“Knowing you were right down the hall was way too hard. I couldn’t do it,” Evan declared, sliding under the covers next to me.”

“You are not showing her my baby pictures!” He sounded horrified, which made me laugh. “Come on, Evan,” I teased with a laughing smile, “you were adorable.”

“I knew in that moment, I would never love anyone in my life the way I loved Evan Mathews.”

“I had to sever my emotional cord to escape the anger and shame that silently slithered through my head, disconnecting myself from the stares and whispers that followed me down the hall.”

“I trusted you," Evan bellowed, as the distance grew between us. I stopped and turned back around. He walked towards me until we were only a foot apart. "I trusted you, and you couldn't trust me." I stared back, watching the hurt reveal itself in his eyes. My heart ached in return. "I unpacked for the first time ever - for you. I was honest with you about everything-even with the truth about how I felt about you. I've never been that honest before. I trusted you." His voice drifted into a whisper as he leaned closer to me. "Why couldn't you trust me?”

“What if I don't want to be friends with you?" he challenged, grinning again, staring directly into my eyes. Obviously taking me seriously was an impossibility for Evan. Despite not being able to breathe, I connected with his taunting gaze and refused to look away. "Then we won't be friends," I said flatly. "What if I want to be more than friends?”

“I don't know how to fit you in my world without hurting you too." The truth in my words revealed more than he'd ever know. "Don't worry about hurting me," he replied calmly. "I like being a part of your world, and I understand that it's more complicated than you're willing to share with me. But I'll respect that, for now." He pulled into the parking lot of a drugstore and put the car in park. Evan seemed nervous as he turned to speak to ne. He released a quick breath before he spoke. My chest tightened, afraid to hear what he had to say." "I don't do this." His hands gestured between us. My eyes narrowed, trying to inerpret his meaning. He exhaled and looked out the windshield. "I don't stay, and I'm used to that. And I'm always prepared to leave-because I have to eventually. He stopped again, frustrated with himself. I sat motionless, absolutely convinced I didn't want him to continue - but I couldn't bring myself to ask him to stop. "I want to stay here," he finally decalred. "It would bother me if I left. I mean, I've already unpacked.”