"Who do you hate, Jake?" Dr. Fox asks one final time.
"Me. I hate me," I say through panting, hitching breaths. "I hate me. Oh God. Oh God. I hate me."
Then I feel his hand grip my shoulder and he leaves it there as I bury my face in to the upraised pile of pillows that miraculously held their position through my pounding, and I finally wail for the first time since Evie held me in her arms on a rooftop under a summer, night sky and told me I had the heart of a lion. I wail for Seth, and I wail for all the hope I held onto day after day, year after year that my parents would find something in me worth loving, I give in completely and let the grief and longing for Evie consume me, wailing for my loss and my own feelings of self-hatred at my abandonment. I wail for what I did with Lauren, my disgust with myself, and all the hatred that has filled my heart for so many, many years. I wail until my voice is hoarse and I am drained of emotion. When my head clears and my own hiccupping and sputtering has trailed away, I come back into myself and note that Dr. Fox's hand is still gripping my shoulder tightly, anchoring me.
I remain still for several minutes until I feel calm enough to lift my head. I stand up straight and turn around slowly, looking at Dr. Fox. He has a somber look on his face, but there is absolutely no pity in his eyes, and I’m grateful for that. I let out a ragged breath and sit back down on my bed, quiet, letting my ragged breathing return to normal. After a few minutes I look around the room. It looks like a crazed animal tore it apart. I suppose that’s exactly what did happen. I let out a humorless laugh and run my hand through my short hair.
"That must have looked really pathetic. I just made a total fool out of myself didn’t I?" I grimace.
"Yes. Finally. Maybe we can get started now." His voice is gentle.
I look up at him and I can’t help it. I laugh. And then I laugh harder at what we must look like right now. Me, a gimpy, swollen, bandaged mess, sitting amongst the destruction of my hospital room, and Einstein there, white hair awry, sitting casually in his chair as if this happens every damn day. Both of us laughing now for some godforsaken reason I can’t for the life of me even figure out.
CHAPTER 15
After another couple hours of meetings at work, I head to the grocery store to pick up dinner ingredients. I cooked for myself quite a bit when I moved out of Phil and Lauren’s house and I enjoy it. I pause after gathering all the ingredients I need for dinner, and then walk over to the health and beauty section of the grocery store and throw a box of condoms in my cart. I don’t want to be presumptuous with Evie and I’d sure as hell never pressure her, but it’s good to be prepared. And I don’t have one single condom anywhere. I haven’t been with anyone in well over a year. I wish it had been in well over forever.
I’m almost afraid of how much I want her in my bed. I wonder if she’s been with anyone sexually and the jealousy that flares inside of me makes me clench my jaw and move the thought aside immediately. Through the years, I pictured her with someone else sometimes just to torture myself. I felt like I deserved the agony it brought. It accomplished what I intended it to – it made me hate myself even more, but that’s part of the person I’m trying to leave behind. Why shouldn’t she have been with someone else? Still, it f**ks me up to think about it.
Whether she’s been with someone or not, she might not be ready to be with me, who as far as she knows, she practically just met. Still, the attraction between us is palpable and I know she feels it too. And that brings a comfort level that even I wasn’t prepared for. Either way, I just want her to stay with me tonight. I want her under my roof, where she belongs.
I drop the groceries off at my condo and quickly unpack them before having to rush out the door to pick up my girl. My girl. I smile to myself.
I drive over to Evie’s wondering if she’ll really even pack an overnight bag. It’s not like I waited for an answer and I wouldn’t be able to blame her if she wasn’t ready. Thinking of having her all to myself in my condo, kissing her, touching her has the blood flowing south, and I adjust myself in my seat.
I knock on her door and when she opens it, I note two things immediately. One, she looks gorgeous, and two, there’s a small overnight bag in her hand. My heart soars and I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. She’s going to stay the night with me. My heart starts hammering in my chest. Part of me feels like a nervous teenager, and part of me feels like throwing her down on the floor right here in the hallway and claiming her as mine. A small, overnight bag has me feeling simultaneously terrified and invincible.
She knocks on Maurice’s door calling "’Night, Maurice!" as we’re walking to the front and he calls back, "’Night, Evie," which reminds me that any Evie-claiming on hallway floors will most likely be frowned upon by Maurice.
We drive to my condo, and I tell her about my meetings that morning and a little bit about the deadlines the company is up against. She listens attentively, asking a few questions. It feels unbelievably good to talk to Evie about everyday stuff going on in our lives, and not everyday f**ked up shit like what we were up against when we were kids. God, I’ve been craving this for what feels like my whole damn life. I used to dream about what it would feel like to come home to my girl at the end of a workday. Back then, I had no idea I’d be running a company, but I knew I would work hard every day of my life to give us more than what our parents had given us. I was going to make her safe, make her happy. I was going to make a home with her.