With any luck, he’ll get so fed up that he’ll decide to sleep in the guest bedroom. I’d originally wanted to turn that room into a space for Lunchbox, or even a room for our child if we’d decided to have one, but Evan was so against it.
“I want my parents to have somewhere to stay when they come visit,” he’d said, even though he hasn’t seen his parents since he left home at eighteen.
Even though he vehemently denies it every single time I bring it up, I know that he’s still holding onto the hope that they’ll spend the time and money to come down here. His parents have made it perfectly clear that they don’t support his ways and refuse to see him until he shapes up.
I’ve met them once over video call, and it was the most awkward exchange of my life. I still can’t believe that those two people birthed Evan.
When my phone screen lights up from a text, my sour mood instantly improves.
DANTE:
How are you?
I sit up in the bed and cross my legs underneath me.
ME:
I’ve been better. How are YOU? I know today has been hard on you.
DANTE:
I wish you had come to the repass. I needed you.
Fuck. I wasn’t expecting him to saythat.
My stomach flutters.
So… I've been kind-of-sort-of seeing Dante for the past few months, too. Our relationship is complicated, to say the least. He wants me to leave Evan, and I want to as well, but I’m not entirely comfortable with change. It took a lot for me to move in with Evan after living with my parents and sister for so long, and I procrastinate a lot. Ending one relationship to jump headfirst into another is terrifying.
Dante isn’t the kind of man one simply dates. He’s passionate and possessive, and he’s made it very clear that he isn’t okay with sharing me.
Soon. I’ll leave Evan soon—after I muster up the courage to do it. Even if it takes me leaving in the middle of the night.
I let out a breath and try to figure out what to say next, but he sends another text before I can.
DANTE:
I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
ME:
I’m sorry, Dante.
I wait to see if he’ll respond to my text, but he leaves me on read.
Huffing out a breath, I throw myself back into the pillows. I didn’t realize he felt that way; if he’d told me how much he wanted me there, I would have made sure to be there.
I’m so selfish. He just buried his son and all I can think of is how hard it is forme. Leo wasn’t mine; I should have been there for Dante today, and now I fear I’ve just fucked up any chances I had with him.
Lunchbox starts to whimper from the floor, so I pick him up and snuggle with him under the covers.
CHAPTER 3
ESSENCE
Lunchboxand I ended up taking a three-hour nap. We could have slept longer, but the sound of Evan slamming the cabinets and drawers wakes us up, causing my headache to return.
Evan is twenty-five years old, the same age as me, and yet I'm the only one in this house who’s capable of using their words. When he’s hungry, and I'm in a different part of the house, he starts slamming things around to let me know he wants to eat instead of just telling me.
