It was dark. The streets of the city usually were this time of night, save for the few more populated areas where the lights from stores and apartments served as a faux sunlight. Tonight was unusually quiet. The eerie silence only served to deepen the unsettling feeling in your stomach.
What am I gonna do? She’s gone, how do I fix this?
You walked down the streets, wet from the rain. The streetlights were reflected in the road. Finding yourself in front of the park, you sighed, slipping your backpack off your shoulders and sitting down on one of the benches. It was cold, and you didn't have your jacket, but you couldn't find it in you to care. Evelyn was gone and it was all your fault and you had no idea how to get out of the hole you’d dug yourself into. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Winston’s name flash on the screen. Groaning, you answer.
“Yes?” you sighed internally. There was almost no reason in the world for him to be calling you at this hour-
“Evelyn wants to see you.”
It took you a minute to process.
“What do you mean?” he sighed. He sounded upset. That never happened. The only time you had ever even heard of him being upset was in the plane.
“She called for you. Hadn’t memorized your number, wanted me to tell you. Wants to see you tomorrow at 5. Be there. Please, she needs this,” you tried to respond, but the line went dead before you could.
–
Winston had offered to give you a ride. You accepted, of course. You had no other way of transportation, besides the bus. His face seemed sullen and tired.
“Are you ok?” he didn’t answer for a solid five minutes, the only sound filling the silence being the occasional whoosh of a car passing.
“She called for you. I can’t believe she called for you and not me,” you frowned. He was right. Why would Evelyn call for you and not her brother? It didn’t make sense. Unless-
“Here we are,” the car pulled into a rather large lot to a rather large prison. You had never seen or heard of this particular location, but you supposed it was due to it being so far out of town. You never really traveled out of town, unless you were with Evelyn.
Winston parked the car, far from the entrance, and you both got out. You debated whether or not to wear the necklace, but you decided against it. It would send the wrong message. Besides, she was angry with you, you doubted a necklace would change that. You and Winston were silent as you walked towards the prison doors. His breathing was shallow and ragged. You hated seeing him like this. He had always worried so much about Evelyn.
You tuned out the next few minutes, lost in your thoughts. Hoping you were wrong about why she wanted to see you so badly.
“You came,” you jumped slightly at her voice. Looking up at her through watering eyes, you nodded. Don't cry. Not now. Not in front of her.
She looked different. Less put together. Her hair was messier than usual, and the darkness around her eyes was more apparent. She looked miserable.
“I’m sorry, Evelyn, I-”
“Don’t,” she paused, looking at you, “don’t do that to me. It’s not your fault,” you were both silent for a second. Despite the circumstances, you were happy to see her again. You were happy to know she was safe.
“Why did you want to see me? I’m the one that got you into this, why wouldn't you want to see Winston instead?” you adjusted your posture in the uncomfortable wooden chair. Evelyn sighed, fogging up the glass separating the both of you and forcing you to realize how cold it was in the building.
“Because. You deserve every apology I have to give. You’re honestly lucky Winston chose not to get you arrested as well. You could have gotten in a world of trouble and it's all because I wasn't careful enough,” she sighed, giving you a sad look, " I'm sorry.”
“Evelyn, stop. You know damn well i’m the one who insisted on helping you-”
“You know damn well that I'm the one who was manipulating you into doing it for me,” you stared at her. She’s trying to make an excuse. Trying to take the blame off me. She didn’t-
“What?” She gave me a look I couldn't read. The kind she used to give me on those nights where I would linger for too long, or touch her face a certain way, or say something that was too-
“Nevermind. How’s Winston?” I huffed, folding my hands in my lap.
“Fine, but you would’ve known that if you had called for him instead of me,” there was a painfully long silence.
“I know. But I needed to see you.”
“How long will you be here?”
“Ask Winston, he probably knows. Nobody tells me anything anymore,” you found yourself feeling bad for her. Something in the pit of your stomach tried to lure you into helping her, aiding whatever evil escape plan she surely had brewing in her brilliant head, but you forced it down.
“Ok, I will. I’ll write to you, promise me you’ll write back,” you didn’t wait for a response, because you were so close to tears that you thought you might burst right there. You refused to cry in front of her, not again.
