like that, the pieces left of my heart splintered inside me. On a choked sob, I hauled open the back passenger door of the cab and threw myself in.
“Newcastle airport?” the driver confirmed.
“Yes,” I wheezed out.
As he pulled away from the sidewalk, I couldn’t help myself.
I turned and looked out the back window of the car and watched as Roane Robson scrubbed the tears from his face, his desolation so acute, there was a flicker . . . a flicker of doubt.
A flicker.
Now who was lying?
The truth was, as I cried in the back seat of the cab, the driver stiff and uncomfortable with my emotional display, I felt more than a flicker of doubt.
Yet I couldn’t seem to make myself ask the driver to turn the car around.
The impact of the shattered illusion of the life I thought we were beginning together in Alnster was bigger than my doubts.
I wanted Greer. I wanted Chicago.
My life there had never been a lie, a fantasy.
My life there was real.
I’d been lonely in Chicago, but it had never broken my heart.
Twenty-Seven
My friend was not glowing like people said pregnant women glowed. Her cheeks were flushed, yes, but the skin under her eyes was dark from lack of sleep.
Seven months pregnant, Greer sat on the sofa with her feet up on a stool, hands braced on her rounded stomach as she gazed at me. Pitifully.
We sat in her small apartment, while Andre was out picking up some takeout for dinner. I’d been back in Chicago for a week, and the aches and pains through my whole body would not dissipate.
The last time I remembered feeling like that was when my dad died.
Guilt mingled with my heartache because surely I shouldn’t equate breaking up with Roane to losing my father.
“It’s not just about him,” Greer suddenly said. “The way you talked about them during our catch-ups . . . it’s all of them. It’s the village and your friends, not just him. You’re homesick.”
“I’m not homesick,” I denied. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
It was true. I was renting a car and driving to Carmel to stay with my mom and Phil for a while.
“That’s not your home, Evie.”
“Greer . . .” I sighed. “Can we not? Can we just talk about the baby?”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Once the baby is here, that’s all we’ll talk about, trust me. So before the baby takes over everything, we’re talking about this, even if you hate me for it. Because . . .” She leaned toward me, her expression openly concerned. “I’ve never seen you like this. Not even about your mom.”
“Like what?” I asked dully.
“Like that.” Greer gestured to me impatiently. “Voice flat, eyes hard and empty. Every now and then I’ll see pain in them, which is a far sight better than nothing at all. You’ve lost weight.”
“I can’t lose weight in a week.” But it was true. My jeans felt a little looser around the waist.
“Evie . . . you’re grieving.”
“So what if I am?”
“So what if you are?” she snapped. “Evie, Roane didn’t die! The village didn’t disappear. You made a choice to leave him and it behind. Are you sure it was the right choice?”
I stared at her in disbelief. “He lied. They lied.”
“A white lie. Okay, two white lies. But he’s not your mom. This doesn’t mean he’ll lie to you again. Or that everything he showed you about who he is isn’t the truth. Don’t you think if you can forgive your mom for years of disappointing you, you can forgive him for one slipup?”
I glared at her. “I held him to a higher standard than that.”
“Well, that’s on you. Not him. He’s just a human being.”
Astonished, I flew to my feet. “How can you take his side?”
“Because,” she replied calmly. “You tore out of there before giving yourself a chance to process what happened. The result being a miserable not even half version of my best friend standing in my sitting room.”
“I don’t need to take this.” I grabbed my purse and turned to leave.
“Evie, stop.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Greer pull herself to standing. She gave me an appeasing look.
“Let me just ask one more thing and you can storm out of here after.”
I nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
“What terrified you so much that you cut him out without even considering forgiving him?”
Fresh tears welled in my eyes. I shrugged.
“That’s not an answer,” Greer pushed.
“It was proof, okay. Proof that none of it was real.