Page 53 of A Match Made In Evan
“No, sweetheart,” I answer her through a throat thickened by empathetic tears, “but I chose you. I chose to raise you by myself. If…if thereisa choice to be made, you don’t have to make the same choice I did.”
“Really? You wouldn’t judge me if…”
“Not a chance.” Whatever frustration I was feeling has melted away and I pull her in for another hug. “I’ve got your back, Mimi. No matter what you choose to do. Every single option has its pros and cons. None of them are easy, and nobody but you can decide which choice is the right choice for you right now.”
“A-and if I kept it? If…if I had to leave Winchester and go back to a normal high school…you wouldn’t hate me for wasting all that money?”
“I wouldn’t ever hate you for anything. And it’s not a waste. Even if we pull you out of that school first thing Monday morning, you’ve still had six months of advanced drama classes and experience that you wouldn’t have had at your old school. That’s still worth it.”
She flings her arms around me for the umpteenth time today and buries her face in the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
I go to tell her that the only thing she should be sorry for is lying to me, but I can’t even bring myself to do that. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mimi. You’re growing up, and sometimes life stuff like this happens, even when you’re being careful.”
“…and if I wasn’t?”
I close my eyes and sigh. Eighteen-year-old me wasn’t always careful, either. “You’re only human.”
“You’re the best, Dad.” It’s not said with her usual cheek. It’s spoken softly and with so many levels of emotion that I want to cry. Maybe later, when I don’t have to be strong for her, I’ll let go.
“Just remember,” I tell her, trying to cheer us both up even though things are going to be strained until we know exactly what the next steps need to be, “when you’re receiving your first Logie or, better yet, your first Oscar,I’mthe first person you thank in that acceptance speech. None of this ‘I want to thank the Academy’ crap.”
Her laughter, however short and weak and watery it might be, is like music to my ears. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “but you love me.”
***
When Ev lets himself in in the early hours of the evening, he finds me and Mia pretty much exactly where he left us, only there’s a spread of takeaway Thai food on the coffee table and we’re watchingMean Girlstogether on the big screen TV I splurged on last Christmas.
There’s a longing in his gaze and I know it’s because he wants to bend down and kiss my lips. I wish that he could as well, but now doesn’t seem like the right moment to announce our relationship. Not with the stress of everything else going on.
Instead of giving in to temptation, he drops down on Mia’s other side and reaches for the container of Penang curry, picking up the clean fork we grabbed with him in mind. He gives Mia a little nudge and a warm smile before digging in to his meal, not at all bothered that we obviously ate an early dinner before he got home.
“So,” he says right as Kady is breaking up pieces of her crown on the screen, “I was thinking that maybe we should, uh, think about therapy, or something?”
“Why?” Mia asks, only for Ev to raise both his eyebrows.
“Really?” he asks, sounding mildly incredulous. “You’re not, like, completely traumatised by…everything?”
She gives me a look that asks ‘is he for real?’ before turning back to Ev. “I mean…not any more than you’d expect?” She reaches out and pats my knee. “Dad and I had a long, emotional talk about it all and we’re good. I’m good. I mean, I’m stillscared, but…I’m okay. As okay as I can be until I know one way or the other. So, yeah, maybe I’m in limbo? But…it’s okay.”
Ev chews on his mouthful of food, his eyebrows drawing together. He’s wearing his glasses again and, coupled with his serious expression, he looks sexy as fuck.
Focus, James.
“What about the sneaking around and the not telling the whole truth about where you were going? You don’t think we need to maybe talk to someone about why you did that?”
Mia sits up a little straighter, frowning to match Ev’s expression. “No offence, Evvy,” she says, and I brace myself for impact because any time a teenaged girl says ‘no offence’, shedefinitelymeans ‘takeallthe offence’, “but you’renotmy parent. You’re not even really my stepparent. You’re just faking it. You’rejustmy godfather and that’s…well, that’s just a title, isn’t it?”
Ev looks crushed. Then he turns his soulful dark eyes on me. “Are we just faking it, Jay?”
Oh boy, that’s a loaded question.
The answer should be easy. No. Nothing about my feelings are fake. Nothing about our relationship is fake. But the fact that we’ve kept it from Mia becauseIwas too scared to say anything earlier…
“No.” I can’t be that scared little boy anymore. And after everything I said to Mia about sneaking around, I can’t continue to be a hypocrite, either.
Maybe Ev’s right. Maybe we should get some counselling.