The moment you were out the front door, you leaned against the wall and broke down. The ground was wet from the rain, but you didn’t care. You hardly even noticed. I did the one thing she told me not to do, and now look where I'm at. Look where she’s at. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to her. If I had just obeyed and stopped caring as much as I did. This never would have happened-
A soft voice called your name. You wiped your face and looked up.
“Hey, Winston…” he held a hand out to you, and you took it, pulling yourself up with his help. He didn’t look as solemn as when you both had arrived.
“Did something happen?” you shook your head, trying to choke back sobs. He sighed, pulling his jacket off and holding it out to you. You stared at him.
“It’s cold. I don’t want you to catch something,” he smiled at you. There was something in his eyes, though. A look of remembrance. Of recognition.
As you pulled on his jacket over your already-wet blouse, you both began to walk back to the car. A wave of acceptance washed over you as Winston pulled out of the lot. You realized that this was just how it was going to be now.
It was better this way anyways. For everyone.
Ten years later.
Faint ringing….
You force your eyes open to grab your phone off your nightstand. It was Winston. Again. He called so often now.
“Yes?” you said as you answered the phone. You decided not to scold him for the time. He probably just needed someone to talk to. Maybe he had a rough day.
“She’s out today. Did you forget?” you jumped out of bed and ran to your calendar. October 24th 1972. He’s right.
“Yeah, I guess I didn't realize. Where are you right now?” you checked the analog clock hanging above your bed. 4:56am. You’d have to be up for work soon anyways.
“On my way to your place. I figured you’d want to come with me.”
He was wrong.
You didn’t want to come.
To be honest, you weren’t sure you wanted to acknowledge the matter at all.
“Uhm, i actually had an appointment this morning, sorry Winnie,” there was a pause. You could tell he was disappointed, but you just couldn’t bear to see Evelyn right now.
The truth was, you two hadn’t spoken for almost 4 years. One day she just stopped responding to your letters, and eventually you stopped writing them. Of course, you told Winston that you still were. He would worry otherwise. He always worried about Evelyn. It seems like that's all he ever did now.
“Oh. yeah alright, i’ll come by later then?” your heart broke as he spoke. You hated when he got like this.
“Yeah, sure. Does five work?”
“I’ll be there. Well, I've got to go, good luck!” the line went dead. You realized after a moment that he meant you good luck for your made up appointment, but you knew it had a double meaning.
Good luck. You have 12 hours to prepare, and then you have to face her again and act like you’ve spoken in the last four years.
–
A harsh knock at the door snapped you out of your haze. You blinked, looking to the front hall. Must be Winston. You practically fell out of bed, groggily trudging to the door. You were a mess. Having stressed all day over what you were gonna do, you ended up not actually preparing for anything. The house was clean enough. It’s not like Winston would mind, he understands more than anyone. Who you’re worried about is Evelyn. You refuse to be a mess for her. You refuse to let her see that she got to you.
There was another knock on the door right before you reached it. As it opened, you saw Winston standing on the front porch, barely sheltered from the rain.
“Ready to go?” you nodded, tiredly, and grabbed your jacket from the hook on the door. As you walked to the car with rain pelting your back, you regretted ever agreeing to see Evelyn in the first place.
The drive was long. It felt that way anyways. Silent too. You hated drives like that, especially with Winston. Something always felt off when he was quiet like this. It wasn’t like him.
It seemed as though you and Winston sat in silence for a million years before you reached the house.
“Here we are,” you looked out the window. You had never been to Winston's house before, the one he actually lived in, at least. Which was strange considering you had known him, as more than a boss anyways, for almost 12 years now. It was smaller than you had expected.
Homey.
“It’s… nice,” he chuckled, pulling the key out of the car.
“One of many. I started staying here a few years back. It just felt… wrong staying in the old one with Evelyn gone. It was too empty for just me-” he stopped himself, “sorry, rambling,” you gave him a sad smile as you both got out of the car. Behind the clear difference in energy, he’s a lot more like his sister than either of them let on.
As you both began to walk towards the front door, a sudden pit grew in your stomach. What if this isn’t the right thing to do? What if I make things worse? What if-
What if she doesn’t want to see me.
