When I Was Yours(89)

“You’re laying the blame for this at the feet of two people when it should be only one. Evie was just as innocent as you were in this. You need to stop punishing her. Either forgive and take her back, or let her go once and for all.”

“I have let her go.”

“No, you haven’t.” He shakes his head at me. “You don’t know how to. You haven’t been able to for the last ten years, and you sure as shit can’t now. So, you either stay here and mope like a little bitch, or you go find Evie and talk to her.”

I stare at him, a pain in my chest so severe, it feels like my heart is failing. “I can’t forgive her.” I shake my head. “She should have told me the truth the second she came back. She didn’t. And I can’t forgive her for that.”

“Yeah, she should have. But put yourself in her place. She was a kid when it happened. She’s held on to that shit for ten years. Then, she gets back, and you’re here. She was afraid to lose you again. She might have left, but she lost you as well.”

“That you talking or her?”

“Me.”

“You on her side or something?” I snap.

I snap because I hear the truth in his words, but I don’t want to accept them.

I want to feel angry. If I don’t have my anger, then I have nothing.

“Stop being a dick, Adam. You know I’m on your side. I’m always on your side. That’s why I’m saying these things. I want you to be happy. And Evie’s your happy.” He finishes his drink and stands.

“You leaving?” I ask in a low voice.

“Yep. Things to do, * to see.” He winks.

I watch him walk toward the exit.

My mind races through the words he just said. But I keep looping back to one thing.

Evie’s my happy.

He’s right. I’ve never been happier than when I was with her.

And I’ve spent a really long time being miserable.

I don’t want to be miserable anymore.

“Max?”

He stops opening the door, and looks across at me.

I move my eyes from him, staring straight ahead, unable to look at him while I say, “Evie…is she still at the coffee shop?”

I don’t have to see his face to know the smug bastard is smiling.

“No. She said she was heading home right after I left.” Pause. “You need a ride to her place?”

Swiveling my stool around to face him, I let my feet hit the floor. “Yeah,” I say, finally meeting his smirking eyes. “A ride would be good.”

“Guess my * can wait.” He grins. “Come on then, loser. Let’s go get your wife back.”





“So, I’m driving you to Evie’s, but you don’t actually know where she lives.” Max sighs.

“I know which apartment building she lives in, assface. I just don’t know which f*cking apartment it is.”

“Well, I guess you could try knocking on every door in her building. Or you could do a John Cusack and stand outside her apartment building with a boom box, playing your song to get her attention. Only problem with that is you don’t have a boom box, so you’d have to play it from your iTunes app on your phone, which isn’t anywhere near as cool, or romantic. And can you even get Bon Jovi on iTunes?” Max grins at me.

“You’re a dick.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

I could do what Max said, play her our song, but I have a much simpler, although less romantic, way of finding out which one is her apartment.

Getting my cell, I dial the number of my divorce lawyer.

“Adam, you must be a mind reader. I was going to call you today,” Harrison says.

That makes me pause. “Why?”

“I got signed divorce papers back from Evie’s lawyer with new terms and a letter from Evie personally. Do you want me to send it over to you?”

“No. Read the letter to me now,” I say, my heart climbing into my throat.

“Okay. One sec. Just let me grab it.”

I hear rustling and then the tearing of paper.

“Right, I got it. Okay, so it says, ‘Adam, I know you said you didn’t want to see me or hear from me again, and I’m not writing this letter to go against that, but with the divorce still in process and how the terms stood with the money, I couldn’t not write to you. I don’t want the money, of course. So, I’m rejecting the terms. I’m not doing that to piss you off or to hang on to you in some vain hope that you’ll find a way to forgive me because I know you won’t. And I understand why. But I also know you want me gone, so I know you’ll accept my terms. My lawyer has redrafted the papers, and I’ve signed them on the terms I originally set—abandonment on my part. I will leave our marriage as I entered it—well, in the financial sense anyway. All you have to do is sign, and then your lawyer will file them. And then I guess that’s it.

“I just want to say I’m sorry one last time. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I let you down. I know my apologies don’t count for anything anymore, but I just needed one more chance to say it.

“And just…be happy, Adam. You, more than anyone, deserve happiness. I’m just sorry it couldn’t be with me. Yours always, Evie.’”