In February, Della and Oscar’s house sold for just under the asking price, and the proceeds were divided between them. Afew days later, their divorce was finalized. Under the settlement, Della received spousal support, half of Oscar’s pension, and remained on his health benefits, though Tommy admitted he would have made sure she was covered regardless of the court’s ruling. With it all finally behind them, Evie breathed a quiet sigh of relief and hoped that, for once, life would stay calm until she finished her courses. She was too exhausted to keep cleaning up everyone else’s chaos.
Chapter Fifteen: Haven
Evie
Evie heaved herself onto the oversized island stool in Thorn's apartment and pulled the cutting board, knife and eggplant toward her. It was the evening of her twenty-second birthday, and they were home alone, which wasn’t unusual since Tommy started his security firm. When he'd given her birthday gift a few days before he left, he'd apologized and told her he and Nissa were meeting with a potential client and would be back in a week. Evie had been curious about why he was taking Nissa instead of Thorn, but figured it was because he didn't want her to be alone on her birthday.
The contractors had done an amazing job of designing Thorn's apartment to best suit his six foot ten inch height and three hundred and thirty pound bulk, and while Evie needed a step stool to stand at the raised counters, use the stove or wash dishes, everything worked perfectly for Thorn and since it was her idea to have the apartment built to accommodate him, she really couldn't complain.
He was an avid gym rat, loving anything that kept him moving or pushed his limits and as she began slicing the eggplant, she listened to him tell her about his recent foray into yoga, something Nissa had suggested to him after she used her flexibility, dance and gymnast backgrounds and Mossad training against him, taking him to the mat with practiced ease during a sparring session, something Evie was sure had stung his ego quite a bit even if he hid it well.
“I have enjoyed it, for the most part.” He told her as he diced red, green and yellow peppers on the other side of the island from her. “But it is very difficult to find your Zen headspace when people are constantly pestering you for your number.” He frowned, almost pouting as he complained about being hit on, making Evie bite her lower lip so she wouldn't burst into giggles. “American men and women are very forward.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a case of cultural differences or if he was genuinely being sexually harassed, which was concerning if the instructor ignored it - or worse, joined in. But since he looked more annoyed than upset, she allowed herself a soft chuckle. “Maybe we should get you a cheap wedding ring,” she said, amused. “Then you’d look like you’re off the market.”
Thorn paused his careful chopping and looked like he was seriously considering her suggestion, which made her feel a little bad for laughing if it was bad enough for him to want to pretend he was married to make them leave him alone.
Taking advantage of his distraction, Evie stood up on the rungs of her stool and reached across to grab a slice of red pepper to snack on. Thorn was too quick for her though and tapped her hand with the flat side of the blade, grinning when she pulled back quickly with a mock pout and slicing her off a larger piece.
“You know better than to put your hand near the cutting board when I am chopping,Mališa,” he chided her gently. “And you know you just have to ask.”
“You weren’t chopping, though.” She smiled and took the pepper from him, nibbling on the end as she watched him return to dicing. She freely admitted she liked watching him with a knife. Even in the kitchen, there was a loose, comfortable precision to the way he handled it that made it clear the blade could go from utensil to weapon in half a second.
“I might have started again.” He frowned, shaking his head, his face paling slightly. The idea of how easily he could hurt her, even by accident, clearly made his stomach twist. “You trust me and my reflexes more than you should.”
The exasperation in his voice made her smirk and she couldn't resist teasing a little more.“Are you saying I shouldn't trust you?”
He gave her a look that clearly told her she was poking the bear unwisely, shaking his head again. “That is not what I said.” He grumbled, looking faintly annoyed. “How are things with your mother?”
The sudden shift in topic made the giggle that was bubbling in her throat at his expression die and she looked down, picking her knife back up and going back to slicing the eggplant.
“Fine.” She mumbled, knowing why he was asking and that he wasn't going to let it go.
This was her third weekend since classes ended and exams began that she’d spent at the tower, only going home when she was fairly certain her mother would be asleep. Living with her mom had been fun at first after almost two years apart. They’d spent time catching up, going to cafés, swimming together like they used to before Oscar’s arrest and her mother’s move to North Carolina.
But as the weeks passed, Della began spending more time at the church. It hadn’t bothered Evie at first; she was happy to have the apartment to herself after class so she could study without interruption. Then she started noticing Della acting funny.
She would spend hours in the morning on her knees next to her bed, clutching her rosary and praying softly,barely acknowledging Evie when she came in to say goodbye before leaving for class. She started wearing plain, black skirts and white cotton blouses exclusively, and when Evie peeked inside her closet, she saw that all Della's designer clothes and handbags, one of the few things she splurged on, were gone, replaced by five black skirts and five white blouses.
That would have been fine if it had stopped there. Her mother was a grown woman with her own bank account; what she did with her things or spent her money on was none of Evie’s business. But then the pictures and artwork around the apartment started disappearing, replaced by images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. Little statuettes of saints began appearing on every surface, while whatever they replaced would be dumped on Evie’s bed. Conversations about what was going on went nowhere. No matter how Evie brought up her displeasure; gently, angrily, jokingly, or seriously, it was met with silence or deflection.
But the most recent issue was her mother deciding that Oscar’s evil was what had caused her drinking. She was now completely convinced that everything that happened, from the drunk driver who killed Tommy’s parents to Tommy’s kidnapping, was because Oscar was a demon sent to tempt her away from Christ. No one - not Tommy, not Evie, not even the priest or the nuns - could convince her otherwise.
“Fine? Really?” Thorn reached across the island and gently lifted her chin with his finger, so she met his gaze.
Evie rolled her eyes. “Okay, not fine,” she admitted. “I’m starting to wonder if we should have a CT scan done to see whether she’s had a stroke or has a brain tumor. I don’t know what else to do.”
She caught Thorn’s hand in hers, the comfort of his hand wrapping around her fingers almost enough to make her tearup. “If she wasn’t getting so much comfort and support from the church, I’d tell her to stop going. She honestly believes Oscar is the spawn of Satan.”
“Did you speak to the priest about it?” Thorn’s eyes searched her face, his voice full of concern, not just for her, but for Della too.
“Yeah.” She nodded, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “He said they’re doing everything they can to convince her otherwise, but he thinks it’s her way of explaining why she loved him. In her mind, he was a devil disguised to tempt her into alcohol and debauchery, to lead her away from the church and manipulate her. Apparently, Mom was very religious, like, considering-joining-a-nunnery religious, before she met him.”
She sighed. “Father Garrett and Sister Mary Francis have been wonderful, though. I can’t fault either of them. Sister Mary Francis is with her tonight. She insisted I go out and actually enjoy my birthday.”
“So why are you here with me and not out celebrating with your friends?” Thorn frowned, concern clear in his eyes as he let go of her hand and cupped her cheek.
"Because this is where I want to be, and I'm having fun, we're making all my favourite Serbian food, and you promised I could tryViljamovka." She grinned. "And aren't you my friend?"
