She didn’t get it though. She missed the whole f**king point. We didn’t care about the cookies. We just wanted her. So badly, it was like an ache inside that never, ever healed. Having her for that brief time just made it hurt all the more when she turned away from us again. And I had hated myself because I felt like I wasn’t enough to make her want to stay.
She was always so checked out, so absent, so seemingly unconcerned with the horror her sons were living through right under her nose. I always told myself that I didn’t love her because she had never shown any love for me. But the truth was, I did love her. I could admit that now. I wanted so badly for her to love me back and she never had. I wonder for the first time what happened to her that she gave up so completely, gave up her very soul. I let myself feel the hurt that washes over me when I recall the blank look on her face as my stepdad wailed on me, day after day after day.
But sitting here alone on my balcony, it suddenly seems as clear as day that it wasn’t about us. Nothing we could do would ever have been enough for her because she had already given up. She had given up so completely that she was empty inside, just like Evie had told me in her story all those years ago. But now I understood that that emptiness had everything to do with her, and nothing to do with me. Sitting here in the middle of the night, staring up at the sky, a feeling of peace washes through me, and I can breathe a little easier.
I think about my dad, my stepdad, although he always called himself my dad. Claiming me on one hand, but then never missing the opportunity to remind me that I only existed because my mother was a whore. I had taken that inside and made it my truth, replaying his words again and again whenever I felt weak, seeking for some reason to confirm to myself that I was worthless. I think about it for a long time and realize that I no longer have a burning desire to prove him wrong. I don’t need that anymore. The only person I want to prove anything to is Evie. She’s the only one who ever deserved it.
I think a lot about Evie. I think about how I was always so in awe of the fact that she was so much more than where she came from. But maybe I am too. Maybe we both ended up being better people than the people who raised us, or didn’t raise us, as the case was.
And that’s gotta be rare. Almost as rare as those counterclockwise whorled snails. The thought makes me smile.
I had told her that some people just know things in their heart. Maybe I know a few things in my heart too. Not as many as her, not by a long shot. But perhaps I have something to offer if I work really hard at it. I want so badly to be given that chance. Once upon a time, she had saved me by loving me, by believing in me. Will she be able to again? Even after everything? I hope to God the answer is yes.
I think about the unbelievable turn of events with Lauren, still a feeling of sickness rising up in my chest when I think about how close she came to putting someone else in the same position she had put me in. And Doc… what he had done for me. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
…it’s my hope that you will see, that I fought for you because you’re worth fighting for.
As the sun comes up in the sky, I go and get some paper and a pen and a book to write on, and I return to the balcony and write Evie a letter, pouring out all my thoughts on paper. Pouring out everything she was to me, everything she is to me, and everything I want so badly to be for her, asking her to please, please choose me again.
After I fold it up and put it in an envelope, something occurs to me. I go into my bedroom and reach in the back of my top drawer, pulling out the letter that I started writing to her all those years ago – the letter I’ve always used to remind myself what a despicable human being I was when I started to forget. A perfect instrument of self-torture, a perfect reminder of what I did to betray her. I don’t think I’ll do that to myself anymore. But I hope it will make her understand a little better.
I go into work late the next morning, finally falling asleep for a couple hours in the early morning. On my way in, I stop by Evie’s apartment, ringing Maurice’s bell. He comes lumbering out, looking at me suspiciously. I smile my most charming smile and ask him if he’ll put the manila envelope I’ve placed the letters in under Evie’s door. I want her to read them but I don’t want her to have to face me until she’s ready. Until it’s her choice. Maurice nods and closes the door.
I close myself in my office. Several times throughout the day, Doc's words run through my head …it’s my hope that you will see, that I fought for you because you’re worth fighting for.
Will Evie think so now that she knows the truth?
Later that evening, I walk out to get a coffee down the street, needing the fresh air and the caffeine in order to keep myself from nodding off over the last couple of emails I plan on sending.
As I step off the elevator to the lobby, I see Gwen walking my way. I cringe internally, but keep my expression blank as she veers toward me. The expression on her face is the same one I would imagine a shark wears right before it sinks its teeth into a porpoise. Coming in for the kill.
"Hi, Jake," she says, a fake smile on her face.
"Gwen," I say back, moving past her.
"I ran into Evie at the spa," she speed talks.
I stop and turn to her. She’s the one who told Evie about my tattoo. Not that it matters. In fact, maybe the way it happened was for the best. Except for the fact that Evie was probably publicly accosted by Gwen the land shark, noshing her way through those who dare to get in her way.
I look at her thoughtfully for a second. "I should probably thank you then, Gwen. Evie needed to see my tattoo and I had hesitated too long. She needed to see it because it’s her. It’s our story."