My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 35 Behind The Facade

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 if ready to leave, yet there was no suitcase in sight.

Was he here to say goodbye? The thought set off alarm bells in my mind. He better not try to put on a show of saying farewell and wishing me well, because I wouldn't stand for it.

"Why are you here, Jacob? To say goodbye or to ask for a favour, like keeping everything between us a secret for a lifetime? I don't see any other reason for you to be here, and I'm not interested in either. So you should leave, or else—"

"I know I screwed up," he interrupted, his sigh heavy with regret, each word carrying the weight of it, "I'm sorry, Evelyn. Really sorry."

Now leave," I said, making an attempt to swing the door

please let

to

it," This time, as I aimed to close the door, he stepped inside, and in that

He was too close...

you're doing?" My gaze remained averted, unable to meet

cheek, his voice heavy with guilt, and his gaze wavering, "I shouldn't have said those things to you. It was a loss of control. I felt it was

are you even talking about? Last time I checked, I was there to support you, and you decided to lash out at me for absolutely no reason," frustration tinted my words as I

he admitted, drawing me in even closer. "I'm fucked up, and I guess I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want you to witness the moments when I'm weak and questioning my worth. I only wanted you to see the whitewashed version of me, the one that's strong and confident, never falls weak... and in the process, I ended up hurting you. I'm sorry. Please, don't stay mad at me. I feel like I am dying

eyes appeared on the brink of tears, and that vulnerability

had been restraining throughout his presence finally escaped, tracing down my

to

ties before I could

observed him inhale a shaky breath. "Yes. That's why I reacted the way

to accept those flaws, whether we're ready to stand by them. I'm not in search of perfection, not chasing a fairy tale, I never chased one. What I've always wished is... to be with you. Ever since I understood what it meant to want someone, it's always been you. How could you even think that

I was mistaken. I'm sorry for what I've done...I really am," he sighed, his voice quivering. "Remember that day at the beach when you asked me if it's

in, I pressed our foreheads together, exhaling

words hesitant, "My father's love for his addiction, my mother's love for him despite his abusive ways, even to her last day, which came far too soon because of him. My sister's love for me, marked on her back from saving me from my father's beatings until the day he met his untimely end in an accident. And then there's my own love for Chloe, which drove me to the brink. It's always been shadows for me, no light, no bright places. That's why... I'm scared of it. Remembering all of it hurts, because I want to

understand," I whispered, gently cradling his face before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, "I understand, and you don't have to talk about it if it hurts too much.

despite everything wrong. I've always held my expectations high, but life hasn't handed me what I wanted. Then I met Chloe, when I was just fifteen. It started with friendship and grew into something more. I was young, adjusting to my new parents who had thankfully adopted me and Jessica. We were trying to forget the traumas of the past. When Chloe offered comfort, it felt like all I needed. I thought I was finally making progress,

even know how I could comfort him. It pained me to even think he had gone

could heal all of his past wounds and mend him so right that none of those memories could

her approval for everything, from my clothes to my shoes, even the way I spoke. I believed that by complying, I

That fucking bitch....