"You kept in touch, though."
"We didn't hear from Evan for a year. Eventually, the postcards started coming. He's sent us one from all of the different places he lived. Back then, Mike and I weren't very close, except for our connection with Evan. He would ask me if I'd heard from Evan. I'd ask him the same. I suppose in retrospect, Evan brought us together. We worried he wouldn't approve."
"How did you tell him?"
"We found out he was opening for a band in Cleveland. We went to the show and told him the news, both of us nervous as hell. Not only was he happy for us, but he stood up at our wedding."
"You're kidding."
"No, but the thing is … he'd changed. I suppose living a lifetime's worth of tragedy in a few days will do that." She clasped my hand. "Don't give up on him."
"He gave up on us, Tilla. It's over." I took my glass to wash it, but she stopped me.
"I'll take care of it. Go on home."
Tilla must have been right about the girl, or else Evan was very fast for once, because I saw him in the hallway, unlocking his door, when I took out my trash about a half hour later. I struggled with the emotion that rocked through me based on what Tilla had told me and how he was acting. I'd never had an urge to hug and hit someone at the same time.
"Do you need help with that?" he asked, staring at the trash bag.
"No," I said, brushing past him.
"It's late. Either I take it to the dumpster or you can wait until the morning."
"I can take care of myself."
"Billie Marie … "
"Don't! Don't call me that," I snapped. "You call me Billie like everyone else. You don't get to call me anything special or different from anyone else."
I threw the bag over my shoulder and bolted down the steps. He followed behind me.
We both stood awkwardly in the alley, the sounds of distant traffic surrounding us. It was a humid and damp night. A steady stream of rain fell on both of us. "Did you fuck her?" I hated asking him. I hated how much I needed to know.
"Who?"
A spiteful laugh rose and died in my throat. "The girl you left with."
"I didn't leave with her. I fetched her a cab. She was drunk."
"Like you got me a cab before?"
"No, not like that at all."
The dumpster was high. I wondered how I'd ever gotten my garbage in it before. Then I realized I hadn't. Evan always took out my garbage when he took his. Fuck him. I threw the bag with all my force, aiming for the opening. It hit the side and tumbled back to the ground. Evan picked it up and tossed it with no effort.
"I never wanted to hurt you, Billie."
"Yeah? Well, you're really good at it. What do you care anyway? I'm just another stupid, stupid girl for you to play with."
He winced at my words, shaking his head slowly. "You were never that."
I ran upstairs. I could feel him right behind me. I slammed my door in his face. I promised myself I wouldn't give him my tears, but once they started, I couldn't turn them off. I cupped my mouth, but somewhere deep inside something was howling to get out in a violent way, causing my whole body to shudder. He was at my door. He heard everything.
"Billie, are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay, but don't worry, I will be."
"Let me in … please."
I ran to the door, confirming I'd locked it. Then I slid the chain in place.
"Leave me alone."
I didn't want him to hear me cry anymore. My tears no longer belonged to me. They were for him too. For the boy who'd lost so much that he couldn't even deal with life. I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes. I braced my arms against the walls as the hot water ran over me, but soon I couldn't do that anymore. My legs shook. I sat on the floor of the tub, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be loud as I rocked back and forth.
The steam made a nice thick cloud around me, and the curtain was pulled close, but I still heard him … felt him in the room. I didn't even acknowledge him at first.
"How did you get in?"
"You left the window unlocked. You shouldn't do that."
I pulled back the curtain. His expression, broken and sad, actually wrenched at my heart, but my bitterness protected me. "Apparently."
"I know it's wrong for me to be here."
"It's a violation of my privacy. I thought you were all about that."
"I'll leave if you want." He gripped the edge of the tub. "I just had to make sure you are okay. Let me stay. Please, angel, let me stay with you."
I didn't answer because I did need him. The one person who'd made me feel this way was the only one who could make it better. Maybe he understood that, because he got in the tub behind me, fully clothed, except for his shoes, as if that was a normal thing to do. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my back.
"I'm so sorry, Billie Marie. Please forgive me."
I don't know when my tears ended and his began. They landed on my shoulder and felt several degrees hotter than the water falling from the showerhead. I crawled into his lap and held him until both of us were spent of the emotions.
"Evan, will you talk to me?"
"Let me take care of you first."
He stood and turned off the shower. He wrapped me in a towel and carried me to the bed. I watched him clean up all the drips we'd made. Then he stood on a towel and removed every article of soaked clothing from his body.
He wrapped his arms around me, spooning my back against his chest.
"I can't stay here, Billie. I'm so sorry, but I don't want to lose you. Will you let me stay … in your life right now? Will you take my key back?" he asked.
"Yes."
I'd have given him the key to my heart if I wasn't worried he'd throw it back in my face.
He twirled a piece of my hair between his fingers. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. There is something wrong with my heart."
"There is nothing wrong with your heart, Evan. You've been through a tragedy, but you need to talk about it because you're choosing to suffer alone. That will only destroy you."
He nodded before kissing my forehead. "I know, but right now can we go to sleep? I haven't slept in three days."
"Why not?"
"I needed my cuddle buddy."
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was mid-afternoon. I awoke to Evan's lips against my shoulder. "Morning, sunshine." He cupped my breast, his thumb flicking my nipple.
"What are you doing?"
"I guess I'm trying to apologize some more."
"With sex?"
"With actions."
I turned to face him. "Talk to me, Evan. I need your words right now."
He sighed, backing away from me. "What do you want to know?"
"First, I am sorry too. I didn't mean to go through your stuff like that. I put everything back once I realized I was snooping. And honestly, the photo wasn't-"
He placed a finger over my lip. "I overreacted on both accounts. It's a beautiful picture. I replaced the glass and I rehung it with an anchor so it won't fall again."
"It fell? I thought you smashed it."
"No, I punched the wall and it fell. I shouldn't have done that either."
"Why did you?"
"The last good memory I have was Orange Beach. We spent Thanksgiving at my grandmother's, like we always did. My dad thought we should try to find our surfing legs again since we were going to Sri Lanka in a month. We went to Orange Beach all the time as kids, but we hadn't been since moving to Chicago."
I waited for him, afraid that if I interrupted he might stop talking. I stroked his hair. His hand rested on my hip. "My sister, Erin, was eleven. Only eleven, Billie. She died before she even lived. I combed the beach for hours with her. She'd search for shells and tell me about all her big dreams to become a marine biologist one day. She would have done it too. She was determined like that. She told me all these facts about … " He tilted his head as if trying to recall it. "Starfish."
"Starfish?"
"Yep. How they regenerate their arms and carry a special armor on their bodies. I remember thinking she was growing up and I loved getting to see a glimpse of the smart, confident woman she was going to be. Then she told me about this boy she liked at school. And I hated that she was growing up. I wanted to put armor around her."
"You were a good brother."
"You know who was a really good brother? My brother. His name was Owen, like the book."