In Full Bloom [Second Chances 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 20

  She had come to the conclusion that she had a shit load of stuff to work through. She’d thought that she had put her childhood behind her. Clearly that had been wishful thinking. She couldn’t imagine that anyone would have the patience to stay with her while she worked through this.

  As she slipped the notice to vacate under his door, she exhaled slowly. It was the right thing to do. She didn’t want to put him through all of this. She didn’t want to risk losing anything else. It was better to end it now.

  On a shuddering sigh, she let herself into her apartment and started to clean up. She’d been lying mostly in a fetal ball for the past few days. She needed to find a new place, sort through her shit, and decide what was worth taking.

  Over the next hour, she threw in some laundry, washed the dishes that had piled up in the sink, and scrubbed the bathroom. It felt good to expend some energy on something that had tangible results.

  When she heard the knock on the door, she knew it was him. With a sense of foreboding, she opened the door.

  He stood there, her letter in hand, a mixture of anger and pain on his face. He held the note up and asked, “Seriously, Taryn?”

  She said, “I can’t be here anymore. I’m sorry.”

  “I get that,” he said. “I get that you don’t feel the same. I get that we’re not together anymore. You’ve made that clear. I don’t have any fucking clue what happened, but I guess that doesn’t even matter.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand to stop her.

  “You tell me all of this with a note? That you’re leaving. We’re done. You slip a goddamned note under my door? That’s really fucked up,” he said, his voice raised.

  “I’m sorry,” she said helplessly. “I need time and space. I thought I could do this but—”

  “You know what?” he snapped. “It doesn’t even matter. Be out by the end of January. Take all the space you need.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked away, to where his own apartment door was open. He walked through it and shut the door with a soft click. As she heard the locks slide into place, she realized that she had really fucked that up.

  An hour later, she sat there, folding her first load of laundry when her phone rang. Cora again. She hit the button to dismiss the call to voicemail, then gave a start when she heard a knock on the door.

  “C’mon, Taryn. I freaking know you’re in there. I heard the phone ring. Open the door,” her sister said.

  On a deep sigh, she opened the door and said, “Hey. Sorry. It’s been a bad couple of days.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” she said, backing off the door and letting Cora in.

  “You’ve been avoiding my calls, honey. What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t been feeling chatty,” she quipped.

  Cora just gave her a long stare and said, “I got that. Stop deflecting.”

  “Please don’t psych major me right now, Cora,” Taryn pleaded.

  “Then tell me what the hell is going on. You’re dodging my calls. Evan looked like shit when he let me in a minute ago. Are you guys fighting?”

  Taryn realized Cora wouldn’t let up. So she spilled the entire story from start to finish, leaving out some of the more gruesome details from Christmas Eve. She had no intention of sharing that story with her. Ever. She didn’t want to be pitied.

  Cora leaned back and exhaled a slow breath when Taryn had finished. A look of infinite patience on her face, she said, “If you think that working through your childhood is the only thing that needs to happen here, then I think you missed the point.”

  Before Taryn could respond, Cora barreled on, “I get that your childhood sucked. You’ve got markers and indicators for things I don’t even want to speculate about, they’re so awful. I’ve seen the positive steps that you’ve taken to overcome so much of that over the years. All of that is great. The biggest issue, the one you don’t see because you’re stuck right in the middle of it, is that you don’t let people love you.

  “You hold people at arm’s length. You always have. A while back you talked about how you were waiting for Evan to essentially let you down. You do that with everyone. With me, too. I try to be patient because I know you’re working through shit, but enough is enough.

  “You let your fear push away the few people that will love you unconditionally. When, eventually, you end up alone, it won’t be because of your fucked-up childhood, honey. It will be because you pushed everyone away. That’ll be entirely on you. Talk to him. Fix it. He’s a good man. He loves you. I know you love him. I can see it all over your face. You’re being an idiot.”

  Taryn felt her eyes fill. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  Cora stood, and said, “I need to go now. I’ve got a class tonight. By the way, Merry Christmas.”

  She dug into her purse, tossed a card on the couch with disgust on her face, and then walked out.

  As the door closed, Taryn stared at the card. Jesus. In all of this, she hadn’t even wished her sister a Merry Christmas. Cora was right. She was spot on about everything. Shit.

  Taryn had no idea how to fix it. Or if she even could at this point.

  Chapter 18

  It had been a week since Taryn had given her notice to vacate. He’d been able to successfully avoid her except for one awkward encounter on the stairs. She hadn’t even spoken to him. Which was fine. He didn’t particularly have a lot to say to her right now, either.

  He still couldn’t believe she’d just slipped a damn note under his door. It felt like a knife blade to the ribs, every time he replayed the conversation.

  The thing that killed him about it all, is that he knew it was just fear. It practically radiated off of her in waves. It had from the very beginning. He should have listened to his instincts. He had been drawn to her though.

  God, he missed her. His apartment seemed empty. He could still smell her shampoo. He’d returned the few things that she’d left at his apartment. He had put them into a box and set them by her front door.

