THE WOMAN BEFORE

Chapter 12

I S L A

     Ding-dong. It echoes in the living room, all the way to the kitchen where I’ve been standing for the past ten minutes trying to prepare breakfast for Uncle Sam and me. I turn off the tap and dry my hands with the napkin.

     I have no idea who would be outside my front door this early morning. The delivery man won’t be coming today. Parker won’t drop by either. He’s probably in his office at this time of the morning.

     When the doorbell rings again, I shout, “I’m coming!”

     What kind of impatient visitor is this? The person won’t let me breathe for just a second. I increase my steps to the foyer and open the door, immediately regretting doing so.

     I should be slamming the door after yelling at him not to show his face here again, but the truth is that I badly want to see him, to hug him, and tell him how much I’ve missed him. And he shouldn’t get married to Rosina, and I’ll do whatever he tells me to. I can’t do any of them. It will make me look like a stupid woman than the mature woman I am.

     I’ve never yearned for a man like this before. Till now I still don’t understand why Evans would do this to me of all people.

     I open the door wider and take a close look at him. He’s looking immaculate dressed in a black suit with a decent haircut. I wonder what he’s doing at my house.

     Frowning, I snap, “What do you want?”

     “Can I come in?” he asks so casually, as though nothing has happened between us.

     “No, you can’t. Whatever you’ve got to say, say it right here.”

     That’s not what I want, but he won’t do what I want, so I have no choice but to be hostile toward him.

     “Fine,” he says. “How’s Sam? I heard he moved in with you.”

     I roll my eyes and pretend I didn’t hear that. “What do you want, Evans?”

     He moves forward and I backstep. If he comes any closer, I swear I will shove him to the ground.

     “What I need to tell you is serious. Maybe I should enter.”

     I retort, “No. You’re not entering, so whatever you’ve got to say, say it right here.”

     Ever since I was released, we haven’t gotten the opportunity to talk like civilized people do. Our conversations have been brief, and they usually end very badly. Either I will shout at him and stomp off, or he will walk away disgruntled. A big portion of the company is still in my name, which is the main reason we meet often. We talk about work most of the time, but sometimes our relationship will just slip in. I won’t be seeing him often in a matter of time. I’m selling my share of the company to Parker.

     As I look into his eyes, a part of me wants to welcome him to my house and talk about us without involving work. I want nothing more than to know what happened while I was in prison. How he met Rosina and even fell in love with her. And most importantly what happened to us. I assumed we had something, even if it was minuscule, I thought there was some sort of bond between us. Had I been wrong?

     Although Evans had never proposed love to me in the past, I had always known there was something between us. I thought he was too shy to express his undying love for me. We had shared a kiss on multiple occasions, and I had hoped it would turn into something big. We had gone out in the past, several times, but he hadn’t called it a date. All along I thought he was shy, but what if he didn’t reciprocate my love? What if Evans had never been in love with me, and I had imagined everything?

     The realization gives me a second thought, and that’s when it occurs to me I need to have a serious conversation with him about our relationship. But with what’s happening, I don’t think that’s going to happen today.

     He pushes past me to the foyer, snapping me out of my thoughts. He’s already in the house. I close the door behind me and follow him to the living room. He stops by a couch and turns around. I frown. With Evans in my house, I think I will be frowning often.

     “I’m glad you didn’t sell the house,” he says. “I understand you’re upset with me, but I still care about you, Isla. I’ve always cared about you.”

     Selling the house is the last thing on my mind. It’s close to Rosina’s house. That way, I can keep track of her moves. I won’t sell this house. At least not yet.

     I slide my hand into the pocket of the nightgown. “What do you want, Evans? I’m not going to ask again.”

     “I came here to talk about Rosina,” he says.

     He’s got some nerves. Coming to my house to talk about that gold digger. “What about her?”

     He hesitates and looks at me. After a while, he says, “Have you been following her?”

     Wow! I can’t believe he came here to ask me this. If he’s asking this, then Rosina has told him I’ve been following her. Rosina doesn’t know me. We haven’t physically met, so I don’t think she mentioned my name to Evans. Finally, someone has developed some sense of detection. She’s realized it now. I was beginning to wonder if she was that stupid not to sense when someone was stalking her.

     “Did she tell you that?” I ask.

     “No. She didn’t. She thinks someone’s following her.”

     “And you’re here because?” I tuck strands of my bedhead behind my ear. “Can’t she just go to the cops? That’s what I’d do if someone was stalking me. I won’t go blabbing to my fiancé.”

     “Just answer the question, Isla.”

     I scoff. “I’m not obliged to answer any question. I think you should leave. You and your Rosina annoy me. I’ve had enough of you two.”

     “The sooner you accept that I’m getting married, the better it will be for the both of us. We can still be friends like we were.”

     Like we were? That’s all I meant to you? A friend? The words are about to leave my mouth when I swallow hard. “You’re unbelievable, you know?”

     I can’t believe he sees me as a friend and nothing more after everything I did for him. What happened to Evans? Ten years ago, I thought he was going to propose to me. The signs were there. I’m not sure I got the wrong signals.

     He doesn’t talk, and I don’t expect him to say anything. I don’t want to see him, much less hear his voice. “Go,” I say, almost breaking into tears. “Just go and never come back.”

     Shifting my eyes away from him, I listen to the clomping of his shoes as he walks to the door. My peripheral vision tells me he’s stopped and looking at me.

     I turn around swiftly and see him standing in the foyer. “I hate you, Evans!”

     I feel a sudden rage I’ve never felt before. Something tells me to grab the vase on the table and throw it at him. I try to resist but succumb and stomp to the table, pick up the vase, and hurl it at him. It misses him and lands on the floor, shattering into pieces. The golden tulips fly out and strew on the floor.

     He’s still standing there. “I’m sorry, Isla.”

     Is he mocking me or what? Why is he standing there like an idiot? “Leave, Evans! Leave my house!”

     “I’m sorry. I just want you to know that.” He faces the entrance and walks out, the door shutting after his departure.

     Slowly, I slouch and come down to the ground, sobbing like someone who’s just received the shocking news of her life.