Page 94 of Tangled In Lies

Her cheeks turn a soft pink, and I huff a surprised breath.

Holden comes up behind us. “Waffles? First pancakes, and now waffles? Do I evenwant to know?”

For a moment, Evangeline and I stare at each other with our gazes locked. The corners of her eyes crinkle slightly, and I can’t look away.

She’s so damn beautiful.

The second the thought races through my mind, she breaks eye contact and focuses on Holden.

“Waffles used to be my go-to food. I don’t know why I was so obsessed with them, but I could eat them morning, noon, and night. Blueberry, plain, or chocolate chip. You name it, I loved them all.”

“She went through phases where she ate them with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles or bacon and melted cheese.” My voice is quiet.

There’s a rare peaceful expression on her beautiful face.

These memories are from an easier time, from a time in our lives when there was a real possibility of us ending up together, where I wanted more from her and told myself there might be a way to make it work. If anyone had told me she’d be the reason I ended up in prison one day, I’d have called them delusional and possibly punched them in the face for saying it in the first place.

But then, she’d probably feel the same if the roles were reversed and someone had predicted my engagement to her sister.

I didn’t think I’d ever want to talk to Evangeline about Connie, but maybe I should. Unless I’m mistaken, she doesn’t seem to know what happened between her sister and me.

Evangeline snorts, staring at Holden with her nose wrinkled. “Of course, the bacon and melted cheese was only onthe plain waffle, you monster. I wasn’t that gross with my concoctions.”

Holden grins at her and hums under his breath.

Evangeline shakes her head at him and winces. “Ah, damn it, I forgot about my headache.”

Like that, the bubble we escaped in for a few minutes pops, and we’re back to reality. Back to where we’re both injured. Since Evangeline got it worse than I did, I squeeze her hand and pull her after me into the house.

“You need to rest.”

With her solemn expression firmly back in place, she whispers, “Okay.”

Holden stays on the first level to check in with the security team while I walk up the stairs. At the top of them, I have the inexplicable urge to turn right to go to my bedroom, but I ignore it and swivel left to the other wing.

We enter her room, and she immediately stops, letting her gaze roam across everything.

I don’t see anything amiss, so I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s the same. It’s weird.”

Realization sinks in. “But nothing feels the same anymore.”

She sighs. “Yeah.”

While Holden took care of the mess out front, and our injuries will heal over the next few days and weeks, the place that suffered the most significant trauma is invisible to the naked eye. It’s impossible to know how long those wounds will take to heal. The doubt, the fear, the confusion, the anger. No one can see that damage, but from the sound of it, Evangeline feels the change too. The essential makeup ofmyself, the person I thought I was, changed the second she threw herself at me and that bomb went off.

Many people deal with near-death experiences, but I’m not entirely sure what to make of mine or how to handle it.

Evangeline tugs her hand back, and I let go of it, instantly missing the connection when her fingers slip free from mine.

At the hospital, she told me she didn’t want me to die and she was sorry.

My reaction was to kiss her.

If there was ever a fucked-up relationship, it’s ours.

She goes to the nightstand and picks up the new cell phone. Glancing at me. Swiping across the screen. “Thanks again for this.”

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