  When he’d gotten off work later, he’d seen the same box next to his door. It had been filled with his spare toothbrush, bath soap and shampoo, the book he had been reading, along with his Rolling Stones tee.

  He’d never be able to look at that shirt without imagining her in it the morning after they’d slept together for the first time. She had even ruined his favorite shirt. He wanted to hate her for it, but he was finding it difficult.

  Running his hand through his hair, he moved to clean the stray leaves from the counter top where he’d been putting together an arrangement.

  Between the well-meaning phone calls and people stopping over to check in on him, he’d been able to keep busy. His mother had stopped over one night. Surprisingly, she had remained quiet on the subject. Instead she’d distracted him with stories from her stitch and bitch club, and old memories.

  Cora had started instant messaging him, too. Apparently, she and Taryn had gotten into a fight. She declared herself “Team Evan” whatever the hell that meant. He’d appreciated the support, but talking to Cora just made him think of Taryn.

  He was tired of thinking about her. He wanted this awful ache in his gut to go away. He wanted to be able to sleep again. He needed a project to occupy himself.

  Maybe he’d focus on the remodel. That had always been the plan, anyway. When the tenant left, he’d remodel and turn the upper floor into a huge living space.

  He just hadn’t expected the tenant to absolutely gut him on the way out the door.

  He shook off the dark thoughts and grabbed his laptop. Some quick research led to three contractors with high ratings in the area. He picked up the phone and dialed the first one.

  Fifteen minutes later, he had an appointment set for Tuesday morning. He’d need to let him into the other space as well as his own. Should he just leave a note letting her know?

  Grabbing a sheet of paper he jotted a quick note and decid
ed he would tape it on her door. That seemed official, right?

  When he closed up shop for the day, he stopped by and taped the note to her door, then quickly went inside his apartment. There, he thought. It was done.

  Deciding he needed to have a real meal instead of eating take out, he boiled some water for pasta. He’d nuked some frozen meatballs and opened a can of sauce. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was better than pizza again.

  As he strained the pasta, he heard a knock on the door. He called out, “Who is it?” even though he already knew it was her.

  Her voice muffled by the door, he heard her say, “Taryn.”

  He opened the door to find her, note in hand. Her eyes looked so sad that he felt a momentary pang in his chest. It was easy to shake it off, though, because whatever she was sad about, she had done it to herself.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  She cleared her throat and asked, “The contractor. Will they be escorted? Your note didn’t say.”

  “Yes. Sorry. I should have noted that. Is there anything else?”

  “Well,” she said. “Did you have a minute to talk?”

  “If it’s not about the apartment, then no. I don’t. Is there anything else?”

  He watched as her eyes filled. She blinked for a second, then said, “No. I guess there isn’t.”

  Watching her walk away, he acknowledged that he’d been an asshole. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of having a chat with her, but she’d clearly had something on her mind.

  As he moved back into his apartment he said, “Whatever. Fuck it.”

  He stared at the pasta in the strainer and forced himself to make a plate even though he wasn’t hungry anymore. He picked at it for another half hour or so before he gave up. He tossed it out and moved into the bathroom to take a shower.

  Thirty minutes later, he had run the hot water heater down. The water now ran almost ice cold, so he forced himself out of the shower.

  He heard the tail end of his cell phone ringing and moved to the living room to grab it.

  Wrapped in a towel, he answered, “Hey Mom.”

  “Hey Ev. How’s it goin’?” his mom asked.

  “Same as it was yesterday when we talked,” he said.

  He heard the smirk in her voice when she said, “Don’t sass me.”

  “I’d never,” he said, feeling the beginnings of a smile on his face.

  “Have you spoken to Taryn?” his mother asked with no segue at all.

  “Christ,” he complained. “Do you have radar or something?”

  “Well,” she demanded.

  “She stopped by earlier to ask about a note I left on her door. I’m having a contractor come in and give me a bid on the renovations that I wanted to do originally.”

  “And?”

  “That was the extent of the communication, detective,” he said, feeling irritation creep up his neck.

  She gave a long pause, so he concluded, “Mostly.”

  When he sighed, she said, “Evan.”

  “I wasn’t very nice. You don’t even have to give me crap about it. I already feel bad. She asked me if I had a minute to talk and I basically closed the door in her face,” he said.

  “Evan!”

  “I’m just so pissed off about all of it. She slid a note under my goddamned door.”

  “Put your anger aside for a minute. What do you want? Do you want her to go?”

  Evan ran a hand through his damp hair and said, “Shit. I’ve gotta go, Mom.”

  “Love you, baby.”

  “Love you, too,” he said as he disconnected the line.

  He tossed the phone on the bed, and moved to go get dressed. He had to go talk to Taryn, to hear whatever it was that she had to say. Maybe it would amount to something, or maybe she just wanted some closure.

  Not bothering with shoes, he walked across the hall and knocked on her door.

  Chapter 19

  Taryn blew her nose again as she flipped channels. She’d been crying off and on for the last half hour. She’d fucked things up with Evan royally and it was entirely her own fault. Feeling her eyes begin to water again, she took a deep breath. Her head hurt and crying about it wouldn’t change anything.

