The Space Between Love And Hell

Chapter 14

"Well, what do you think?" Vance smiled at me, pulling my chair out and gesturing for me to sit. I glanced around, taking in the room. The restaurant was almost completely empty, aside from a few couples all wrapped up in their own worlds. They gazed into each others' eyes lovingly, and I felt a twinge of . . . something deep in my stomach. Longing? Regret? I glanced at Vance, watching him as he fiddled with his watch. I set my phone gently on the table, staring at him.

"Where did you get the watch?" I questioned, trying to start the evening on a lighter note. He glanced up, lips tightening.

"We were doing some . . . brotherly shopping," he said, glancing back down at the watch. Huh, I thought, trying to imagine the three of them going watch shopping together.

"Why didn't you tell me Leo was your brother?" I asked him, deciding it was best to just drop the niceties and cut straight to the point. He raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow as he lifted his hand, flagging down a young waitress.

"Why didn't you ask?" he countered, flashing a smile at the waitress as he grabbed a leather menu, scanning the drinks. I suppose he did bring up a good point. I should've asked a long time ago, preferably not on a date with a guy I didn't like. "We'll get two bottles of your most expensive wine," he said, glancing at me for confirmation. I gave him a weak smile, folding my menu and handing it to him. He stacked it on top of his own and returned it to the waitress, who nodded her head and tucked the menus under her arm, promptly turning and strolling back to the kitchen.

I picked at my nail polish, biting my lower lip. I thought about the ring from Collin, sitting undisturbed on my bedside table. What am I forgetting? I knew I was with Collin, but I couldn't remember anything besides a few little moments. And Leo . . . it was like I knew him too, somehow. I mean, what were the chances that my ex-boyfriend's brother would work at the same place I do? What were the chances that I would've been picked for the "free cruise" over the hundreds of other employees that perform much better than I do? I mean don't get me wrong, I love my job. Work always comes first. But I'm not even in a noteable position. I'm a fucking accountant. There's got to be something I'm missing.

"I'm just sick of being left in the dark," I muttered, certainly loud enough for Vance to hear. I shifted in my chair, smoothing my dress and tilting my head up to stare at the ceiling, which held two diamond chandeliers. How the fuck did they even get the money to afford a cruise line? I felt Vance's eyes on me as I turned my head, refusing to look at him.

"I know," he said solemnly, reaching over and resting his gloved hand on mine. I glanced at him, shocked by this sudden change in his behavior. His flirty, confident exterior seemed to have faded as he brushed a thumb across my fingers, looking down at the table. "The truth is," he started, exhaling heavily and peering back up at me at through his thick eyelashes, "Nobody gets to know everything. At the end of the day, Evelyn, I know just as much as you do." He chuckled dryly, staring off to the left. "As a kid, I always wanted to be the best. You know how it is, especially with two siblings. I was the oldest, and I was supposed to know everything, be this . . . amazing brother, person, whatever . . . that everyone looked up to." I studied him, tilting my head, trying to figure him out.

"And?" I pushed, knowing that there was more he wanted to say.

"And I was," he recalled, looking heavenward. "It wasn't enough." He smiled slightly, only for it to collaspe into a frown seconds later. He shook his head, squeezing my hand a little as he thought. "That's the thing, Eve," he went on, licking his dry lips. "No matter how much you know . . . no matter what you can do . . ." This time when he looked at me, something new blazed in his eyes. Something hurt, something dangerous. "It will never be enough. Not for you, not for anyone," he finished, now staring in the direction of the kitchen.