Chapter Twenty-Three: The Return
Evan's POV - Age 20
Evan saw them through the coffee shop window.
He'd come home for Christmas break his first time back in over a year and immediately regretted it. The house was empty and cold. His mother was in Europe on business. The memories were suffocating.
He'd escaped to town, to the only decent coffee shop, needing noise and people and anything to drown out the whispers in his head.
And then he saw her.
Fabiola.
She was at a corner table, wearing a red sweater that made her dark skin glow. Her hair was longer, pulled back in a ponytail. She was laughing at something, her hand covering her mouth.
Beautiful. Alive. His.
Except she wasn't his anymore.
Because sitting across from her, making her laugh, was a guy Evan vaguely recognized from high school. Dark hair, easy smile, the kind of clean-cut look that mothers loved.
The guy reached across the table, touched Fabiola's hand.
She didn't pull away.
Something inside Evan shattered.
He turned and walked away before she could see him.
Went back to the house. Packed his bags. Drove back to Yale that night, even though break had just started.
He didn't say goodbye.
Didn't text.
Didn't do anything except drive and drive and try not to think about her hand under someone else's.
Back at Yale, Evan stopped going to classes.
Stopped eating regularly. Stopped sleeping more than a few hours a night.
He'd see Fabiola everywhere in the dining hall, in the library, walking across the quad. But when he looked closer, it was never her. Just his mind playing tricks.
You're losing it, Lucas's voice whispered in the dark. Just like I said you would.
"Shut up," Evan said to the empty room.
She moved on. She forgot about you. You're nothing now.
"I said shut up."
But the voice was right.
Fabiola had moved on.
And Evan was drowning alone.
He dropped out in February.
Didn't tell anyone. Just stopped showing up, stopped submitting assignments, let his GPA tank until the administration called him in.
"Mr. Harlow, you're failing every class. If you don't..."
"I'm withdrawing."
"You're... what?"
"Withdrawing. I'm done."
They tried to talk him out of it. Reminded him of his scholarship, his future, his family legacy.
Evan signed the papers anyway.
Margaret called, screaming. "You're throwing away everything! Your father's company, your future, your.."
He hung up.
Packed his dorm room in silence.
And drove home.
He found her on a Tuesday afternoon in March.
Evan had been back for a week, hiding in the estate, avoiding everyone. But he couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't stop needing to know if she was okay, if she was happy, if she
If she still thought about him.
He drove to the state college campus, parked outside her dorm, and waited.
Like a stalker. Like a creep.
Like someone who'd completely lost his mind.
Two hours later, she emerged.
Alone.
No boyfriend. No friends. Just Fabiola in jeans and a hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking tired and small and painfully familiar.
Evan's heart stopped.
She looked different. Thinner. The light that used to radiate from her had dimmed.
She looked like he felt.
Broken.
He got out of the car.
"Fabiola."
She froze mid-step. Turned slowly.
When her eyes met his, everything else disappeared.
The campus. The students walking past. The world itself.
Just her. Just those dark brown eyes that had haunted his dreams for a year and a half.
"Evan?" Her voice cracked on his name.
"Hi." Stupid. Inadequate. But his brain had stopped working.
She stared at him like he was a ghost. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know. I just...." He took a step closer. "I needed to see you."
"You needed to.." Her expression shifted from shock to anger. "You needed to see me? You disappeared for over a year, Evan. You stopped texting. Stopped calling. You left me."
"I know."
"That's it? That's all you have to say? I know?"
"I'm sorry." The words felt pathetically insufficient. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. Thought you'd be better off without me..."
"That wasn't your choice to make!"
Her voice rose, drawing stares from passing students. "You don't get to decide what's better for me. You don't get to just leave and then show up a year later like nothing happened!"
"I know. You're right. I fucked up." He ran a hand through his hair, desperate. "I fucked up so badly and I don't know how to fix it and I'm sorry, Fabiola, I'm so sorry..."
"Why now?" She wrapped her arms around herself. "Why come back now?"
"Because I saw you." The words tumbled out. "At Christmas. Through the coffee shop window. With that guy. And I realized I'd made a mistake. The biggest mistake of my life." He stepped closer. "I thought letting you go would save you from me. From my darkness. But I was wrong. I was so wrong."
Fabiola's eyes filled with tears. "You broke me, Evan."
The words gutted him.
"I know."
"I tried to move on. Dated someone else. Tried to be normal." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "But I couldn't. Because you took all of me with you when you left. And I don't know how to be whole without you."
"I'm not whole without you either." His voice broke. "I dropped out. I can't eat, can't sleep, can't breathe without you. Every day without you feels like dying."
"Good," she said viciously. "I hope it hurt. I hope you suffered like I suffered."
"I did. I am." He was close enough to touch her now, but didn't. "And I know I don't deserve forgiveness. I know I don't deserve another chance. But Fabiola." His voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "I'm drowning without you. And I don't want to keep drowning alone."
She stared at him, tears streaming, her whole body shaking.
Then she stepped forward and slapped him.
Hard.
The crack echoed across the quad.
Evan didn't move. Didn't even raise a hand to his stinging cheek.
He deserved it. Deserved worse.
"I hate you," Fabiola whispered.
"I know."
"I hate you for leaving. For making me love you. For making me need you. For...." Her voice broke completely. "For making me forget how to be happy without you."
"I know," Evan said again. "I hate me too."
They stood there, inches apart, both crying, both broken.