Page 114 of Seven Days in June

Shane had left the airport bathroom so quickly he hadn’t gotten a chance to check his appearance. He was a bleary-eyed, unshaven wreck in the cobalt-blue Tom Ford suit he didn’t remember buying or packing. Sore from head to toe, he’d been clenching every muscle in his body all day. He hadn’t eaten. He was still reeling. He’d lost Ty.

By the time Shane had gotten to the hospital, Ty was on a ventilator and unresponsive. Shane held his large, soft hand, willing him to wake up. He bargained with him, promising Ty that he’d do everything to keep him safe, that he’d visit Providence once a month—no, twice a month. He’d buy an apartment in town, where Ty could stay. Shane told him that he’d never have to do anything dangerous for money again, that he’d give Ty whatever he needed. Finally, he recited the planets over and over, until his voice cracked and the futility of it made continuing too painful.

It was no use. Ty was gone. So Shane said goodbye.

His loss felt too great, too raw, to process. But despite how hollowed-out he felt, he willed himself forward. He could think of only one thing now: what he was going to say to Eva.

This time, he would be prepared. It wouldn’t be like when he showed up a week ago, winging it. She deserved more than that.

He wrote an entire speech on the plane.

He practiced in the rental car he drove to the Litties.

And now he was rehearsing as he was pacing.

Shane was ready. Until Eva burst through the doors of the lobby, shocking the hell out of him.

She breathed in a dramatic gasp and then cringed, pressing a knuckle into her temple. He saw a flurry of emotions mar her expression, and then…nothing. An ice-cold, terrifying calm settled over her face.

Shane forgot everything he’d planned to say.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hey,” he rasped, and didn’t recognize his voice. He hadn’t spoken in hours. Clearing his throat, he walked in her direction. She crossed her arms over her chest, and, message received, he stopped in his tracks just a few feet away from her.

God, Eva was breathtaking, even in her remoteness. Shane’s chest clenched.

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I can explain.”

“So can I,” she said crisply, and closed the space between them so they were a few feet apart. “I’m sure you have a good reason for standing us up. Maybe you forgot. Maybe it was too much, too fast. And fair enough. But you didn’t just stand me up; you stood up my daughter. You don’t promise things to kids and then disappear.”

For reasons Eva couldn’t know, this seemed to hit him like a punch to the jaw.

“Believe me,” said Shane. “I know.”

“It was just a silly brunch, but I thought…” Eva stopped, swallowed, and started over. “I know it’s only been a week, but it felt…”

“Bigger,” he said, his voice breaking on the word.

Just then, a group of women swept through the doors, on their way to the ladies’ lounge, and the ballroom noise roared into the lobby. The women rushed by, ignoring them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting you two down. Audre…She’s incredible. You’re both more than I thought I’d ever get, and I…I’ve never been held accountable to anyone before. This is new. I don’t know how to do it yet.”

Eva moved closer to him, searching his face. He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he imagined what she must be seeing. His eyes rimmed dark, his two-day stubble, his features etched in grief.

“Look at me,” she said.

When Shane’s eyes met Eva’s, his heart flared and burst, flickering out like a spent light bulb—and he wondered why the sweetest things in his life had to be poisoned with tragedy.

“What happened to you?”

Scratching the side of his jaw, he thrust his hands into his pockets.

The women passed back through the doors to the ballroom. Eva and Shane heard Jenifer Lewis order everyone to their seats, to get ready for the next category.

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