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."

heard you. Now leave," I said, making an attempt to swing the door shut. But

please let me

difficult to refuse

to catch it," This time, as I aimed to close the door, he stepped inside, and in that instant, I relinquished half my resolve. He secured the door, sliding an arm around

He was too close...

what do you think you're doing?" My gaze remained averted, unable to meet his eyes due to a

murmured, his forehead gently touching mine. He trailed his nose along my 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 best for

there to support you, and you decided to lash out at me for absolutely no reason," frustration tinted my words as I placed my hands between us, attempting to push against his chest, "Anyway, I don't want to talk right now. I'm exhausted

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

eyes appeared on the brink of tears, and that vulnerability triggered my own suppressed

been restraining throughout his presence finally escaped, tracing down my cheeks, "W-Why? Why did you

lead you to push me away, and

before I could

and I observed him inhale a shaky breath. "Yes. That's why I

his face, tracing his jawline gently, "What really counts is whether we're willing 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

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 relationships or love that

in, I pressed our foreheads together, exhaling softly,

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

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

because I never wanted to. But with you, I want to break free from that. You bring out the best in me, and being with you feels so right 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

comfort him. It pained me to even think

I wished I could heal all of his past wounds and mend him so right that none of

her, and I foolishly indulged that sick desire. I spent years seeking her approval for everything, from my clothes to my shoes, even the way I spoke. I believed that by complying, I could keep her with me. Eventually, it became

That fucking bitch....