The Space Between Love And Hell

Chapter 10

I woke up the next morning to a sharp, loud, high ringing I quickly recognized as my phone. I glanced over at the small phone, wishing it would just sink into the bedside table. I peered at the caller ID, eyelids still heavy.

Leo.

I groaned, seriously considering just hanging up and "enjoying" my "vacation" like everyone else on this godforsaken cruise. Not to mention, he totally ghosted me yesterday. But in real life. The dude literally ghosted me in real life. I let the ringing annoy me for a couple seconds longer, then I snatched up the phone and tried to hang up. I really tried.

But, once again, my curiousity got the better of me, so I . . . regrettably pressed the green button. It was a mistake.

"Hey, arsehole," he said as soon as I picked up, deadpanning. I had a feeling he meant it. But it was hard to listen to arse with a straight face.

"Hey, shithead," I shot back at him. I already didn't like waking up early. I hated waking up early to insults. I pushed the sheets off me and walked over to my suitcase, unzipping it and scanning for something to wear that was more appropriate than the flannel pants and oversized T-shirt I was wearing.

"I need you to meet me at Candlelitten Cafe." I rolled my eyes. As much as I loved that place, I was absolutely certain I would love it a lot less if I went with him.

"And why the hell whould I do that?" I asked calmly, picking up a cropped white tank-top, a flowy skirt, and a jean jacket, something that Claire would definitely wear.

I slipped on the skirt and top, waiting for whatever stupid reason he came up with.

"Because we need to discuss." I sighed as I shrugged on the jean jacket, making my way to the bathroom to do my hair.

"Whatever happened to the 'you have no idea what you're dealing with so it's best you stay out of it Evelyn' shit you were talking about yesterday?" I questioned, pulling my loose curls up into a tight ponytail.

"It's cute how you memorized exactly what I said." I could hear the self-entitlement in his tone when he spoke.

"You're funny," I said humorlessly. "You're also avoiding my question." I put in my favorite dimond earrings and it reminded me of the sweet person I'd met when I went to retrive them. That person and the person on this call were two very different people.

"Look, Evelyn. I take it back. I'm sorry . . . or, whatever." I smiled as I slipped on several different rings I'd gotten from various birthdays and holidays.

"What, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you, Leo." The groan of annoyance on the other line made my day. "I'll go if you ask me nicely. And pay for food."

"Oh my God. I'm hanging up," he said, clearly pissed.

"Okay." I shrugged even though I knew he couldn't see me, brushing on some expensive mascara. You could do a lot with 10,000 dollars.

Five seconds of silence. I'd thought it'd take at least ten.

"Fine. You win. Evelyn, will you please be so kind as to accompany me to the Candlelitten Cafe where I will happily treat you to whatever you want?" he said in an obviously forced, strained, high voice.

"Oh Leo. I would love to," I said in an equally high voice. He just sighed and hung up, but only after telling me to be there at ten o'clock sharp.

I slipped on my sandals and made my way to the door. Just as I was about to leave, a small glint caught my eyes. The sun was streaming through my window in thin streaks, and one of them was reflecting off a small ring on my bedside table. I huffed out a breath, debating.