Heartbreaker(20)

But now I’m back, everything’s changed.

I didn’t see it that first afternoon. I was too busy trying not to drag her into my arms and kiss her until the years and leaving didn’t matter anymore. She’s still more beautiful than any girl has a right to be, still shy and smart-tongued and generous to a fault. But now I’m through the first glance shock of having her right here in real life again, something doesn’t add up. She was so cool and contained last night at Dixie’s, like she was weighing every word before it left her lips, watching me steadily with those heartbreaker eyes. Maybe this ice queen act is just for me. Hell, I know I deserve it after the way I left things last time around. But then I see it again; the spark in her eyes, the teasing edge to her perfect lips, hints that the old Eva isn’t gone forever. It’s the only thing that gives me hope, and the reason I had to kiss her again. I had to break through those careful defenses and know for sure the passionate, wild girl I knew is still beneath the surface.

That, and the fact that all I’ve wanted in the world for five long years is a chance to taste her sweet mouth again, to feel her undone and panting in my arms.

Where she belongs.

Maybe it’s a shot in the dark, and I’m only dredging up painful memories for the both of us, but I can’t help hoping that maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance for me to change the ending to this tragedy I wrote.





Seven.


EVA.



I wake full of energy, determined to get things back to normal. Finn’s games are just a distraction, I remind myself, sending me down the rabbit hole of memories and long-forgotten desire. I was doing just fine before he waltzed back into town, and I’ll be even better when he waltzes back out– off to his new life in the spotlight again.

A kiss means nothing. Child’s play. Hell, we got up to way worse when we were teenagers, and now I’m a grown woman, it shouldn’t even be a blip on my radar.

But damn, what a kiss that was.

I shower and dress in some cutoffs and a sweater, then set about planning my day. Lottie teases, saying I’m old before my time, but I love the quiet solitude of my routine here, getting things in order and enjoying the silence before the week ahead. Usually I dive straight into chores, but today, I find myself heading for the mudroom downstairs, and the old trunk I’ve been hauling from housesitting gig to housesitting gig all year.

My acting crate.

I lift the lid, and feel a strange pang of wistfulness in my chest. It’s all here, from the printed pages of my very first role in the school play, to the old vintage books I’d order online and then learn by heart, muttering the great monologues in my dark bedroom at night until the words were printed deep on my soul. I fish out an old velvet cloak, musty now, from my turn as Lady Macbeth in the senior play. I remember mom recording it, proud in the front row. How that audition reel got me my big break at drama school in New York. I still know those lines better than anything, how it felt to be onstage captivating the room with every word.

“Out, out damn spot,” I whisper under my breath.

It’s funny how my speech impediment never tripped me up onstage. I was still stumbling through my sentences when a teacher assigned us a poem to learn for class. I was so nervous getting up in front of the class, I wanted to die. They would all laugh at me, I just knew it. But when I opened my mouth, the words came out perfectly, so clear it’s like I didn’t have a problem at all. It was like a ray of sunshine cutting through the darkness of all my pain and insecurities. I realized that I could recite other people’s words without hesitation. There was something about having a script that gave me the confidence I needed. That’s when I fell in love with acting. Bringing someone else’s character to life, I could speak clearly, fearlessly. No stumbling, no stammering, no hot flush of shame. I was good enough.

No, scratch that. I was great.

I still wonder; if I hadn’t dropped out of drama school, would I have had a chance to make it? I know it’s a one in a million dream, but I feel like I bailed before I even tried. I was too busy trying to drown out my heartbreak to focus on my craft. Other classmates went to auditions every morning before school, and spent their nights in extra workshops and sessions. But by then, I was already swept up in the glitter of neon highs, chasing the party from dive bar to flashing clubs in a futile effort to wipe Finn from my mind and heart. I went off track, and blew my one chance to chase my dreams.

Could I have made it? I guess I’ll never know. I close the case with a sigh, turning my attention back to the day ahead. I stop by the rescue first to visit with all the dogs. Edith is out when I arrive, and my chores there take no time at all, so after checking on the puppies and Chester, I head to the grocery store in the next town. I know Lottie passed party-planning duties over to Dee, but I can’t help picking out some balloons and streamers in bright, cheerful colors. Then there’s her favorite ice cream cake, cookies, chips. My cart is almost full before I rein myself back in and start ticking off my own list.

My phone buzzes as I’m stocking up on paper towels. It’s Sawyer. I check the message, smiling.

‘It turns out most vets are failed stand-up comics. Save me from jokes about bitches and hos’.

I tap back a response. “I’m afraid I’m neutered on that.”

‘oww.’ He sends a dog emoji. ‘See you when I get back.’