“Are you ok?” you gave Winston a smile and a nod, trying to ignore your sudden urge to throw up. He opened the door for you, and cautiously you stepped inside. You were right, it was cozy. A lot more lived in than most of the other residences of the Deavor's you had visited. It felt like an actual home.
“Evelyn!” Winston called up the stairs in the foyer. There was a loud crash, followed by the creak of a door opening.
“Coming Winston!” you and Winston both stood by the front door.
You nearly passed out when Evelyn entered your view. She stopped at the top of the stairs, her grip strong on the railing, and stared at you. You couldn’t read her. You never could. After a few seconds of horrible silence, she practically ran down the stairs and trapped you in a tight embrace. You were stunned. After a moment, though, you wrapped your arms around her, returning her unusual display of compassion.
“I missed you,” she mumbled into your shoulder, and from the way her voice wavered, you could tell she was crying.
“I missed you too,” it was solemn. This wasn’t the happy reunition you had hoped it would be. It was painfully sad.
Evelyn pulled away, only for a moment, before leaning forward and meeting her lips with yours.
The kiss was different. Different from all the others she had given you. This one meant more. It meant that she missed you. It meant she was thinking about you. It meant she didn’t hate you and that maybe you still had a chance to fix this trainwreck of a relationship you had.
It meant that maybe, in some way, she had changed her mind about everything.
Your face was flushed by the time she pulled away, but after a second you noticed that hers was too. Try as you might, you still couldn’t tell what she was feeling. Maybe you never would. Maybe she’d learn how to tell you.
“I’ll go get dinner started,” you jumped, having forgotten that Winston was still in the room. He had a cheesy grin on his face. It reminded you of a time before any of this happened. As he left the room, you returned your gaze to Evelyn.
“Hey,” you said softly. She smiled, resting her arms around your shoulders.
“Hey,” she replied as she leaned in and kissed you again. It was softer this time. More calculated. It felt like her.
–
After dinner, you had all decided to sit on the couch and have a drink. It was only then, as Evelyn sat crisscrossed on the couch, that you noticed the monitor on her ankle.
“Evelyn-” you tried to cut into the conversation but her and Winston were too distracted to notice.
Why wouldn’t either of them have mentioned it? It’s probably nothing.
After a minute of trying to ignore it though, you realized you just couldn’t.
“Evelyn!” They both stopped talking. Drink in hand, you motioned to her ankle. She stared at you for a second before realizing what you were referring to.
“House arrest, the best Winston could do to get me out of prison,” you nodded, taking another sip of your drink.
“How come neither of you mentioned that?” Evelyn scoffed, setting her drink down on the coffee table. Maybe you had said the wrong thing. Oops.
“Because it didn’t exactly seem necessary, is that ok with you?”
“I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive, I was just asking,” she gave you a look, and you decided not to read into it. You were too tired to deal with this.
She hasn’t changed. She’s still just as irritable.
“How long?” she seemed to relent at your question, signing and leaning back on the couch.
“Couple years,” you rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath,
“Like, how many?”
“Six,” Winston interrupted, setting his drink down and standing up, “I'm gonna head to bed, it’s getting late,” you glanced up at the clock. 12:45am. He left the room without another word. You looked up at Evelyn, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact.
“Six years?” she nodded, running her fingers over her palm.
“Yeah, it sucks,” you could hear the hurt in her voice, and when she finally did look at you, there were tears running down her face. You frowned, standing up and moving to the couch next to her.
“It’s gonna be ok,” she leaned into you, grabbing your hands in hers.
“Not for a long time. I lost everything. My job, all my work, i’m constantly under supervision, Winston literally has to leave work to check on me,” you nodded, squeezing her hands.
“There’s nothing anyone can do,” it was silent for a moment. There seemed to be a lot of that going around today.
“I know.”
After a few minutes, she stood up. Before she left the room, she placed her palms on either side of your face and kissed your forehead.
“I love you,” before you could say anything, she began to walk out of the room and up the stairs.
She had changed.
She changed her mind.
Even if only for you. Even if only for just tonight. Something changed.
It was the most painful thing you had ever felt.