TheBillionaire's Touch(80)

 

Oh, for God’s sake, just look. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone.

 

The desire to know if he had tried to contact her before he left was killing her. He hadn’t texted or called, so this was her one last hope.

 

If he didn’t write, I can start moving on, start trying to forget. If he didn’t at least try to explain himself, he’s not worth all of the moping I’m doing right now.

 

Randi flipped on the computer and proceeded to bring up her email for the Center, holding her breath.

 

She felt pathetic as she waited, pinning so much hope on some kind of explanation. Maybe she should have listened to him last night, but her immediate reaction had been one of betrayal. She’d been feeling vulnerable and wounded because she’d told him she loved him and then . . . bam! The news that he’d known for quite some time that she was his mystery friend had broadsided her.

 

Finally, the mailbox came up and she released a shaky breath as she saw that there was an email from him, and he was using the exact same email address that he’d always used to write to her.

 

 

 

Dear M.,

 

Have you ever wanted something so badly that you did something stupid to get it?

 

 

 

Randi stared at the one-liner for a moment, trying to figure out why he was still using the same style and her mystery name to ask her a question. Checking the date, she noticed it had been sent less than an hour earlier. Contemplating the question, she knew it was about the two of them. What stupid thing had he done?

 

 

 

Dear S.,

 

 

 

She started her reply knowing she was going to play along. She wanted answers too badly not to. She didn’t want to go through the rest of her life not knowing why he hadn’t come clean with her. She continued.

 

 

 

No, I don’t think I have. I’m not certain I’ve ever wanted anything badly enough that it required doing something stupid. Was it illegal?

 

 

 

She shot the reply into cyberspace, hoping he was going to explain. Not expecting a reply while he was in the air, she was surprised to see an answer come back in a matter of minutes.

 

 

 

M.,

 

It wasn’t illegal, but it should be. I hurt you, and that is unacceptable to me. You’re the last person on earth I’d want to hurt, but I did because I was stupid. I’m so sorry, Randi.

 

 

 

Tears started to flow down her cheeks as she saw his apology. Breaking all pretense, she wrote back.

 

 

 

Evan,

 

Why didn’t you tell me? I have to know.

 

 

 

She assumed the S was short for Sinclair. He’d used a businesslike initial just like she did when she’d first started writing to him, using the first initial of her real name. They were beyond that now, and she wasn’t going to hide behind an initial that she rarely used.

 

Her heated conversation with Evan the night before flowed through her memories, especially the part about the possibility that deep down inside she’d always known that S. might be Evan. Although she’d never acknowledged it, or even really thought about the possibility consciously, maybe there was a part of her that wished they could be the same man. Maybe that was one of the biggest reasons she hadn’t wanted to meet him in person—because she suspected she’d never feel the same chemistry for another man that she felt with Evan. If she’d met S. and the chemistry wasn’t there, she’d lose a friend who had come to mean a lot to her.

 

Evan had mentioned that he wasn’t all that surprised when he realized she was M. Was she really all that surprised now that Evan was really her mystery man? She’d always been drawn to both of them in different ways, yet the connection was similar. Now that she put them together, it was hard not to realize that they were the same person. They’d had time to get to know each other through emails, but the connection was strong for two people who had never met face-to-face. Her physical connection with Evan in person had been immediate and intense. Both of them were powerful bonds like she’d never experienced before. So was it really so surreal that they were one and the same man? Probably . . . not.

 

Did I secretly always hope that S. was really Evan? Is that why I never wanted to meet him? Did I want to keep the fantasy alive that I’d be just as attracted to him in person as I was via email?

 

Now, she could answer with certainty that she did want them to be the same man. It was highly possible that she’d always wanted that, but had been afraid of disappointment when she discovered they weren’t.

 

It took a few minutes, but Evan finally answered.