Page 39 of Tapped

I lean in one more time before I’m forced to focus on the life of a woman I didn’t know. “How is Chase?”

She tips her head and sighs. She looks defeated. “He’s good. More than good. My parents were demanding when they raised us, but they take their roles as grandparents seriously and spoil their grandchildren. I tried to talk to him once since he got there, but he has no time for me. He was playing with the dogs, picking lemons, and eating donuts.” She shakes her head. “I never saw a donut in our house growing up and I love donuts. Chase is living the life I always wanted.”

I scoot down in the pew to settle in and rest an ankle on my knee. “That statement packs a punch Dr. Litchfield. I think you either need therapy or a donut.”

She glances up at me with a sad smile. “I know I could use the latter and after the last twenty-four hours, I’m sure I could benefit from the former.”

I’m about to tell her I can help her out with at least half of that, but the processional starts, and we stand. The memories come back as a casket is wheeled down the aisle, followed by the priest and who I assume is Georgia’s immediate family. A number of adults followed by a herd of kids ranging in all ages take forever to get settled in the front.

Evie pulls out a bunch of tissues from her small purse since she left her huge bag locked in my car. In the short time I’ve known this woman, I know more about her than I do about most people who have been in my life for years.

A middle-aged woman catches Evie’s eye and gives her a small smile. Evie returns her smile with a small wave before she dabs at the corner of her eye.

Without realizing what I’m doing, my hand wraps around her far shoulder to give her a squeeze.

Evie’s body is now pressed to the side of mine from thigh to shoulder, I feel the tension ease from her petite frame.

I should let go.

I should definitely unwrap her from my side and put some space between us.

Hell, I should use the next hour to shut my eyes and grab a nap.

But I don’t do any of that.

I hold the doctor tight to my side and take in the funeral of a woman I did not know while my brain and heart are all over the fucking place.

Talk about going against your nature.

I don’t know who I am right now.

* * *

Evie

Unlike the driveto the church when Micah quizzed me about the accident, our drive back to my office has been silent.

I’ve never attended one of my patients’ funerals with someone. I always go by myself.

Micah pulls into the lot, puts it in park, but leaves the engine running. Neither of us makes a move to get out.

His sigh is audible over the hum of the cool AC. I realize for the first time that he’s as lost in his own thoughts as I am mine. I turn to find him with his eyes closed behind his sunglasses with his head relaxed on the headrest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You have to be exhausted from not sleeping last night. And now you had to sit through a funeral. You don’t even know me and didn’t have to do any of that. Why did you?”

He exhales in a deep breath that bleeds exhaustion. “You know, you’re a hard woman to figure out. You’re tough as nails, but there are moments that you’re so vulnerable it makes me want to bulldoze a moat around you so you can catch a break from your own fucking life.”

My eyes widen.

“What?” he asks.

“No one talks to me like that.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, but does not sound like he means an ounce of it. “But I shoot straight.”

“I’m sorry that I come across tough as nails, but that quality is purely a survival mechanism. There’s no way I can manage my life without it. Jeff hasn’t been an active participant in our marriage for a long time nor has he ever been a decent father. I have lived with the mistake of marrying him for far too long—the proof of that is him wanting me and Chase out of the way when I finally pushed him for a divorce.”

“I’m not saying I don’t like the tough as nails. I’m just saying I’m trying to figure you out.”

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