My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 175 I'm Leaving

Evelyn

Chase dropped me off with a quick goodbye hug, and I stepped into the house, instantly engulfed by its familiar darkness. As expected, all the lights were off. That was Dad and Clara's nightly ritual, plunging the house into shadow as if setting the stage for a horror movie. When I'd teased them about it, they only laughed, claiming it was perfectly normal to have a vampiric darkness in your house at night.

But it never felt normal to me. Lately, though, I hadn't bothered to complain. The darkness had become my refuge, a place where I could vanish, and disappear from the weight of the world. It was easier to exist in shadows when you didn't want to be seen.

I kicked off my shoes and started toward the stairs, already feeling the exhaustion seeping into my bones. But then, out of nowhere, the thought popped into my mind: wine.

It had always helped. Especially on nights like this, when my mind was spinning with questions, doubts, and that gnawing anxiety that had been haunting me since Cameron's words. His voice echoed in my head, making me rethink everything. Fear takes away the most precious things in life.

Was I afraid? Had I become that person-the one too scared to love, to take risks? It didn't feel like me. I was never the one to back down. Then how had fear found its way in?

Love didn't make people scared. At least, it wasn't supposed to.

But heartbreaks... heartbreaks did.

"Turns out it's not that easy to figure out the root of fear," I muttered bitterly, heading straight for the kitchen. Wine was my only plan for the night-enough to numb my thoughts, maybe even enough to pass out.

But the moment I reached the threshold of the kitchen, everything came to a screeching halt. My heart skipped a beat, my thoughts scattering like broken glass.

The kitchen wasn't as dark as I'd expected. The open window let in a flood of moonlight, casting a silver glow across the countertops. But that wasn't what stopped me in my tracks. What froze me was the sight of Jacob Adriano leaning casually against the counter, shirtless as always. His bare skin gleamed under the moonlight, every line of his muscles highlighted in the soft glow. A glass of wine hung lazily from his fingers, and next to him, was the bottle I'd been planning to raid.

Of course, he'd beaten me to it.

did he already finish

not on nights like this when I just wanted to shut my

than usual lately? The truth was, I hadn't been paying close attention. Ever since Jacob had come back to America, all I'd done was avoid him like the plague. I thought I'd been successful-until last night. Turns out, I'd been lying to myself, clinging to the delusion that

me out of my trance. That's when it hit me I'd been standing there, staring at him

is wrong

gaze was unmistakable, and I knew he'd seen me looking. Shit. "I've had some," Jacob replied, his tone calm, almost too composed. It wasn't his usual playful or amused self. "But there's still

"Uhm, sure."

Damn it.

left me unraveling. Jacob grabbed another glass from the cabinet, pouring wine into it, but didn't refill his own. When he handed it to me, our fingers brushed. That brief contact sent a shiver racing up my arm, an electrifying spark that made my breath catch in my

must've felt it too-there was no way he couldn't. But instead of pulling away, he held my gaze, steady and intense. "Here," he said softly, the weight of

gripping it a little

if the stem

How I'd promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. But Jacob was standing there, shirtless, inches away, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted

muttered, taking a sip of the wine. The taste was sharp on my

day?" he asked, his voice low, almost conversational, but there was an undercurrent

heat radiating off him. "You could say it was nice." I didn't even know how I

something more. But what was there to say? That I couldn't stop thinking about him? That last night had torn open wounds I wasn't ready to deal with. That I was

chuckle, trying to shake off the tension.

eyes darkened, as if he could see right through my attempt to brush it off. "Yeah," he said quietly,

moon, while I couldn't take my eyes off him. Jacob. My moon. A constellation of mistakes and scars that marred his beauty, yet, to me, he would always remain as breathtaking as before.

from the weight of the world. But then, as if determined to shatter that peace,

for Italy

words crashed into me like a cold wave, and I froze, every muscle in my body tensing as if bracing for impact. My heart pounded against my chest, my grip on the wine glass tightening until I thought it might