Chapter 92

#Chapter 92 – Last Chance “It was that bad, huh?” Victor says, taking in her determined face. He breathes out a tired sigh and settles down next to her, staring out into the kitchen garden. He’s surprised, a little, at how quickly he went from a frenzy of anxiety to complete calm.

Evelyn huffs a laugh. “Your dad and your brother, Victor,” she says, shaking her head. “They’re real pieces of work. How did you turn out so nice, with them in your lives?”

He shoots her a look from the side of his eye. “You think I’m nice?”

“Well,” she shrugs. “Comparatively. It’s at least been a couple of months since you’ve called me a w***e and suggested I was no better than my sons’ surrogate.”

Victor groans and puts a hand over his face. “God, don’t remind me. I’m so sorry, Evelyn.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “I don’t blame you, especially not now, seeing where you come from. At least you came around.”

“And you don’t think they can come around too?” Victor asks, still covering my face.

“I’m not sure,” she says, hesitating, “that it’s really worth the effort to try. They’re not my father-or brother-in-law, after all.”

The two sit quietly for a moment, taking in the peace of the rooftop garden. It’s a beautiful night, balmy and clear, shockingly warm for winter. Victor grimaces, thinking that he should be grateful that he got lucky weather for his wedding weekend, so rare in December. But he isn’t even thinking about his wedding.

“Are you okay?” Evelyn asks softly. Victor pauses for a moment, then slowly swings his head back and forth.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Talk to me,” she says, nudging him with her elbow.

He laughs a little. “You know, I tried to call my therapist tonight. But she didn’t pick up.”

She pauses and then hesitates before saying, “did I know you were seeing a therapist?”

“Well, I’ve never actually seen her,” he says with a laugh. “But I’ve been talking to one since you and the boys came into my life. Trying to figure out” he waves a hand in the air, “how to balance all of this, how to bring the boys in, how to talk to Amelia. How to…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but they both know that Evelyn herself is the third confusing addition to his life.

“So, you couldn’t get your therapist on the line?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “And it sucks. I could have really used her. She’s given me a lot of clarity these past couple of weeks.” He leans his head on the back of the bench. “I could use some clarity tonight.”

“Well, I’m a therapist,” Evelyn says, laughing a little and perking up. “Come on, use me.”

“Evelyn,” he says, his brows drawing together.

“No, really!” she says, turning around so her back is facing him. “We’ll sit back-to-back, you won’t even know it’s me. I promise, you won’t even be talking to Evelyn,” she says. “I’ll be a totally impartial therapist, just here to listen.”

Victor sighs, but sits up and turns so that their backs face each other. He looks up into the night sky, staring out at the stars. “How do we start?”

“Just…tell me what it is you wanted to talk to your therapist about,” she says, her voice soft. “I can help.”

“I was calling because…I was confused,” he says, still staring skyward. “I just…hated tonight. I hated the rehearsal dinner, hated having to give fake smiles to all my family, hated having to tolerate my dad and my brother, who were so cruel to…someone who is important to me.”

Victor hears Evelyn hum contemplatively behind him, acknowledging what he’s saying and urging him to go on. He smiles, considering it’s precisely what his therapist would have done. Must be a technique they teach all of them.

“It should have been a really happy night,” he continues, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “I’m getting married tomorrow – it should have been…all about me and Amelia, the woman I love, being excited about our next steps.”

Evelyn is silent for a moment, but when he doesn’t continue she prompts him. “And you found you were…not excited?”

“Not at all,” he says, his voice rough with disappointment. “I guess I was distracted, because my sons weren’t there, and my family had hurt…my friend’s feelings so much. But the truth is, even if all that had gone away…I’m not sure I’d have been excited anyway. I don’t know if I’m blaming the bad night on my dad and my brother…or if there’s really something…else.”

There is a long pause before she speaks. “Do you love her, Victor?”

For a moment, Victor doesn’t know which woman his therapist is asking about. He hesitates.

“She’s your mate, Victor.” His therapist’s voice has gone soft, almost breathless. Suddenly, he snaps back into reality, into the awareness that it’s Evelyn he’s talking to. Not some impartial therapist.

He turns to face her, but Evelyn stays as she is, her back to him. “You’re never going to find a better match for yourself than your mate,” she says softly. “It’s written for you; you’d be a fool to chase anything else.”

“But can she make me happy? Even if she doesn’t want what I want? Even if she’s not…”

Victor watches Evelyn shaking her head, admiring the way that the firelight shines on her glossy brown curls.

“You’ve got to try to make it work, Victor,” Evelyn whispers. “You owe her your allegiance. Perhaps…

perhaps if there wasn’t a mating bond between you, perhaps if it hadn’t snapped into place, I’d give you different advice…”

“But it did.” Victor says, finishing her sentence for her.

Evelyn turns then, looking up into his face. “But it did.”

Victor stares at Evelyn’s face, loving every curve of it – the soft slope of her cheek down to her pointed chin, her sweet small nose, her rich, full lips. His eyes dwell on those lips, the hunger rising in him.

Behind the hunger, though, is a disappointment.

He realizes, suddenly, that he’d been hoping Evelyn would say to leave Amelia.

Victor raises his eyes to meets Evelyn’s then, realizing that she’s stronger than him. She holds his gaze, knowing every single one of his thoughts, his emotions, instinctually reading them on him. But there is something here, Evelyn. It is real, he says, the words echoing in his mind, and he knows that she hears them. She shakes her head.

“You have to go to her, Victor.” Evelyn says.

He lifts a hand, reaching for her face, but she flinches back, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “Please,” she says, and he can hear her heart breaking in the word.

Victor rises to his feet, unable to tear his eyes from her. He shakes his head, not knowing what to do.

“If you don’t know,” she says, still looking into her lap, “then I will decide for you.” Evelyn raises her face to look at him, her expression steel with determination. “She is your mate, Victor, and I will never be.

Go to your bride.”

They stare at each other for a moment that stretches itself, seeking out the corners of the infinite. And then Victor blinks, breaking their gaze. He turns without a word and heads towards the elevators.

Evelyn listens as his footsteps fade, her eyes closed, tears dripping into her open hands.