Page 73 of A Merry Irish Christmas
‘Yeah, I think so.’ He frowned, looking confused. ‘We kind of have to, you know? We’re going to be working together for the foreseeable future.’
‘Yeah.’ How could she have forgotten? Olivia would still be Mary Jane to his Spidey. She’d be in his life, no matter what happened between them.
‘It’ll be super awkward if we don’t clear the air before shooting starts again. I’m seeing her tomorrow when I get home.’
Did that mean they were getting back together? But just as she was trying to come up with a way of asking without sounding needy and demanding, the doorbell rang.
‘That’ll be your car.’
‘Shit!’ Evan stood, looking panicked. ‘He’s early. I could make him wait?’
Mary shook her head. ‘No need for that. You should go.’
He nodded and she followed him out to the hall, where his bags stood by the door.
‘Well, thanks for everything,’ he said, opening his arms for a hug. He seemed more relaxed again now that he was going. What did that mean? Was it relief?
‘Thankyou,’ she said, stepping into his embrace.
‘Thanks for the bread-making lesson, and all the Chocolate Kimberleys and the make-out sessions.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘I’m glad I let you stay.’
‘Me too. Thanks for coping with my Greg meltdown and not freaking out. And for all the baseball tuition – especially for that.’
He grinned. ‘Yeah, that was fun.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘And I’ll see you soon, yeah? New Year’s Eve?’
‘Oh! Yes,’ she said, brightening.
‘Unless you already have plans.’
‘No, I’ll be there. Definitely.’
‘Call me when you’re back in New York.’ He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and then he was gone.
Mary returned to her room and resumed her packing, trying to cling to the promise of that kiss. But once she was alone, her confidence ebbed away and doubts started to creep in. She couldn’t shake the image of Olivia standing in Evan’s apartment. It had been a wake-up call, and put the time she’d spent with him into perspective. Olivia had shared his life for two years, she had a key to his home, while Mary was someone he’d known for a few measly days. He’d probably have forgotten her by the time his plane touched down at JFK.
Which was fine, she told herself, trying to be rational and grown-up about it, and to quell the raging jealousy that burned inher gut. She was just disappointed because she’d thought it was the start of something new and exciting. But the more time that passed since Evan had left, the more distant and unreal it all seemed – and the more convinced she became that what they’d had was just a holiday fling, nothing more – fun while it lasted, but now it was over and they’d both go back to their real lives.
There was something else niggling at the back of her mind as she folded clothes and arranged them neatly in her suitcase. Then it hit her: she couldn’t call Evan. They’d never exchanged numbers. She flopped onto the bed, stunned, the wind knocked out of her. What an idiot! But there had never been any reason to. They’d been in the house together the whole time.
She could get his number from her mother, of course, and he could get hers. But what if he didn’t want to? What if he hadn’t given it to her on purpose because he didn’t want her to contact him? She heaved an exhausted sigh. She was probably being paranoid and overthinking this. It hadn’t occurred to her that they didn’t have each other’s phone numbers and it was probably the same for him.
She couldn’t help holding on to a last vestige of hope. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she couldn’t let go of the way he’d hugged her so tightly before he left, how casually he’d said he’d see her again soon. Surely he wouldn’t have done that if he was planning to get back with Olivia.
She was still clinging to that hope the next morning as she made her way to Dublin on the train, and all through the flight to New York. Until she switched on her phone again as she stood by the luggage carousel at JFK and she was brought back down to earth with a thud.
25
Mary heaved a weary sigh as she let herself into her apartment. She’d never felt so deflated to be home. Her eyes drifted to the little Christmas tree she’d put up by the window, surprised to see there was one gift-wrapped present under it still unopened. Curious, she picked it up and read the tag. It was to Evan from her mother – so why had she left it here instead of in his apartment? She’d ask her mother about it when she called her tomorrow, she decided, tossing it back under the tree.
After a long hot shower, she changed into cosy sweats and made herself a cup of cocoa. She thought about dismantling the tree, but she didn’t have the energy and decided to leave it up for another couple of days. It cheered the place up. She took her cocoa to the couch, curling up with her legs under her.
The taxi ride home from JFK had been depressing. Once she’d switched on Wi-Fi on her phone, she’d been bombarded with the latest gossip about Olivia and Evan. Thanks to all the websites that so diligently kept her updated on Evan-related news, she knew they were already back together. It was all over social media. WhileMary had been in the air, Olivia had posted a cryptic message about forgiveness on Instagram that had sent theSpider-Manfandom into a frenzy of speculation. ‘Evania’ – the ridiculous portmanteau name the media had given the couple – was trending on X. Later, when Olivia was chased along the street by a journalist quizzing her about the relationship, she’d said: ‘We’re fine. We’re going to be okay,’ before diving into a car and escaping into the traffic.
A gossip site said that Evan had flown home for a ‘tearful reunion’ with his errant girlfriend, and fans gushed about the couple being back together, cooing that they were ‘made for each other’ and posting photos of them together peppered with heart emojis. Adam Wright’s wife had taken him back too. She apparently believed her husband’s infidelity was a temporary lapse, and was quoted as saying that she wished Evan and Olivia healing and forgiveness, and she hoped all four parties could put it behind them and move on.
So that was that. Evan hadn’t meant it when he’d said he’d see her again soon. That had just been his attempt at making their parting less awkward, and not giving her his phone number had most likely been deliberate. He’d be back in his beautiful Upper East Side apartment by now – probably in bed with Olivia – while she was here in her Lower East Side walk-up, and ne’er the twain would meet, just as she’d predicted.
If only she hadn’t liked Evan so much. She knew that what they’d had was just a blip, but it was hard to accept because he was so exactly right for her. She’d already been envisioning them hanging out together here in New York – having brunch with his friends, taking that helicopter trip he’d given her, sleeping in the big bed in his beautiful apartment, taking long Sunday walks in Central Park… She’d imagined how proud she’d be to introduce him to her friends – not because he was famous, but because he was friendly and funny and sweet, and because they were perfect for each other.
