Evelyn
I do not want to open the door— That's what I tried to convince myself as I struggled to remain in my place, battling my own inner turmoil.
Why was he here? He shouldn't be second-guessing himself given how composedly he had uttered those words, sharp as daggers, without a hint of hesitation. He had won that round—slipping away effortlessly.
"Evelyn?"
Damn! The timbre of his voice tugged at me, and I resented how much sway he held over me and I despised how much control he had over me.
Anger surged within me, and I wiped away my tears, determined to stand my ground. I got off the bed, determined not to let him affect me any longer.
Enough was enough.
I opened the door. "Why are you here? Want me to book a plane ticket for you?"
Instead of the quick response I had expected, he looked at me, his eyes taking in my tear-stained face and the evidence of my crying. His gaze softened.
For a fleeting moment, my anger wavered, but I clenched my fists, holding on to it.
He was dressed as