  She’d let him know she was leaving by sliding a notice to vacate under his door. She hadn’t been trying to break up with him, but that was the way he had taken it. Honestly, what did she really expect, though? He told her that he loved her and she told him she was moving out.

  It hadn’t been her finest moment. Even now she couldn’t recall why she ever thought that would be the best way to do it. She had wanted to put some space in between them, maybe take a step back and figure out what she was capable of dealing with.

  She was afraid to trust in people. Given her previous experiences, that completely made sense. Everyone that she’d ever loved had left her. Her mother, her father, Betty, Joe. Even after all of this time she still held Cora at arm’s length. She sighed. That was another apology that she needed to make.

  Hopefully Cora would speak to her when she called. Cora hadn’t tried to talk to her since they’d had the fight the other night. Taryn felt absolutely gutted. The worst part is that she’d done it to herself.

  Her sister was pissed off at her. She’d fucked things up with Evan so irrevocably that he wouldn’t even speak to her. She thought that she’d feel some sort of relief. Not having to wait for the other shoe to drop, but all she felt was an ache in her chest. She’d never been filled with such an intense feeling of loneliness.

  She felt another wave of tears come on. This time, she let it. Tomorrow she’d get her shit together and call Cora. Cora was the only family she had. She’d pester her unmercifully until she was forgiven.

  Evan was a different story though. She’d never seen such a blank look of disinterest on his face before. She couldn’t force him to listen to her. That would be just selfish. She couldn’t do that to him on top of everything else she had done. He was done with her. That was just something she’d have to live with.

  Tears ran unchecked down her face now. She didn’t bother to wipe them. She just headed into the kitchen and grabbed the chocolate ice cream out of the freezer. Grabbing a spoon out of the dish drainer, she pulled the lid off and tossed it on the counter. She settled back down on the couch, wiped the tears off her face and ate the whole damn pint.

  Twenty minutes later she felt more calm and vaguely sick to her stomach. There was no sense in staying awake to feel like this. She would take a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow would be better. She hoped, anyway.

  As she started to scoop up the tissues from the coffee table, she heard a knock at the door. Taryn’s heart leaped into her throat. She tried valiantly to make herself look at least somewhat presentable, but gave up. She knew she was a mess.

  She cleared her throat and asked, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Taryn. Got a minute?” Evan’s voice carried through the door.

  She took one shuddering breath and turned the locks. Sliding the chain off the door, she opened it and said, “Hey. What’s up?”

  When he saw her face, something flickered across his that looked suspiciously like regret. Softly he said, “Shit. Don’t cry. I was an asshole earlier. I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes watered again and she said, “No, no. I probably earned that.”

  He shook his head and said, “No. You didn’t. Not really. Can I come in?”

  She stepped back to let him in and gestured to the couch. She watched as his eyes scanned the ice cream container and the tissues.

  He settled in and said, “Talk to me. Sit down. Tell me what you wanted to tell me.”

  She hesitated, her heart pounding. “If you’re just doing this to make me feel better, you really don’t have to. If you’d rather not talk to me, I understand.”

  A patient look settled over his face. He said, “Talk to me, Princess.”

  Her heart fluttered at the use of her nickname. She took a deep breath and then said,
“I’m sorry. What I did was cowardly and selfish. I should have been honest and direct. Instead I took the easy way out and that was incredibly unfair of me. It’s just…Evan, you terrify me.”

  “I get that now,” he said. He watched her, waiting for her to continue. Eventually, when she couldn’t find the words, he finally said, “Tell me why.”

  “I don’t want to keep making this about my childhood, but that’s really where it starts,” she continued. “Every person I have ever loved has either died or sent me away. I’m terrified that if I lose anything else that I won’t be able to put the pieces back together again. When we were laying there and you…”

  “Told you that I was in love with you,” he finished, when she broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

  “Yeah. Then. All I could think was that if I said it out loud, if I said it back, that you’d leave. I’ve been waiting this whole time for you to leave. For you to figure out that I’m broken, or not what you’re looking for, or for you to just decide you were bored and move on.

  Hurt flickered over his features as he said, “I don’t think that’s entirely fair.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s not a reflection on you. You never did anything to deserve it. You’ve been nothing but decent and kind. You opened your life to me, you opened your heart to me. Hell, you took me to your mom’s house for the holidays. The problem is me.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  She continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I just wanted to apologize. I unintentionally made you a victim of my personal garbage. You deserve better than that.”

  “You do, too, ya know.”

  “I do what?” she asked.

  “Deserve better than what you allow yourself to have.”

  She took a moment to absorb that thought, and then said, “You’re probably right.”

  A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as if to say, “Of course I’m right.” A moment later he asked, “So now that you know what the problem is, what are you going to do to fix it?”

  “Counseling,” she said. “You were right when you suggested it before. I need to work it out and find some sort of peace or I’m going to continue fucking things up. I don’t want to be this way anymore.”