Page 86 of When Fate Breaks
She blows a breath out of her nose, firmly meeting my eyes. “Are you drinking? Do you drink? Still? After…”
My spine steels, my lips pressing into a firm line. Evangeline’s eyes are filled with nothing but concern; I try to look deeper into them, hunting for the hint of judgment, but there’s none to be found. I let out a sigh, placing my hand on top of hers on my wrist. I look from where our hands join back to her expectant face. “Only when I don’t feel like I have to.”
“Do you feel like you have to right now?” she breathes. “Am I making you?”
Not today, I think but don’t vocalize.
“No,” I confirm. “I’m fine.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, Evangeline. Come on.”
I see the bartender eyeing us as we make our way back to him. “I’ll have what the lady’s having,” I let him know.
“Sounds good,” he replies, clearly disappointed to be doing business with me rather than Evangeline.
“Wanna go find us a table?” I ask her. “I’ll grab the drinks.” She quickly nods okay and starts to weave her way through the bar to find us some seats.
“Wanna keep the tab open?” the man asks me. I turn my head to see that Evangeline has found a table and is already sitting down, her head bobbing and shoulders swaying as she watches the people dancing on the dance floor with a huge smile on her face.
“Yeah,” I grin, “better go ahead.”
I take the two large plastic cups of beer from the bartender and make my way over to Evangeline. She barely notices me as I set them and my wallet down and join her at the table. “Oh!” she jumps once she catches me out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks,” she says, picking up the beer and smiling as she takes a sip like it’s Christmas and this is the first gift she’s opening. I don’t recognize the country song currently playing, but Evangeline clearly does, pushing off the bar stool and swaying on her feet, one hand holding her beer and the other snapping along to the melody.
I feel a smile spread wide across my face as I watch her, taking in this rare moment since I’ve been here where she seems exactly like I remember her. Working hard and stressing through the day but playing harder and completely letting loose in the afternoon. I internally pray that she’s allowed the latter half of her personality to shine through over the years we’ve been apart just as much as the former; though I somehow know deep in my chest that my hope is most likely in vain. It doesn't occur to me how long I must have been staring at her before Evangeline turns to look at me, her smile faltering momentarily.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Having fun?”
“So much fun,” she beams, looking back out at the dance floor and taking a drink of her beer. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I went out.”
I feel myself wince. I don’t know what breaks my heart more: the fact that Evangeline just confirmed my fear that she’s let her free spirit diminish more than I already thought or that she considers having a beer in a plastic cup at a one-star makeshift convention center bar to begoing out.
“I don’t even know the last time I danced,” she adds, shaking her head. As if on cue, the song changes and her eyes go wide, her beer halfway to her lips. I swear, nearly every one of the roughly thirty people crammed into the small bar let out a gasp or cheer as Brooks & Dunn’sNeon Moonstarts playing, at least half of them immediately dragging a partner with them onto the dance floor. I see Evangeline’s lips pull up at the side, something like longing twinkling deep within her golden brown eyes.
I make a split decision, grabbing her beer from her hands and setting it down on the table along with mine. “What are you doing?” she questions.
“Let’s change that,” I say.
“Change what?”
I step in front of her, holding out my hand. “You not knowing the last time you danced.”
Evangeline’s mouth falls open, her brows pulling together. For about one full second, I think she might argue with me, but then her conflicted expression melts into a smile.
“Really?” she asks.
“No, it was a joke. Go dance by yourself, loser,” I deadpan, my hand still held out to her.
“Shut up,” she laughs, grabbing my hand and yanking me towards the small crowd of people dancing. “I gave you your chance. There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.”
“Yes ma’am,” I nod with a smirk.
I wouldn’t dream of it.
My hand moves to Evangeline’s waist and, once the heat of my palm settles against her hip, I swear I see her shiver. She raises her hands, but seems to hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do with them. She ultimately rests them both on my shoulders, flashing me a small smile as if waiting for my cue.
