Page 22 of Splintered
The return address was from New York, New York. There was an embossed crest on the back over the seal of the envelope.
Damn it, they’d never talked about New York, about Evan’s interview and how it had gone. His finger slid under the heavy fold of the envelope.It’s a federal crime to open another person’s mail.He hesitated.
He broke the seal.
He had to know.
Four folded sheets lay inside, crisp linen paper, heavier than his college diploma.Mr. Lombardi, it began.We’re delighted to offer you the position of Vice President of Sales, North Eastern Region, with an exemplary compensation package, to include a base salary of $2.3 million annually plus commissions, and an attractive benefits package, outlined below…
The rest of the pages went into benefit details. Stock options, commissions, tax arrangements to maximize wealth management. The best health care benefits he’d ever seen, complete with a twenty-four hour on-call doctor that would come to his Manhattan apartment.So, this is how the other side lives.
This is how Evan will be living.
Who would turn this down? The career advancement of a lifetime. More money than Ben would ever make in his entire life in one year.
Was he an idiot for not following Evan? Manhattan, a life of luxury, of endless cash and high society.
Evan working long hours, business trips that lasted for weeks. Him at home alone in a cold Manhattan apartment, staring down at the bustling city below. Were there kids in that life? If there were, was there any happiness? Were they the kind of tight-knit family he had dreamed of his whole life? Or was he essentially a single dad, drinking wine alone after the nanny put the kids to bed, waiting for Evan to come home from Shanghai or London or Rome?
That wasn’t the life he wanted. That wasn’t the life they had dreamed of, dreamed together, for three years.
His stomach soured. Ben dropped the mail on the kitchen countertop, smoothing out the offer letter. He had to show Evan.
All those next steps he’d imagined faded, his daydream of figuring out their future together, him taking care of Evan through the long days and nights of his recovery ahead.
It wouldn’t be him. It would be someone in Manhattan, this private concierge doctor coming to his home.
Or a new lover.
Jealous rage filled him, turned his mind blood red. Heat lanced his heart, a sear that branded the inside of him. That branded his soul. He fisted the offer letter as he grit his teeth.
No one else would care for Evan the right way. No one else would watch over him while he slept, counting his breaths and watching his forehead smooth out. Watch while his fear faded, stay awake to guard against his night terrors. No one else would cradle him close, hold him as he trembled, stinking of fear-stained piss while he cried in the corner.
No one could love him like Ben did.
He belonged here. In this house. Their house. With Ben.
As suddenly as it came, the rage vanished, leaving him wilting against the kitchen counter, the offer letter crumpled in his fist. He smoothed the pages, embarrassment and shame making him try to hide what he’d done, but there was no use. Evan would see eventually.
It wasn’t like Evan didn’t know he hated the entire idea.
He swayed like he was standing on the edge of a void, his toes stretching above a blackness a million miles deep. He closed his eyes, imagining the depth, the darkness. What was down there?
Something slipped behind him, moving through the house.
A certainty, suddenly, that he wasn’t alone filled every cell in his body, made every hair stand on end, vibrate and quiver.
There was something,someone, behind him. Watching him.
He spun, reaching for a knife as he moved, brandishing it into the air as he stared wide-eyed at the entranceway, the staircase.
Silence. Stillness.
Nothing moved.
But the weight, the hovering, the tension that clenched his heart, remained.
He wasn’t alone. He didn’t feel alone.
