Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,83
up, but she presses on. “We flew everyone in over the course of the day and ours was to be the last trip. My entire family was on the plane, my parents, my brother, and Justin.”
“What about his parents, Prescott and Gracie?”
“There were only six seats on the plane. They flew in ahead of us.”
“Okay?”
Her lower lip trembles and she places her forehead on her knees. Her next words come out a muffled mess.
“Our destination wedding became a life-altering disaster when the plane went down. They said it was mechanical failure, something about the engine overheating. We stalled out on landing. The plane flipped end over end in the lagoon.” Her grip on her knees tightens. “I was the only one who survived.”
“Evelyn…” I don’t know what to say and decide to pull her into my lap. My eager dick deflates as the horror of that accident hits me. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
“The only reason I survived is because I wasn’t buckled in. My dress…” She waves her hand in the air. “Anyway, I was thrown clear while the plane came apart. At least that’s what everyone says happened. I was knocked out and nearly drowned. The only reason I didn’t is because some of the guests ran into the water and saved me. There I was, my wedding day, getting fished out of a lagoon, while my entire family died. It was life altering.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Grant mentioned an accident, but listening to Evelyn relive the disaster puts a lump in my throat. I lost my father years ago and still feel the loss. Some days are better than others. It’s not something a person ever gets over.
If I lost Brody and Cage, and our mother all in one fell swoop, I don’t know if I could stand living without them. I embrace Evelyn as she takes a deep breath.
“Every day, something reminds me of what I lost. There’s no getting over that kind of grief. But I had to do something, my grief was slowly suffocating me. Each day it felt like I was the one slipping away. Instead of living, I was slowly dying inside.”
I stroke her head, threading my fingers through her wet hair, and breathe in the humid air. Not knowing what to say, I let my hands speak for me with a gentle caress to her shoulder, fingers kneading the tight muscles of her neck, all light touches to let her know I care.
She takes in a deep breath and it’s unclear if she’s crying or simply taking the time to pick her words.
“That crash set me on a path of becoming someone I admired. To get there, however, I first had to face the kind of person I was.”
“And what was that?”
“A vapid, narcissistic, privileged bitch.” Her soft laugh sounds forced. “It just hit me one day. I was alone in the family home, wandering the halls, feeling sorry for myself. I looked down at my engagement ring and had an epiphany. Everything we had…it was just stuff, stupid, meaningless stuff, and I realized something else.”
“Go on?” I rub her shoulders, which I hope encourages her to continue.
“I was marrying Justin because it was expected, not because I loved him.” She looks up and touches my cheek. “I didn’t love him and that hurt more than I ever thought it could.”
“That’s sad.”
“It’s pathetic, but there’s more. I wandered into my closet and looked at all the ball gowns I’d only ever worn once, the shoes I only wore once a year, and I got sick of it. I got sick of all the stuff. The more time I spent in that house, the more I hated the materialistic over-indulgence that was my life. It was suffocating and I suddenly knew I needed to get away from it, get away before I did something I’d regret.”
“And what was that?” What would she do that she’d regret? Was she suicidal?
“I ran away.” Another soft laugh escapes her and she shakes her head a little. “I turned my back on all the daily reminders of everything I lost, and everyone I knew. The only thing I had left was stuff. My friends weren’t really my friends. None of them stuck around as I wallowed in grief. No one wanted me around because I reminded them of what happened the day of my wedding. I reminded them life was short and I don’t think they liked