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He lifted his eyes to her and shook his head slowly. Evangeline covered her mouth with the back of her hand. When her eyes started to water, he ached to reach out and brush the tears from her cheeks.
"She passed away early last week. Her funeral was on Friday."
"Last Friday?" she asked, sniffing. She wiped under her eyes and took a sip of her iced tea, trying to compose herself. "I wish I'd known. I would have come to pay my respects."
He cleared his throat. "I didn't know you still lived in Cali."
"Where else would I be?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know.”
She stared at him. “What you said to me that night really hurt me, Beau.”
Glancing down at his coffee cup, he rolled it gently between his palms, thinking about that day—the day his life and his heart were ripped open and left to bleed out, and he ruined his whole fucking world with one conversation. He sucked in a breath, finally looking at her again. “Iamso sorry for that, Vee.”
“Why did you do it then?”
Beau peered through the curtains,cursing when he saw Evangeline get out of the taxi.
“What is she doing here?” he asked. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure his mom’s bedroom door was closed. Rushing to the front door, he opened it up before Evangeline could start hammering on it.
The thought of hurting her made him physically ache, but it was what he had to do.
“What are you doing here, Evangeline?” he asked coldly before she could say a word.
She frowned at the name he used, at the tone of his voice. He never called her Evangeline. “Where have you been, Beau?”
He shrugged, acting like he didn’t give a shit. “What do you mean?”
She hitched a hand onto her hip. “You’ve not been at school, your dorm room is empty, your number has been disconnected… Want me to continue?”
“And?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And?What thefuck, Beau? All you have to say is ‘and’?”
“Look, I was going to give you a call,” he lied. He couldn’t call her, or anyone, really. There was no money to pay the phone bill.
“To tell me what?” she hissed.
He drew in a deep breath through his nose, bracing himself to fracture his world. “I think we should see other people, Evangeline.”
She was stunned into silence. Then she began shaking her head, a small tear rolled down her face. “What?” she whispered.
“It’s over.”
More tears now. They were streaming down her cheeks. “You can’t be serious, Beau. We love each other.”
Those words—they were a dagger to his heart. “I think we’ve grown apart.”
“What?” she sputtered, trying to barge past him. He stood in her way, blocking her. She glared at him.
Resigned, he said, “Just go, Evangeline.”
“No! Not until you tell me the truth, Beau.”
“That is the truth! I don’t love you anymore.”
She gasped and he didn’t think he could feel any worse, but he was wrong. Licking his lips, he tried to calm his pounding pulse.
