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But then I realize he’s not looking at me. He’s looking over my shoulder.
I turn slowly and see Jack, Nick’s younger brother, standing in a doorway. His expression is a mix of belligerence and sheepishness.
“You came home early,” he says.
Nick inhales sharply. “This is what you’ve been doing to my home while I’ve been gone.” Deadly quiet. Menacing. Terrifying. Jack wilts under the weight of it.
“I was going to clean it up,” he starts.
“Get out.”
“I’m sorry. It?—”
“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” Nick says, advancing on him.
“But—”
“Get the fuck out of my apartment. Get the fuck out of my life. Everything you touch turns to shit. Just like Dad.”
The words hit Jack like a punch. He physically slumps backward. For a moment, all I can see is pain on the boy’s face. Then it hardens into a staggeringly similar imitation of Nick’s.
Jack approaches Nick with deliberate steps until they’re face to face. Then he says, “At least you’re finally being honest.”
Nick just says, again, “Get out.”
Jack goes to the elevator, gets in, but before the doors can shut, he holds them and shouts, “And it’s fucking hilarious that you think Dad and I are the only ones who manage to turn everything to shit.”
Then he lets the doors close on his furious, devastated face.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NICK
The elevator takes Jack away, leaving me alone in my ruined apartment with Evie, a thousand roses, and a pile of shattered dreams.
So much for a wonderful surprise.
I’m white-hot with rage. That little fucker. He used me. Used my money, used my apartment, used my good will until he’d sucked me dry. And then he bailed, embarrassing me in front of Evie, as one final fuck you.
I’ve never in my life been so angry. I think I blacked out for a moment because one second I was standing next to Evie with hundreds of eyes looking at us and the next I was on the other side of the room watching the cockroaches run. I got a twisted pleasure from seeing the fear in their eyes. It wasn’t enough to calm me though. Not even close.
But now that we’re finally alone I can take some stock of the situation. I inhale slowly, exhale at the same speed. It’s okay. Now it’ll be okay. This was a grade-A nuclear disaster, but it’s still salvageable. I still feel the same way about Evie. The roses are still nice. And the string players were probably overkill anyway.
Sue me, I’ve never done a big declaration of love before.
But regardless, this is a speed bump. That’s all. One I hit at a hundred miles per hour, but a speed bump all the same. I can still correct the course.
I turn slowly. Evie’s staring at the elevator, at the same spot where Jack’s face disappeared. She looks shell-shocked.
“Obviously this wasn’t how I wanted things to go,” I say. “But the sentiment remains the same.”
Evie still doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are now flickering around the room, at the mess, the roses, and always back to those closed steel doors.
“Evie,” I say gently.
She jumps at the sound of her name, like she’d forgotten that I was in the room. Her wide eyes turn up to me.
“Evie,” I say again, reaching a hand out to her.
