Carry Me Home

Twenty-Six

Evelyn

Despite my many attempts of loosening Rowan's hold on me I failed. He pressed feather-light kisses on my neck each time I tried to pry him away. I groaned at how tight he was holding me but he just wouldn't budge.

"It's just a week, Row."

"That's too long," he said, his mouth against my collarbone.

"It's just a week so no, it's not too long. Your parents are expecting you, Rowan."

"Angel, shh." He lifted his head up and stared at me. Not in a creepy way but in a way that told me he adored me and wouldn't ever let me go. The one person who argues on a regular basis with me, doesn't talk to me for a long period of time due to these arguments is the one staring at me as if I mean the whole world to him.

You mean the entire galaxy to me, Row.

"Can you believe that it's almost been two months since we've started dating?" he asked, tracing the lines inside my palm.

"I thought we wouldn't even make it to the first month after everything that happened in the first few days of us dating," I admitted, laughing at my early conception of this relationship.

"On the day of our child's birth I'm going to remind you that you didn't believe in the progression of our relationship from the start," he stated, tapping my nose as if he was telling me off. At the mention of having a child together a wave of uneasiness washed over me and I stepped away from his embrace. Rowan noticed how uncomfortable I was at his statement and thankfully he didn't comment on it.

"I seriously should get going," I said, backing away from him and moving in the direction of my car.

"Ok. I'll text you later."

"Bye." I thought just once that nothing would happen between Rowan and I before the holidays. Just once. But no I had to mess things up. I was afraid. Afraid of the future yet terrified of the past repeating itself. What did I have but hope to believe that if our relationship flourished in the future that Rowan wouldn't leave me the way my dad left my mum? The fear of the past coming alive again consumed me daily and if I was to conquer that fear I would be left shattered and weak. Too weak to carry on with the stability I had built for the present.

Having Rowan as my boyfriend scared the living shit out of me. He was too good to be true - too good to be mine - and the nagging in my head constantly reminded me that one day he will be gone because of me. I will have done something to mess this relationship up and in the end no one will be bothered to fix it. He would move on and get a girlfriend better than me but I wouldn't. Who would want to date a girl who refuses to let anyone in to read the book about her life? Who would want to date a girl who has been torn up and tossed around by her past and is still haunted by it? Who would?

I suddenly heard a loud beep snapping me back to reality, making me abruptly hit the brakes. I braced myself against my seat due to the impact before profusely apologising to the driver I nearly crashed into.

Breathe, Evie, breathe.

It's ok, Evie, it's ok.

You're almost home.

When I noticed the familiar array of houses with a peaceful silence enveloping the neighbourhood I knew I had arrived back home. After putting my car in park, I rushed out of it and knocked on the door of the house I lived in for a solid eleven years. I was greeted with sight of Uncle Noah wearing that big smile I was accustomed to.

"There's my little girl," he exclaimed, holding me hostage in his warm, homely hugs. "How have you been, Evelyn?"

"I've been well, Uncle Noah. What about you and Aunt Primose?" I asked, stepping into the living room I spent my childhood silently watching TV and playing with my jigsaw puzzles. I never talked much as a child - the trauma didn't allow me to. However, that never stopped Uncle Noah from talking to me continuously each day whilst he played with my mute self. He didn't give up on me and I was so grateful for that.