My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 70 Love And Lies

Evelyn

I woke up in Jacob's arms. Oddly enough, this cursed, seemingly endless night had not yet come to an end. It was the only time I wished time would speed up, but the entire universe seemed to conspire against me.

Don't get me wrong; we weren't in some stupid cozy cuddling situation. To be clear, we were now nothing more than strangers. This man had just saved me from getting raped by some random dude and brought me back to my house. So, all I owed him was a simple thank you, or at least that's what my drunken, hazy, and scrambled memories told me. But I had already offered him that, so we were even.

As he carried me upstairs, I found myself unable to say anything, mainly because I had nothing left to say after the chaos of the night. I had zero energy left, but looking didn't consume any energy, right? At least that's what I assumed.

So, I stared at him like some sort of weirdo. Deep down, a small part of my super-drunk consciousness knew that I might not get this opportunity again. Enjoy it while it lasts- that's what I did.

I know I was crazy. Super foolish.

But one question nagged at me: Why was he helping me so much? Was it out of sheer humanity? I had my doubts; he didn't seem to possess much of that. He didn't have a heart, so humanity probably wasn't his possible motivation.

The peace and quiet I attempted to embrace didn't seem very appealing to my drunken mind. Eventually, I found myself breaking the silence. "Where are you taking me?" I swayed my legs, feeling somewhat like a child being carried by an elder. Well, he had carried me a few times when I was a kid.

"To your room, Evelyn."

"Well, you should have taken me to a bar instead of bringing me home," I mumbled as I buried my head into his neck, inhaling his scent- he still smelt as good as I could remember..

I felt his body stiffen, but he continued walking.

"Remember the time I fell and scraped my knee during a family picnic?" I asked, raising my head to look at him. "You rushed over, picked me up, and gave me a piggyback ride all the way back to the beach house to clean my wounds since Dad was out getting groceries for your and your friends' ridiculous cooking experiments?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, I do."

I couldn't understand why he wouldn't look at me, but the mention of that event clearly brought him some happiness. I could sense it. "And later that experiment failed, and we all ended up ordering pizza," a small laugh slipped past my lips, "While everyone else had made their way back to their rooms, you and Dad had the knack for watching movies. Dad passed out on the floor, munching on a packet of chips, and you dozed out on the couch, right beside me..." I exhaled a small sigh, and finally, his eyes shifted toward me. As our gazes locked, I found it increasingly difficult to speak. "That was the day... When I looked at your sleeping figure, instead of the weird, stupid car racing show playing on TV, I heard the sound of fireworks somewhere ... just somewhere within. I felt the sparks for the first time, and that thirteen-year-old crush I thought was stupid, Deep down, I knew I was always searching for your glimpse in every guy I came across. You are my first love, Jacob...you always will be."

I could tell he was taken aback, and to be honest, I was too. I had saved this confession for a special occasion, but it seemed there was no special occasion left for us except for this one. Once the wedding was over, we might be far away from each other, perhaps forever, and even though it would hurt, there would be nothing I could do.

He cleared his throat after a moment of just staring at my face. "Your... your room."

He gently let me down on my feet, straightening his posture as he opened the door. "Go and get some rest. I'll tell Clara to check on you."

"No need to tell her," I replied quietly, "She doesn't have to know how miserable I've become."

"Okay then, whatever you prefer."

How could he act so carelessly and coldly? Even my tears had dried up at this point; I no longer had the strength to cry.

I grabbed his hand as he attempted to walk away, closing the door with a loud thud and pushed him against it, "I still don't get it... I just don't get it," | slammed my fists against his chest, almost shouting, "How is it that for me, it hurts like hell, and you... even if you said, even if it was a lie, feel nothing?"

"Why did you do this to me?! You knew how much I love you, you still know it all, yet... why?!"

"Evelyn, someone will hear us. You need to go inside your room," he said, his gentle grip and soothing voice only serving to irritate me further. It frustrated me that he spoke so many different languages all at the same time.

"Then let them hear us! I don't give a damn!" I shouted, locking eyes with him, "Let them know that I had an affair with my Dad's best friend behind his fucking back, and you, being the bigger asshole, led me on, used me, until you didn't feel the need anymore. Besides, Clara and my mom already know, so what's the big deal if a few more people find out? Let them hear all of it-how you and I sneaked into each other's rooms, spent the nights away fucking and tangled in each other's arms, how you promised forever and so on, and then you flipped it all in a second, just from having one goddamn conversation with your ex. What's wrong with people knowing when we've actually done it? Afraid of a scandal, aren't you? You didn't seem much afraid when we were fucking every single day, so what's making you a pussy now?"

He released a tight breath, shaking his head. "You need to calm down."

"Do you think I am having fun being like this? Do you fucking think that I want to be like this? Even I want to do that-stay fucking calm and move on from a piece of shit like you, but I can't freaking do that, you moron. I can't stay calm when it's hurting like hell," I spat, "How could you just get back with her so easily? What did I do wrong, huh? Ktried everything, I did everything, gave you all I had, yet... that didn't seem to be enough. How?! What do you want from your life? From the woman who shattered you," My voice began to crack, but I refused to crumble this time, "Is it all about sex? Is she better a better fuck than me, is that it? Or wasn't I not experienced enough for your liking as a virgin?" Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

"Evelyn... I told you before it's not "

"Stop fucking lying, Jacob! Stop with these lies. I'm tired of it. Just give me the truth. I only want the truth because I can't accept that all we had could mean nothing to you. I can't accept that there's this side of you, an ugly and twisted one."

"I gave you the truth. What I said should be the only truth, and you have to accept it," his voice remained cold. What a cruel bastard!

"What truth? The one where you said

you used me as a distraction and kept lying to keep sleeping with me? Or the one where you suddenly realized that I wasn't the love of your life, it was Chloe, or the one where you said you tried loving me But never got over Chloe?" I asked, raising my voice, "What's your version of the truth?"

"My version of the truth is the only one I know, and that's that I love Chloe- it should be enough. That's all you should know."

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. "Love; the word sounds rich coming from you." Talking to him was futile. Why was I even wasting my time? Maybe the alcohol had seriously fucked up my mind.

"Fine," I released my grip on him and smoothed his t-shirt, "Go to the love of your life. I hope you two fuck well tonight, and yeah, I know she's a bitch, but don't make fake promises to her like you did to me. At least that way, you'll be loyal somewhere than nowhere at all," I pushed him to the side,

"Go. Just go." Shaking my head, I opened the door and walked into my room without giving Jacob another glance.

My eyes fell on the portrait of his, still half-finished, and then I noticed the brushes and paint nearby. I walked closer to the painting, feeling completely numb as I looked at it. Bending down, I grabbed a brush and dipped it into black paint, writing down the letters with slow, deliberate strokes.

The letters formed the word 'Mistake'-just as I had intended.

Yes, that's what he was-A mistake.