Lahat ng Kabanata ng I Stopped Asking Him for Anything: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

On my birthday, Lucas handed me the flowers and the necklace.Exactly as promised.The plastic petals had been crushed in transit. I straightened them while he watched.Later, in the back of a cab, he asked, “You don't think I cheaped out?”The upholstery smelled of old cigarettes. He had been breathing through his mouth since we'd climbed in.I rolled down the window. Cool air moved over my face.“No. I found a vase for the flowers. They look pretty on my desk with the lamp on.”That part was true.He glanced at me. “I thought you might be upset.”“It's my birthday. I'd rather enjoy it.”He took my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles, studying me as if the answer were written somewhere on my skin.I knew he didn't believe me. The truth was too simple for him.I used to like these ordinary evenings with him. I hadn't needed a chauffeur or an expensive restaurant.But I'd heard him laughing with his friends. Sitting beside him now couldn't make me forget that.The cab stopped o

Back at my apartment, Lucas nudged my slippers toward my feet.He hung up my bag, put a glass of water on the table, then went into the bathroom to get the shower running. The hot water took forever in that building. He knew exactly how far to turn the tap.He had learned all my little inconveniences. When I came home exhausted, he washed my delicates in the sink and hung them over the shower rail.When the heater broke, he let me tuck my frozen feet against his stomach. Two days later, he had a new unit installed.“I bought it for me,” he'd told Connor. “You try sleeping in a freezer.”I stood in the bathroom doorway, holding a towel. I would miss being cared for like that. It still didn't make it acceptable for him to laugh about me with his friends.The apartment was too small for a bigger bed. He'd measured once, then shoved the tape into a drawer. Paying for another apartment would have spoiled the experiment, so we learned to sleep pressed together.That night, he curled around m

By the time I reached the service corridor, sweat had soaked my shirt.I tried to get to the staff room. There was a chair there. My bag. If I could sit down, I could work out what to do.Then the floor tilted.When I opened my eyes, a nurse was fastening a cuff around my arm.“You're at the hospital, Evie. You collapsed at work.”A doctor explained that there was internal bleeding. They were preparing an operating room. Someone asked for my insurance information; someone else asked whom they should call.I'd spent my accessible savings on the deposit for my room in London and the arrangements to get there.I knew they would treat me. I also knew the bill would come.I reached for my phone.Lucas answered over music.“I'm at the hospital,” I told him. “I need an operation. Can you lend me five thousand? I'll pay you back. I just—”The music grew quieter. I thought he was going somewhere he could hear me.Then he sighed.“Evie. You're not seriously doing this.”“Doing what?”“Pretending

Lucas POVThe hospital wouldn't tell me anything.I gave the receptionist Evie's name, then mine, then explained that I was her boyfriend.“If she hasn't authorized us to speak with you, I can't discuss her care.”I almost reached for my wallet. The impulse was so automatic that my hand actually moved.Then I stopped.There was no amount I could offer that would make me the person she'd needed that night.At the club, the floor manager remembered her immediately.“Good worker. Always picked up the shifts nobody wanted.”“Was she very ill?”He looked at me for a long moment.“She left here in an ambulance.”I gripped the edge of his desk.“Did she ask anyone to call me?”“I don't know. I was trying to keep the corridor clear for the paramedics.”On my phone, the photographs from Charlotte's boat were still in the same message thread as Evie's request for help.Five thousand dollars.I'd spent more than that without knowing the final total.But it hadn't been the amount. That was what ma

Lucas POVI found her name on a university research page.A photograph showed Evie standing beside three other students outside a brick building. She wore the green sweater I'd always thought was too thin.She was smiling at somebody beyond the camera.My assistant asked whether I wanted travel arrangements.The old answer was already in my mouth.Instead I said, “No.”Her email address was listed for research inquiries. Mine wasn't one. I stared at it for a long time before writing a single message, brief enough that she could read it without giving me an evening.I know you didn't invite me to contact you. I won't come to your home or your university. I owe you an apology, and I'd like to offer it if you're willing to hear it. If you aren't, I will leave you alone.I sent it before I could add anything designed to make her feel sorry for me.She didn't reply that day.Or the next.I went to work. I answered my mother's questions about Charlotte. I told her the truth when she asked wh