Page 49 of Tapped

Any other day—like, before yesterday—I would have laughed, or at least punched him in the shoulder.

But not today.

It happens so fast, I can’t control it.

I burst into tears.

13

DONUTS AND DECISIONS

Evie

“I’m sorry,” I sputter as I bring my hands to my face. “I’m so, so sorry. You’re a stranger and single. I’m being so selfish. It’s just hard to be here by myself for all the worst reasons.”

“Shit.” I hear his plate and beer hit the coffee table. The next thing I know, strong hands circle my wrists and pull my face away from my hands. That doesn’t mean I can see him through my tears. Those hands turn into arms, and I’m pulled to his chest.

He’s strong and warm and unfamiliar. He dips his hand into my hair and presses my face to his soft shirt. “I’m sorry, Evie. I was trying to make you smile, not cry.”

I fist the material at his abs as my tears soak his shirt. I can’t remember the last time Jeff wrapped his arms around me.

That thought makes me sob even harder.

He dips his head. His words are low and warm in my hair. “I’m an asshole. You’re dealing with too much. You don’t need my shit on top of everything else.”

I shake my head against him. “I waited too long to divorce him. This all could’ve been avoided. I thought I could save my marriage. I thought maybe he’d get his shit together and want to be better. At least be a better dad for Chase.”

Micah sighs. “If I’m an ass, your husband is the most worthless asshat on the face of the planet. He’ll rot in prison, Evie. I swear. I’m racking up the charges on him, and that’s without attempted murder. He doesn’t deserve you or your son.”

I sob into his chest again.

When he pulls in a frustrated breath, I feel it in every muscle wrapped around me.

I wish I could stay right here all night.

But he’s experienced enough of me. I’m sure he regrets ever answering my first text. Hell, maybe he regrets telling me what Jeff did.

I push away and look up at him through blurry eyes. “I’m sorry. And you’re not an asshole. You were only trying to make me feel better. You didn’t come over here for me to cry all over your T-shirt.”

He reaches up and swipes my cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry about my shirt. It’ll be just fine. I came over because I could tell you needed to be with someone. If you want to cry all night, I’m here for it.”

I shake my head. “No. No way. I hate crying. And now your food is cold. How many things can I apologize for?”

He hands me a napkin that smells like General Tso’s chicken, and I do my best to rub my mascara away. “I have no clue what went down in your marriage, Evie, but in the last day, I’ve spent the night at your house, met your dad and your brother, taken you to a funeral, and held you as you cried in my arms. I also heard your drug-running husband say some fucked-up shit on my wiretap, so I’m going to go out on a limb here and say your marriage being in the shitter is not your fault.”

I sniff a hiccup as I stare down at the mangled napkin. “I’m not used to failing. Litchfields don’t fail. My parents made sure of it. And right now, I feel like nothing but a failure.”

Micah rips the soggy napkin from my hands and replaces it with my wine. “Drink and eat. We’ll put something on TV—whatever you want to watch. You can chill and think about nothing before you go to bed.”

I do exactly as he says. I haven’t eaten anything since before the funeral. My afternoon was packed. If I could work day and night, the time would fly since I can’t be with Chase.

Micah flips the channel, I pick at my dinner, and he inhales his. He even refills his plate. I’m about to clean the kitchen and put the food away when a big hand lands on my shoulder. “Find something to watch. I’ll get the food.”

His random act almost takes my breath away. I do everything for Chase. I’m his mom. But Jeff didn’t do anything for anyone.

Ever.

Not for Chase.

---