The Day Our Promise Breaks

The moment Evelyn spoke, her eyes brimmed with tears.

She didn't want to say goodbye.

But she knew, deep down, there was nowhere left for her and Brooks to go. Carrying Charles's child had driven a wedge between her and Chloe that nothing could mend not this time.

And in the end, Brooks would have to choose: her or Chloe.

Brooks had always been good to her-too good. She already felt she owed him more than she could ever repay. She couldn't bring herself to force his hand, to make him choose. So, Evelyn made the choice for both of them and ended it.

Brooks sat in his car, gripping his phone in silence.

He couldn't find the words to ask her to stay. "Just give me a little more time❞— he'd wanted to say it, but it was just an excuse, a way to postpone letting go. But to say yes to breaking up? The word "okay" sat heavy on his tongue, refusing to come out.

He reached for the pack of cigarettes in the glove box and tapped one free. He wasn't a smoker-not really. Only when he was at the edge, when his nerves were frayed raw, would he light one.

On the other end of the line, Evelyn heard the flick of his lighter. Even though they weren't together, she could feel just how much it hurt him.

Neither hung up.

After what felt like forever, Brooks finally spoke, his voice rough and low. "Okay."

more shock and his mother could have a stroke-she might even lose the ability to care for herself. With her pride, that would be a fate worse than death. Even if it meant

this was

matter what happens, if you ever need me,

was his promise. Even if they couldn't be together, he would never walk away. He'd be her safety net, quietly supporting her from the sidelines. Whenever

...

The call ended.

one who hung

the garden, her

the pain twist

just a backup-she'd held him close,

for another man, Charles felt the sting deep in

walked over, his

wiped away her tears with his thumb. Fighting down the jealousy bubbling inside, he said softly Eve,

child. Does it really matter if I'm okay

his hand away, her tone

again and again, that she shouldn't keep

that if she didn't, her

don't talk like that. Our daughter would be sad

beside her, gaze lingering on her belly. He wanted to reach out, to comfort both her and the baby, but his hand froze midair. She didn't want him touching her-in fact, she

...