My Dad's Bestfriend novel Chapter 145

Evelyn

As the sunlight filtered through the curtains, dancing with the breeze that gently stirred them, I found myself lost in a battle of distractions. With each crunch of a chip, I attempted to drown out the relentless thoughts of that infuriating man, burying myself in the pages of a book. Yet, even the storyline of my chosen novel failed to captivate me, paling in comparison to the chaotic drama of my own fucking life—a tragic fucked-up movie that audiences would devour when the characters would go through shit, feel like shit and maybe even look like shit!

Fuck this.

I am going to move forward, leave him and his memory behind once and for all—that’s final.

"Caroline didn't want to be with Edward, yet she knew he held the key to her heart, igniting a fire within her that no one else could replicate—a spark destined to burn eternally," I read aloud, my jaw tensing with each word.

It seemed the universe conspired against me, even influencing my choice of reading material—a cruel reminder of what I was desperately trying to escape.

With a frustrated growl, I slammed the book shut and sat up, a wave of agitation washing over me. As I headed to the bookshelf in search of a distraction, a sudden knock shattered the silence of the room.

Who was it now?

"Come in," I muttered absentmindedly, my fingers grazing over the spines of various books until I settled on a thriller. There was no chance this genre would trigger thoughts of him; if anything, it would fuel my imagination with psychotic fantasies of revenge—a thought I’d shamelessly entertain. I would kill him, slowly and painfully—yes!

"Well, what have we here in the early hours?" Clara's voice echoed, drawing my attention away from the shelf.

"Just losing myself in a book, Clara—trying to make productive use of my time," I replied, flopping back onto the bed in my usual manner, legs raised as I sprawled across the mattress. "Finishing a book might provide a sense of accomplishment, don't you think?"

"I see," Clara mused, joining me on the edge of the bed, her eyes skimming the cover of my chosen novel. "A thriller—not your typical choice."

"I'm trying to shake things up, Clara," I sighed, flipping through the first few pages. "No point in sticking to the same old routine, the same old choices. People change, after all."

I felt the softening of Clara's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the underlying meaning behind my words. She knew me too well to overlook that. No doubt, her arrival, especially at this hour, hinted at a conversation related to Jacob's stay, a maneuver orchestrated by Dad to soften the blow of his impending apology. I was pretty sure he’d be here once Clara gave him the green signal.

"Can I ask you something, Evie?" Clara's voice pierced the silence, drawing my focus to her.

"Go ahead, Clara.”

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before plunging into the heart of the matter. "Do you truly don’t want Jacob in your life anymore?"

My throat constricted at her directness. I hadn't anticipated such a blunt interrogation, but now I was obliged to respond.