Page 11 of Control

“Of course, you do,” she assured me. “Dale wants you there. That’s why he’s doing this.”

Anger, frustration, sadness, and despair bubbled up inside me. “Just go.”

“Alana, I’m really sor?—”

“Get out!” I shouted.

Rita jerked back at the harshness in my tone, and the second I got the words out, a knock came at the door. It wasn’t closed, so when my eyes shot in that direction, I saw the face of someone I’d never forget, for as long as I lived.

“Ty,” I breathed.

What was he doing here?

“Hi, Alana. Is this a bad time? I can come back.”

He looked genuinely concerned, though I couldn’t be sure if he was worried that he’d walked in on something so tense or if my physical well-being was causing the distress. Maybe it was a mix of both.

I didn’t know Ty beyond having met him yesterday when he waited with me and comforted me after I got into that accident.

He was handsome. Tall with brown skin and eyes, dark hair, and an impossibly fit physique. Though he looked like he normally shaved, the dark stubble around his mouth and along his jawline indicated it had been a couple of days since he last took a razor to his face.

But in that moment, I wasn’t even remotely concerned with his looks. I didn’t know him at all, but I knew I’d rather spend the next hour with him than another five minutes with Rita.

So, I shook my head and answered, “Not at all.” Turning my attention to Rita, I said, “She was just leaving.”

Rita snapped her lips together, misery swirling in her eyes. She gave me one last pointed look before she dipped her chin, turned, and walked out.

With the tip of my nose stinging, I watched her go.

Then my gaze shifted and settled on Ty. He was still looking at me with trepidation in his features. And I didn’t know what it was—perhaps a mix of not having been able to tell my parents the truth and everything Rita had just shared with me—but there was something about the way Ty was looking at me that made me want to confide all my problems in him.

FOUR

Ty

I never thought learning the difference between theory and reality would be so difficult.

It was one thing to tell myself I’d never give a second thought to someone who had the power to betray me in the worst way imaginable. It was easy to sit back, removed from that situation, and insist I could easily walk away and never look back.

But when faced with that reality, when walking away meant looking back on good times, memories, hopes, and dreams for the future, and knowing I had to leave all of that behind like it didn’t matter, it wasn’t so easy.

All the thoughts I’d had last night before finally falling asleep had resurfaced when I woke this morning.

It was a wonder I’d gotten any sleep.

Even feeling like a zombie in the physical sense, my mind was still so capable of tormenting me.

My inability to drift off easily last night had been two-fold.

The first issue had been my phone. It rang more times than I cared to admit. The text notifications continued to pop up on thedisplay. Evangeline had called and texted repeatedly. I listened to two voicemails and read six or seven texts before I decided to turn off the phone. There was nothing Evangeline could say that I wanted to hear. There was no justification or explanation she could provide that would change where I stood.

And that’s what led to the second thing that kept me tossing and turning for most of the night. Without the constant distraction of my phone buzzing on the nightstand beside my bed, my mind had the time to wander.

I couldn’t stop recalling seeing another man in my woman’s apartment, especially after she’d told me she was going to be busy studying for her exam. Weeks had gone by with me believing that she was putting her focus and energy into something that would further her career.

It had all been a lie I so easily believed. How had she done it? How could she lie like it was nothing?

Somehow, by some mercy or miracle, I eventually drifted, but when I woke up a couple of hours later, all those thoughts came back with a vengeance. I couldn’t stop picturing Evangeline in her robe, nothing on beneath, and a man who wasn’t me standing half-naked just a matter of a few feet behind her.

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