worse before it even had a chance of getting better?
Chapter 23
EVIE
It’d been three days since the world had found out about James, and I was still reeling. I’d stupidly clicked on filtered messages on my social media accounts and had been flooded with messages and friend requests. The vast majority of the messages that I’d skimmed were mean-spirited and some were even downright cruel. I’d ended up turning off all of my notifications and deleting the apps from my phone.
Tristan swore he’d find out how this happened, but the damage was done. On Sunday James, my mom, and I had gone to the park. I figured having Tristan or Cassie with us would draw more attention than I was ready for, but reporters spotted us anyway. They lobbed questions at me about James and Jamie and why I’d kept it a secret. They asked if I was hoping to get pregnant by Tristan. The questions made me want to throw up.
Who the fuck thinks it’s appropriate to ask if I think my three-year-old son will become an addict like his father?
Rage bubbled up in me again thinking about it. I’d almost punched that troll in the face, but my mother had held me back and we’d ushered James out of there as quickly as possible. Then I’d gone home and collapsed in my anger, frustration, and heartache, while my mother watched cartoons with my son.
Yesterday had been my first day at work since the news broke and I hadn’t been prepared for two clients to cancel and the remaining four to ask me about Jamie and the band. While it was true that sometimes clients thought they’d formed a friendship with me because they’d bared their souls to me, I rarely offered up information about my own life. They were my clients, not my friends, and I’d strived since day one to be professional.
I loved my job, but I dreaded going in today. I’d been tempted to take the week off, hoping that some of this would blow over in the meantime, but that wasn’t fair to my clients.
But was I helpful to them in my current state of distress? They certainly didn’t have my full attention, and that pissed me off. I hadn’t even been this scattered when Dustin left me. I’d managed to sink myself into work back then, focusing on my clients and helping them while my life fell apart.
I scoffed. My failed marriage had nothing on being outed as a rock star’s baby mama looking for her next score.
I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, hating the sadness in my eyes, the tightness of my mouth. I was frustrated, and I didn’t know how to pull myself out of this mess. I couldn’t let this drag me down. I had to think about James and Tristan and my job. I couldn’t let this get the better of me. I was stronger than that.
Snap the fuck out of it, Evie, I told myself as I pushed away from the sink and walked into my bedroom to finish getting dressed. Then I poked my head in James’ room. He’d been surprisingly quiet, which never boded well.
“Hi, Mommy,” he said, holding up two dinosaur toys that Tristan had gotten him.
“Hi, bug.” I crouched down next to him and pulled him into my arms.
“Oof, you squished Rex,” he said, with a giggle that could always reset my mood.
“Oh no. Is he okay?”
James giggled again. “Yeah. He’s not real.”
“Just making sure,” I said.
“They all died a long time ago. Like daddy,” he said.
His calm statement sucked the air out of me.
“Um. Yes. Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. Would I ever be able to successfully navigate conversations like this?
“No. It’s okay. Should I bring some toys to Tristan’s later? No. He has lots. And they’re all for me,” James said, his shift so sudden I was trying to catch up.
While his words about Jamie broke my heart, apparently it was just a statement to him. Understanding a toddler’s thought process wasn’t easy, but I would wait until he actually wanted to talk about Jamie.
“Yes, they are,” I said. “You can bring one or two more over if you want.”
“That’s okay. Can we have pancakes for breakfast?” he asked, as my apartment door opened.
“Where’s my adorable and mischievous grandson?” my mom’s voice called out.
James grinned at me and then jumped up, running from the room, dinosaurs still in hand.
“Here I am,” I heard him say.
“What are we doing