She had to be rational. This was not bad or wrong of her. This was okay.
When Mr. Perez wrapped the measuring tape around her waist, he paused and smiled nostalgically. “Do you know what your mother used to say?Leave me enough room to eat and dance.”
Oh. Eve breathed out a sharp breath, the prickles of pain clogging up her sinuses. “I remember.”
“My mom says the same thing.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Gabe’s eyes were warm on her, his phone neglected on the couch next to him. “She wears a lot of leggings these days. Says she doesn’t want to miss out on something delicious because of buttons.”
“Smart lady,” Mr. Perez observed.
“Yes.” She nodded at Mr. Perez. “Yes, leave me enough room.”To eat and dance.
Eve held it together while he finished taking measurements, though her fingernails had left indentations in her palms by the time they were finished. She couldn’t look into the mirror as she changed, for fear of seeing her mother there instead of her.
She could feel her smile growing more wooden and fake as she chatted with Mr. Perez and determined her bill. After much haggling, she paid what she believed was a fair price for the dress and his labor, though she was sure he was still undercharging her.
Gabe coughed when they agreed on the price, and she glanced over her shoulder, certain she would find him judgmental and glowering. But it wasn’t her father standing there. As she watched, Gabe flicked through something on his phone, and coughed again. It was the dust, maybe, then. And not the frivolous, wasteful spending she was engaged in.
She sniffed as they walked out the door, the terrifying trickle of tears clogging her sinuses. She had to hold it together. She couldn’t lose it in front of anybody but especially not this man.
She might have made a mistake in bringing him with her. So much for sticking her neck out and not hiding. She wouldn’t have broached the memories in this store had he not urged her to enter. She would have merely coveted the dress from outside and walked away, probably driven an hour plus to buy a far inferior dress off the rack. “Are you okay to head home?” She was proud of how well modulated her tone was.
“Sure.”
She recalled what Mr. Perez had said about Gabe’s childhood. She wanted to ask him a million questions about the life he’d lived before she’d come along, but she didn’t know how. “Do you want to get a milk shake before we go?”
“Huh?” He followed her gaze to the ice cream parlor. “No. I’m good.”
“I didn’t realize you came to the Kane’s lake house so often as to be a regular.”
“From when I was adopted ’til I graduated high school.”
There was something curiously flat and rehearsed about his answer, and she wanted to question him about that, but she’d do it later, when she wasn’t dealing with her own memories. “Ah.”
They stopped at her car, and she got into the driver’s seat. “The weather’s nice,” he commented. “Want to put the top down?”
That was a good idea. The wind might whisk away any tears that leaked out.
She drove sedately out of town, but as each mile flew behind her, pressure and fear and memories built up inside her, and she pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator. The wind whipped through her hair, burning her face, and she drove faster.
They sped up the road, and around each curve. She let the car become a part of her body, allowing it to take them farther and higher, every sense alert for any other drivers. The road was blessedly empty, though. It was them and pavement.
“Goddamn, you can drive.”
She glanced at Gabe, and his grin morphed into horror as his gaze met hers. “Are you okay?”
Fresh fear ran through her and she touched her cheek, disgusted and stunned to find it wet. Oh no. She hadn’t been able to keep it in. She hadn’t been able to keep the facade of perfect, normal blandness in place.
He’d see the cracks. Now he’d know.
She hit the brakes so hard they squealed and pulled off onto a scenic lookout. Her chest rose and fell as she cut the engine.
“What’s wrong?” Gabe asked, and his voice was lower now.
She shook her head and wrestled with her belt before tumbling out of the vehicle. She had to get away.
But there was nowhere to run. She stepped up to the edge of the overlook and looked down at the valley, a knee-high guardrail standing between her and the trees below. The spring breeze was warm and gentle on her wet face.
