Page 53 of Back to Square One

“Is that why you broke up with me?”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” It was clear to Rowan that being a burden was a deep-seated fear Evie had, and it made sense. She understood it. But still, this was the route she chose?

“You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“I know. It was the only way.”

Rowan sat with that for a moment before adding, “You never came to the hospital. I woke up looking for you.”

“I know.” And at that, Evie looked flattened. Crushed. “I wanted to, but…” She glanced up at Claire. She sighed and didn’t finish her sentence, instead repeating, “I didn’t want you to have to deal with…all of this.”

Rowan was pretty sure she could feel her heart breaking in her chest all over again. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. Determined. “Well, that really wasn’t your decision to make, was it?” She turned her gaze to Stevie. “I have to get out of here. Can I use your truck?”

“Of course.” Stevie fished her keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Rowan, who didn’t look at Evie—or anybody—again as she crossed the room and headed upstairs. It took her all of six minutes to throw all her stuff into her bag and haul it down and out the front door. Nobody had moved, like Evie’s story had turned them all into statues.

Rowan tossed her crap into Stevie’s truck, then hopped into the driver’s seat and the engine roared to life. Finally, Stevie came jogging out the front door and up to the passenger side of the truck. Rowan powered down the window but didn’t look at her.

“Hey,” Stevie said, looking around the interior of the truck as if the words she wanted to say were hiding in there somewhere.

Rowan didn’t say anything.

“You okay to drive?” Stevie asked, her voice soft and kind. Worried.

Rowan nodded, then swallowed. She was barely holding it together, but she couldn’t tell Stevie that or she’d never let her leave. And right now? That’s all she needed: to get the fuck out of there.

“You sure?”

Another nod.

“You heading home?” Stevie knew her so well.

A third nod.

“Okay. Don’t speed. Pull over if you need to. Text me when you get there.”

“ ’Kay.” The one syllable was all she could manage without her voice cracking.

“Hey.” Stevie waited until Rowan turned to look at her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Rowan didn’t respond, and when Stevie stepped back, she powered the window up, plugged in her phone, and chose her own address as her destination.

All she wanted was to go home.

The only living being Rowan wanted around her for the next few days was Kevin.

She’d arrived home, much to her mother’s surprise, pulling into the driveway in Stevie’s truck, but with no Stevie.

“What’s going on?” she’d asked immediately, meeting Rowan at the driver’s door.

“Nothing,” Rowan said as she slid to the ground—God, Stevie’s truck was high. She went around to the other side and pulled her stuff out, then headed into her house, leaving her bewildered mother standing in the driveway.

Not a person to be put off so easily, her mom had followed her in, clearly worried. “Why are you home early? Why are you driving Stevie’s truck? And where is she? Did she leave you on your own?” She pulled her phone out and began scrolling until Rowan closed her hand over her mom’s.

“Mom. It’s fine. I just need some time. Okay? Can you give me that?”

Her mother held her gaze, worry clearly etched on her face. Her eyes softened. “I’ll make us some lunch.”

Rowan had tightened her grip. “No. Mom. I love you and I so, so appreciate all your help. But I need some time to myself. All right? Please.”