Evelyn
For a brief second, I truly thought Alexander might follow.
But he didn't come.
He just stood there, giving me one of those trademark irritated glares.
Maybe I was never meant to be the kind of girl who'd get under a man like Alexander Asimov's skin.
I shook those thoughts off .
I don't need any man to enjoy this beautiful evening.
The beach was glowing with the warm orange of the setting sun, the sky melting into soft shades of rose and tangerine. A light breeze tousled my hair, and people laughed and gathered in little circles, dancing, drinking, playing music.
And then I saw it.
A little row of drink stalls just off the edge of the party crowd.
I hesitated. Just for a second.
Then remembered the card Alexander had given me. "For necessities," he'd said.
Well, sanity felt like a necessity tonight.
I walked over, bought two small bottles of tequila, and made my way to a quieter corner of the beach. I sat on the cool sand, kicked off my sandals, and took a long sip straight from the bottle. The burn in my throat didn't even bother me.
In fact, it felt good.
Alexander
She wore that dress. The one I gave her for events where I'd be standing beside her. Not for her to flaunt around strangers at sunset.
I knew what she was doing. Another creative way to piss me off.
I returned to the room. Maybe I should nap. Not that I'd get real sleep tonight either just like every night lately. I'd probably end up staring at her while she slept, like a pathetic idiot with no self-control.
At some point, I did doze off.
I woke to my phone vibrating on the table. Dmitri.
My voice was hoarse. "Where are you?"
He hesitated. "Sir there's a situation. I think you should come. Now."
My chest tightened.
"What happened? Where's Evelyn?"
He didn't answer fast enough. I didn't wait. I grabbed my keys and stormed out of the hotel, heart pounding like I hadn't felt in years.
I reached the beach in minutes.
There she was . Dmitri standing awkwardly beside her, trying to hold her steady. I shoved his hand away instantly, instincts kicking in.
"What the hell happened?" I barked.
He pointed at the sand.
Four empty tequila bottles. One still in her hand.
And Evelyn,
She was giggling. Face flushed, eyes sparkling with mischief, barefoot in the sand, her dress slightly wrinkled, hair wild from the breeze.
She looked up at me, blinked slowly, and slurred, "Alexaaander youuu came too?"
She was drunk out of her mind.
I carried her in my arms, the warmth of her skin soaking through my shirt, her laughter bubbling into my ears. She was talking nonsense again, slurring her words.
I placed her gently in the passenger seat, fastened her belt tightly, and shut the door with a sigh. We were halfway back when she screamed at the top of her lungs, "I want strawberry ice cream!"
I slammed the brakes. "What?"
She was already clawing at the window like a five-year-old.
I got out, bought her one before the vendor could even greet me, shoved the money in his hand, and sped off before she could see the popcorn stand next to it.
She hummed the entire way, licking that stupid ice cream . I didn't speak. If I did, I might say something I'd regret.
By the time we reached the hotel, she had pink cream smeared near her lips and half her hair in a tangle. I carried her again. She didn't even protest, too busy finishing the last of her cone.
She was covered in sand, her dress sticking to her legs, feet dirty from walking on the beach. I carried her straight to the bathroom and set her down.
"Wash up."
She tried to stand but wobbled instantly. I moved to steady her, but she looked at me with those glassy eyes and pouted.
"You don't even want to help me? Do I repel you that much?"
I exhaled slowly. "No," I said. "That's not it."
I reached for a towel and started brushing sand off her arms. She wouldn't stay still. She kept fidgeting, spinning, laughing and then suddenly, click. The shower blasted cold water right over us both.
She shrieked, I muttered a curse, and now I was soaked shirt clinging to my skin, hair dripping, patience thread-thin.
But worse her dress. It stuck to her like a second skin, outlining everything. The curve of her waist. The slope of her back. The curve of her breast.
My jaw tensed.
I couldn't look at her.
This girl didn't even realize what she was doing to me.
"Stay still," I muttered,
I peeled the wet dress off her as quickly and gently as I could, eyes fixed firmly on the bathrobe in my hand. I wrapped it around her, secured it tight, then lifted her once more and carried her to bed.
She was already half-asleep, murmuring something I couldn't catch. I pulled the blanket over her.
"Sleep."
She didn't answer.
I was still wet, soaked to the bone. I peeled off my shirt, chest heaving with tension
I turned away from the bed, ready to head to the bathroom, when I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist.
Her grip wasn't firm at first but when I looked down, she pulled me closer and held her hands around my neck , almost hugging me. I didn't expect it. She had been on the verge of sleep. But now her eyes were open.
She whispered, eyes barely open, voice trembling "Do you hate me so much that you couldn't even come to the beach with me?"
I stopped breathing for a moment.
"I wanted to go with you," she continued with her slurry words "Not alone. Not with strangers. With you. I thought maybe we could be friends."
Her voice cracked at the last word.
Friends.
She wasn't even asking for love just the bare minimum of companionship. And I hadn't even given her that.
"I waited," she went on, "Waited for you to say yes. But you said you had meetings. You always have meetings."
"I was so excited , But you just brushed me off. "
" It's always like that. At college, at home, now here. It doesn't matter where I go. I always end up alone."
I didn't know what to say.
I wanted to tell her she was wrong. That she wasn't alone.
But the truth was I'd left her alone.
I had done exactly what she said. Avoided her. Ignored her invitations. Refused her kindness.
All because I was too afraid of what I might feel.
I reached out and gently brushed her damp hair away from her face. She flinched at first then relaxed when she realized it was me.
"I see . " I said quietly.
I'd seen her eyes dim a little when I passed her by. I saw her trying. Reaching out. And I shut the door every time.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel that way." I said.
Her lips moved again, but the words were barely audible.
And then silence.
She had finally fallen asleep, still holding me in her arms.
I didn't try to pull away this time.
I stayed like that, watching her breathe because she deserves at least this much warmth.
Wearing nothing but wet pants, skin damp and cold, stuck between desire and restraint, truth and silence, I sat still. Let her sleep.