Jake’s eyes widen at the word ‘girlfriend,’ and I hear murmurs from my family.Marco approaches us, my mother beside him, and I stiffen.Caleb meets his gaze and my brother holds out his hand.
“Thank you for protecting my sister.”
Caleb gives him a nod, and when he shakes his hand, my mother says quietly, “Come by for dinner someday.Eve,” her voice is hesitant before she adds slowly, “bring your young man around.”I don’t want to create a scene so I just nod.
“Come home with us,hermanita,” Marco begins, but I wrap my hand around Caleb’s.
“Not tonight.Take Mamá home.I’ll go home with Caleb.”My voice is steadier but there is a distance that my family can clearly sense.My older brother opens his mouth as if to argue but my mother touches his arm, shaking her head slightly.I watch my brothers take Mamá out of the station, and my chest squeezes painfully tight.
* * *
Caleb’s brothersgive us a ride to my apartment despite my our protests.I would have preferred to drive back in Caleb’s car, but Ethan just confiscated the fob stating that neither Caleb or I were fit to drive.Before I could figure out what was happening, Jake had us in the car and we were already on the road.
They drop us off at the entrance, the sleek black car idling at the curb.The ride has been unnaturally quiet—Caleb staring out the window instead of his usual easy banter, while Ethan sits in silence, behind the wheel.I catch Jake staring at me a few times through the rearview mirror, curiosity in his hazel eyes.“So you two are really dating?”
I open my mouth to say yes, but then recall that the only reason Caleb and I were pretending to date was to keep Luis away from me.And now he’s no longer around.
Caleb glances at him.“Mind your own business.”
Jake shakes his head.“Be nice to me.Or next time, I’ll let you stay overnight in a cell.”
“Jake.”Ethan’s voice has the lawyer chuckling.
They drop us off at the entrance, and as the car pulls away, Caleb and I stand in the quiet night air.His hand finds mine, and without a word, we head inside—together.
The moment we’re inside Eve's apartment, she’s moving with purpose—but there’s something off about it.Something forced.
“Sit,” she says, her hand on my arm, guiding me toward the couch.Her grip is firmer than necessary.“Let me get ice for your hand.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.Your knuckles are swelling.”She’s already halfway to the kitchen, pulling open the freezer.“I have an ice pack somewhere.Or frozen peas.Do frozen peas work?I think I read that somewhere.”
I follow her.“Eve.”
“Maybe I should make tea.Or coffee?Do you want coffee?”She’s opening cabinets now, her movements sharp and efficient, but her eyes don’t focus on anything for more than a second.“I think there’s ibuprofen in the bathroom cabinet.You should take some before the adrenaline wears off?—”
“Eve.”
“—because once it does, you’re going to feel everything, and?—”
I catch her wrist gently as she reaches for a mug.“Eve.Stop.”She freezes, her hand suspended mid-air.For a long moment, she just stands there, staring at my mug in the cabinet.Then she closes her eyes and takes a breath.
When she opens them again, there’s a crack in her composure that she’s trying desperately to hide.I understand then.
This is what’s breaking her.Not the confrontation with Luis.Not watching me get arrested.It’s the fact that for once, she doesn’t have a plan.For once, she can’t fix it with preparation and perfect execution.Eve, who always knows exactly what to do, who commands every situation with quiet confidence, is completely adrift.
And she hates it.
I turn her around to face me, my hands on her shoulders.Her eyes meet mine, and I see something I’ve never seen in them before: uncertainty.Fear.
“We’re both okay,” I tell her.“That’s all that matters.”
She nods, but I can feel the tension thrumming through her body.She’s holding herself together by sheer force of will, and it’s costing her.I pull her into my arms.For a second, she resists—Eve doesn’t break down, doesn’t show weakness—but then she lets out a shaky breath and leans into me, her forehead pressing against my shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur into her hair.Her hands come up to grip my shirt, tight enough that I feel the fabric pull.We stand like that for a long moment, her breathing gradually slowing to match mine.
“We should shower,” I say quietly.“Then get some sleep.Everything else can wait.”
