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“No. Believe it or not, I didn’t break my arm on purpose. And I’m not running you out of business. The store will be just fine without me there. Where is this coming from?”
Before I have a chance to hear his response, Evan gets up from his chair, takes the phone from my hand, and addresses Mr. Doyle himself.
“Hello, Mr. Dover? Yes, this is Evan Davis, Miss Williams’ doctor. She’ll be ready to return to work in two months’ time. Until then, please stop bothering her.”
He hangs up the phone, but not before I hear my boss yelling at the other end that his name is Mr. Doyle, not Mr. Dover.
“Oh, no, that’s going to come back and bite me in the … umm … peach?” I laugh.
“That’s alright. You have a great peach.” Evan laughs.
“No, seriously, thanks for doing that, Evan. But … you don’t know him. He’ll find a way to hold this against me.”
“Then quit. How many times have I told you that beauty shop is not for you? I understand you’re passionate about makeup, but that awful man has been making your life miserable for far too long.”
“Yeah. So, what then? What am I supposed to do? Evan, I don’t have a penthouse in the middle of Boston overlooking half the city, and a three hundred-thousand-dollar Lamborghini. It’s not that easy for me to just give up a job,” I explain.
“You could…” his voice trails off.
“I could? How? If I win the lottery?” I joke.
“We could share.” His eyes narrow a little.
I watch his face and try to guess the meaning behind his words.
“You mean … be roommates?”
“You know what I mean, Dolly…”
“Evan, what has gotten into you lately with this marriage pact thing? I know we made a deal back in high school but—”
“But you don’t see me that way.” He gets up from the armchair and pours himself another glass of wine.
“I see you as my best friend—the most important person in my life. The guy who makes me laugh, the man I trust the most, the person I would do anything for. Anything.”
“But not the man you’re … attracted to … that way.” He drinks a little of his wine.
“I just don’t understand. Why do you need me to be attracted to you … like that? Isn’t our friendship enough for you? Look at us! We’re together right here, right now. You have me, Evan. Don’t we already spend all our time together? Do you want us to just … risk it all? For what? A relationship that will most likely end badly in only a few months? And then what? We’d lose seventeen years of friendship! I don’t understand. Why do you suddenly want that?”
He looks at me with an air of desolation that I can’t understand. Even though we’re friends, sometimes, I wish I could read his mind.
“I … never mind,” he says.
“Evan, come on. Let’s not leave this conversation on this note of—See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. This is precisely what our talks, or worse, our fights, would be like if we were a couple. Just awkward silence and frustration. Why do you want that?”
“I don’t. It’s alright. I’m not mad, don’t worry. I understand what you’re telling me. I understand that you’re not attracted to me like that. It’s fine. Let’s drop it. Come on. Let’s get your cast wrapped up so you can take a shower.”
I have a distinct feeling that this conversation is not over, but I follow Evan into the bathroom anyway.
“So, how’s this going to work, doctor?” I tease him, trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, Miss Williams, I’m going to expertly wrap up your cast to ensure it stays secure and waterproof while you shower.”
As I sit on the edge of the bathtub, Evan carefully wraps my cast in a plastic bag, securing it with a rubber band. His fingers move with gentle precision, the touch sending a shiver down my spine.
I try to push away the confusing emotions swirling inside me, reminding myself that we’re just friends.
As he finishes securing the cast, he flashes me a warm smile. “There you go, Miss Williams. Now you can shower without worrying about getting your cast wet.”
