Tempting Evan (JK Short Reads) by J. Kenner & Julie Kenner

Author:J. Kenner & Julie Kenner [Kenner, J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
Publisher: Martini & Olive
Published: 2019-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

Wildfire has always been my favorite bed & breakfast in Fredericksburg, a town that overflows with historic homes and quaint lodgings. This particular establishment, besides having large, comfy rooms and excellent food, has a koi pond surrounded by a native plant garden, all overseen by various bits of statuary ranging from gnomes to the Virgin Mary. In other words, a place for equal opportunity meditation, all accomplished under the backdrop of gurgling water and the soft chatter of squirrels in the peach and oak trees.

I’m sitting on the bench, engaged in a bit of meditation, when Evan strolls up. He sits next to me, silent, then bumps me with his hip, a silent entreaty to shove over. I do, forcing myself not to smile at the welcome familiarity of it all.

We sit in silence for a while, the setting summer sun cutting through the trees, making the garden glow with deep orange streaks of light. It’s a nice moment, and one I don’t want to end. Even more, though, I want the future. And I’ve asked him to come here so that I can grab hold of it.

“Thanks for coming,” I say.

“It’s a little déjà vu,” he says. “I almost didn’t come.”

“But?”

“But I couldn’t stay away,” he says. “Just like I can’t stay mad at you.”

I inspect my fingernails so that I can avoid looking him in the eye. But I’m smiling, and I think he knows it.

“Last time we were here, things didn’t go all that great between us,” he says, taking my hand and twining his fingers with mine.

“I know. It was hard for me. Seeing you, I mean. With Emily suddenly gone.” Everything I’m saying is absolutely true, but I know he understands something different than my truth. He thinks he was a reminder. A harsh reflection of the loss we’d both suffered. In truth, he was the manifestation of a promise I made to Emily to stay away from Evan. A promise she’s reminded me of day after day, staying my hand when I want to accept his dinner invitations, telling me I did the right thing when I cry at night, wondering what might have been.

I’d agreed because I’d thought her death was my fault. Not completely, but enough that the weight of it bore down on me, quashing my own desires and filling me with a need to repent. And, in part, with a need to punish. Both myself and Evan. Because if it was my fault, it was his fault too.

She’d seen us that night. Locked here in an embrace, his mouth hot on mine, his hands cupping my breasts. She’d run, a typical Emily reaction. Drive far, drive fast and think about what’s bothering you.

She never made it home. More, she’d never really had the chance to cool down.

After the funeral, Evan and I had come back to this bench, and I’d told him it was over. Over before it had even really begun. I told him it was for the best. That I needed space.

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