Page 52 of #Awestruck

“I know. Trust me, I get it. He’s beyond gorgeous. And it’s not like he was overly religious or something. Just committed to his choice. It didn’t happen, and then things ended.”

“Why didn’t it work out?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound overeager.

“He never really opened up to me. We had fun, but I never felt like I knew the real Evan Dawson. There was no ... I don’t know, intimacy between us. Since then I’ve come to realize that a lot of people mistake physical intimacy for the real thing, but that emotional connection you make, when it’s like his soul is communicating with yours, that’s what makes a relationship work. It’s what I have with my husband, Gabriel. If Evan and I had slept together, it would have just delayed the inevitable. Masked over our other problems, you know?”

“Did you ever think he might be gay? Or asexual?” Nia asked, and I was grateful for it because that angle had completely slipped my mind.

“You’d have to ask him, but I never thought he was secretly gay. And he definitely didn’t seem asexual to me. But obviously I can’t know for sure. You’d have to ask him.”

It suddenly became desperately important to me to know if Evan had liked her for herself or if he’d used her the way he was using me. “Was there a possibility that he dated you to make himself look good? Maybe to impress Chester Walton for contract negotiations?”

She pursed her lips. “No, I never felt that way. I genuinely liked him, and he liked me.”

Nia asked Whitley about a mutual acquaintance, and while they chatted, I processed the information I’d just been given. I had honestly hoped that this conversation would go in a completely different direction. That Whitley would tell us that of course they’d slept together and that Evan was a huge lying liar who constantly lied out of his lying mouth, even if I logically knew nothing would be that easy. What if she had ulterior motives? Maybe she didn’t want her husband to know? Because any man would question himself if that’s who he had to compare himself to.

You’re reaching.

I was taking things to really far-out conclusions. I had thought I’d be more open-minded than I was currently being. Even if Whitley was covering for Evan, it didn’t matter. This ruled her out as someone who would go on our show and say she’d hooked up with him.

The conversation lasted for another fifteen minutes or so, until Whitley’s little boy started to cry upstairs. “I need to feed and change him.” She stood and walked us to the front door. “Nia, it was fantastic to see you again, and, Ashton, so nice to meet you.”

We thanked her, said our goodbyes, and walked back to our cars.

“Do you know how jealous you looked in there?” Nia asked.

“Take it back,” I told her. I wasn’t jealous. At all. Even a little. I was totally fine. And I had not been comparing my every flaw against Whitley’s every perfection the entire conversation.

“I’m sorry for saying you’re jealous just because you are.” Nia paused and winced, holding on to her stomach.

“Are you sick?” I asked.

“Nope. Just a little pregnant.”

“Nia!” I hugged her tightly. I could see how happy she was, and I was thrilled for her. “That is so fantastic!”

“Thanks. We’ve been trying for a really long time, and we haven’t really told people yet because we don’t want to jinx it.”

She got teary-eyed, and I decided to cheer her up. “Better you than me. Whenever I see a cute baby, I always think, ‘Man, I really love sleeping through the night.’”

It worked, and Nia laughed, clearing up her hormonal tears. It had been my best tactic with Aubrey during her pregnancies, too.

Speaking of the task-driving devil, I had a text on my phone from my sister.

I didn’t have many more phone calls to make, and I replied that I’d be by that night. “My sister needs me,” I explained to Nia. “I need to take off. But seriously, congratulations. That is really, really exciting.”

We hugged and then each drove off in our cars. When I came to my first stoplight, I found myself wondering what it would be like to be pregnant. To have a baby of my own.

Why was I picturing that baby with Evan’s blue eyes?

While I was working at Aubrey’s, Evan texted me.

I was, but he didn’t need to know that.

Strangely enough, so was I.

The next day I had to be at the children’s hospital at nine o’clock in order to “escort” Evan. Which I didn’t understand. I was pretty sure he could figure out the layout of a hospital map just as easily as I could.

When I got out of my car in the hospital parking lot, I realized I had severely underestimated how big of a deal this was. As a family, we typically only participated in the administrative side of the Jumping Jacks charity. There was a total media circus happening in the front of the hospital. There were news vans from every station, including one from ISEN, lining the streets. Tons of people, along with security to keep the fans away from the Jacks. Evan was already there, signing autographs and taking selfies with everyone who asked.

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