Evanescent - By Addison Moore Page 0,67

my skin. It makes me wonder why she didn’t dip under my sweater like she usually does. It’s cold out, certainly my skin would warm her hands.

Yesterday I trusted her like God himself, and now her every move is suspect.

“Laken—” I brush my cheek against hers. Her skin is so soft, it makes her feel impractically young, as if in some way she’s too naïve, too sweet and innocent to carry out such a malfeasance against my heart. I look over at her. My entire person is filled with an inexplicable sorrow as if innately I know the truth will certainly not set me free.

“What’s going on with you and Coop?” The words ooze from me like a bloodlet. “Why were you with him last night?” I stop shy of asking what they were doing, if she wanted it. An image of their bodies locked together pops through my mind, and I try to shake it away. I’m sure my darkest nightmares will show me a replay regardless if I want it or not.

The water whispers against the shore and fills the silence left in the wake of my question. Cooper is a disease that broke out over our relationship. He’s tearing up the fabric of who we are, shredding us to pieces, and I didn’t even know it.

Laken takes in a breath as if I’ve caught her off guard, and for a moment I wonder if Coop had filled her in on what happened after all.

Her cheeks darken in this dim light. I can tell she’s flustered by the way her fingers have spastically twined themselves around a loose thread on her sweater.

“Okay.” She swallows hard.

Tears glimmer in her eyes, and my heart drops. Shit. She’s not even going to deny it. I don’t know why I thought both she and Coop were going to try to pull off the world’s best snow job. I don’t know why I thought I was worth a lie or two—that the safekeeping of our so-called relationship was somehow worth the trouble.

“Are you ready to hear this?” She shoots the words out like daggers, and a ball of acid rips through my insides. The last thing I expected was Laken to be pissed at me.

“Yes,” I say it low, trying to defuse the situation.

“You never believe a damn thing I say,” she snaps. Her head ticks to the side as if she were readying for a showdown. If a shouting match is what she’s hoping for, she’ll be sorely disappointed. Not one part of me feels like fighting with Laken tonight or ever.

“What do you want me to believe?” I say it calm, sedate, and it only seems to piss her off more.

She takes a breath and holds it before bouncing to her left and gaping at me incredulously.

“Are we in Kansas again?” I shake my head. “Is that what this is about?” I can feel my blood pressure spike out of nowhere. I try to deny myself the right to an argument, but my emotions want to duke it out all the way back to her fictitious town.

“Forget it. You think I’m stupid.” She tries to get up, and I gently pull her back. I wrap my arms around Laken until she molds into me, and her perfume swims around me in laps.

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Laken. I never said that. I would never even think it.”

“You think I fell from a tree.”

“You did.”

“Look.” She lets out a sigh. “I don’t know what Coop told you or how you even found out I went over there.” She lies back in the sand and looks up at me with her eyes wide, her lips slightly downturned. “I’m going to tell you something else, and I’m pretty sure you won’t believe me.”

“Try me.” Because God knows I want to believe her more than I believe I’ll take my next breath.

“Okay.” She swallows hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

The moist slick reflects the moonlight and illuminates her features. Laken’s beauty outshines the moon and the lake. She’s a marvel that I plan on spending my entire life sketching. I dream of transposing her image to canvas in both oil and acrylic, charcoal and pastel. I’m hoping to surprise her with a stipple drawing of herself for Christmas. But I don’t know if she’ll want me around if I don’t buy into her fairytale musings.

Laken gets up on her elbows and gives an exasperated sigh as if she’s sorry she has to deal with

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