Page 35 of Seven Days in June

“I wrote my books like you were the only one who’d ever read them,” he continued carefully. “My books did what I couldn’t.”

Eva’s breath slowed. “Which was what?”

“Talk to you,” he said. “And when I read yours, I knew you were reading mine. You put in so many clues. I mean, Gia has to strike her enemieseight timeswith her broom to kill them.” A shadow of a smile passed over his face. “Even when you were ripping me to shreds, it felt good. Like we still had our secrets.”

Eva’s mouth parted slightly, her brows knitting together. And Shane started lightly scratching his biceps, the stubble of his jawline. Neither of them was emotionally prepared for this confession.

When he felt Eva watching him, Shane stilled. Boldly, he met her gaze and got caught there, a breath too long. A charge passed between them, flickered, and faded.

There’s an alternate universe where I never left, he thought.

“Can I be honest?” asked Eva.

“Please.”

“I cried for two weeks when I found out I was having a daughter.” Her voice was barely audible. “I was terrified she’d be like me. My only goal is making sure Audre’s world is unicorns and rainbows. And it is. When she’s sad, she reads Shonda Rhimes’sYear of Yes, listens to theHamiltonsoundtrack, and moves on. She doesn’t hurt like I do.Did.” Eva corrected herself. “My mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother? They’re all crazy, and it runs in my family. But it stopped with me.”

Eva paused. “No one knows about my life before New York. You showing up like this…It’s a trigger.”

“I understand,” conceded Shane. “And I’ll go. But can you tell me one thing?”

Eva shrugged vaguely.

“You happy?”

She looked dismayed. It was like no one had ever asked her that, or it was something she’d never thought about. Or both.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s your head?”

“I said I’m fine,” she spat, her eyes welling up. She dug her knuckles into a temple again, the pain obvious.

“That bad? Still?”

Eva’s silence was answer enough. And her tears, threatening to spill.

“Fuck.” Shane’s face was a mask of worry. “Do you have good doctors? Do you have a…a…man or someone who helps? Does anyone take care of you?”

“Does anyone take care ofyou?” she exploded.

“I mean, no.”

“Then why are you assuming thatIneed help?”

Eva began snapping a rubber band encircling her wrist. It was sharp enough to redden her skin. He’d noticed her doing this before, at the Brooklyn Museum. Watching the compulsive way she pulsed the band against her skin, a flash of unease coursed through him. He wanted to ask her what she was doing.

But I already know, don’t I?

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Shane. “I just hoped you had some support.”

“Well, I don’t. God, why did you come here?”

Overwhelmed by her reaction, he said, “To apologize.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered. “I can’t talk about that night…”

And then a tear fell. Shane shot up straight in his seat. Reaching across the table, he gently held her wrist.

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