The Absence of Olivia(35)

“Her name’s Evie,” Devon said, the coldness of his words sending shivers down my back.

“Not what she told me,” Nate called from the laundry room.

“Devon, stop it,” I whispered, hoping Nate couldn’t hear me. “You’re acting like a child.”

Nate walked back into the kitchen, grabbed the other fan, and left again, his eyes darting back and forth between us. I kept staring at Devon, willing him to stop acting like an *. A moment later, the loudest fans I’d ever heard started up and I almost had to cover my ears. Nate came back in the kitchen and stopped just short of the dining table.

“Leave those fans on twenty-four-seven. I’ll come back in two days to check on the progress.”

“They’re really loud,” I said, still fighting the urge to cover my ears.

“Industrial,” Nate said in response.

“How are the kids supposed to sleep through that?”

“You’ve got kids?” he asked, his eyes boring into mine, and I could have sworn he sounded a little disappointed. Before I could clarify, Devon butted in.

“Two kids. Small ones. Need their sleep.” Great. Now he wasn’t even using complete sentences.

“You can turn it off when you’re sleeping if you need to, but it might take an extra day to dry in that case.” He looked at me, and then his eyes moved back to Devon, hardening. “I’ll be back Monday morning.” With that, he walked to the front door and left. I had an unfamiliar urge to stop him before he made it to the door, to explain everything that Devon had so conveniently left out, but it didn’t matter. I did, however, turn to Devon with daggers in my eyes.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, yelling partly because of the fans, but mostly because I was irritated by his behavior.

“What?” he answered, yelling back, obviously irritated as well.

“You totally made that guy think we had kids together!”

Devon rolled his eyes and walked out of the kitchen into the living room. He went to the front windows and pulled the curtains over, watching as a truck drove by that I assumed belonged to Nate. “I didn’t do anything of the sort, Evie. That guy was a douchebag.”

“What exactly did he do that made him a douchebag?”

“You didn’t see the way he was looking at you.”

“What?” I exclaimed, my voice shriller than I’d ever heard it before. “You’re insane. And even if he was looking at me, you don’t get to be all *y to people for that. I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“I come home to find some stranger in my house, ogling you, nearly f*cking you with his eyes, and I’m just supposed to sit back and act like nothing’s happening?”

“YES!” I screamed, my breath panting, heart pounding, hands shaking. “You’ve got no right doing anything about it! Besides, he was perfectly respectful. Nice, even. You didn’t have to go all Neanderthal on him. He thinks we’re married for Christ’s sake!”

“You’re upset because I chased off the contractor? Were you going to date him, Evie? You don’t date, ever.”

“I date.”

“Not since Elliot.”

His words sliced through me and my mouth fell open at his. He knew I didn’t like talking about Elliot.

“I talk with him sometimes,” he continued, his eyes mean, purposefully trying to hurt me. “He hates you. Hates what you did to him. You’re the reason he left the country, you know. He couldn’t even stand to be on the same continent as you.”

“Shut up,” I whispered, shocked at the acid dripping from his voice, the anger I’d never heard from him before.

“Why should I? I think it’s time we talked, got everything out in the open. You and I have been silent for too long.”

I shook my head. “I’m not talking to you while you’re like this, while you’re hurtful. I don’t know who you are right now.”

“This is me, Evie. This is me after years of torture. You think a person isn’t changed after going through what I did? Watching my wife die? Watching someone I thought I could protect be taken right out from under me? There was no order in her death. No reason. Nothing I could piece together to make any sense. So I just had to watch.” He took an angry step toward me. “And then, there’s you. Always pretending to be something you’re not.”

I gasped. “I’m not pretending to be anything,” I whispered. “You’re upset, Devon. I get that, but don’t take it out on me. I haven’t done anything.”

“That’s exactly the problem. You haven’t done anything. Ever. Besides pretend. You’ve been pretending since the first day we met. Pretending there wasn’t this thing between us. Pretending it didn’t cloud every single time we’ve ever been in the same room. It’s exhausting pretending not to be drawn to you.”

“I’m not pretending,” I said, my voice thick with the cries I was holding back. He came closer.

“You are. All the time. Even now. And I’m tired of it.” He kept walking toward me and I kept retreating, until I was backed into the refrigerator, only to watch as his hands pressed flat against it right next to my ears, blocking me in.

“Elliot won’t tell me what you did to him that made him hate you. Says it’s not his secret to tell. But I can hear in his voice how much you hurt him.” His eyes were darting back and forth between mine, and his face was so close. I wasn’t afraid he’d hurt me, but I was afraid that whatever was happening in that moment was going to change everything forever. “But I know your secret. It’s the same secret I’ve kept all these years.”