My Dad's Bestfriend novel Chapter 178

Evelyn

Morning arrived quicker than expected, rousing me before the sun had fully risen. Clara had taken the wine bottle from my hand and lulled me to sleep, her presence soothing but only temporarily. I’d cried myself to sleep into her arms, the tears relentless. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I drifted off, only that I’d slept earlier than usual. My body, weighed down by stress, had forced itself into rest, but it was also the reason I was awake now—my mind refusing to grant me even a second beyond my usual routine.

Clara’s comfort might have dulled the ache last night, but the moment my eyes opened, the familiar sting of pain returned. It was as sharp as ever as if it had never left.

I sat up, exhaling a weary sigh. Despite the hours of sleep, I didn’t feel the usual grogginess, nor the need to rub the sleep from my eyes. Surely, rest had come, but peace hadn’t followed. I didn’t expect it to. The fact that I’d slept at all with the storm raging inside me was a miracle in itself. So, I had no right to complain.

Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed my phone and shot a message to Mason: "I’ll be at your place within the hour. You better fucking open the door this time instead of sleeping like an asshole."

To my surprise, his response was instant: "I was just about to crash. But I'll hold off ‘til you’re here. Hurry up."

"Okay."

I left the chat and texted Cameron: "Pick me up from Mason’s. I’m spending the day with him." It wasn’t entirely true, but close enough. Spending the day at Mason’s meant watching him sleep through his ridiculous snores, his sleep-talking, and occasionally yelling out some raunchy dialogue mid-dream. I’d witnessed it more times than I could count. It no longer fazed me. I could deal with Mason shouting the name of some guy he dreamt was shoving a cock down his throat—it was just background noise at this point.

After freshening up, I threw on a simple t-shirt and shorts, but I wasn’t about to head to Cameron’s birthday party looking like I’d crawled out of a pit. I packed a club dress and some makeup essentials into a bag. No matter how lost I felt, I wasn’t going to show up looking like the mess I had become, especially after last night’s sob fest.

Nothing in my life made sense anymore. I was making the dumbest decisions, grasping at anything that might numb the pain, knowing full well it wouldn’t. But I couldn’t stop myself.

I was a heartbroken woman, stumbling through the motions, trying to heal, yet breaking along the way.

I didn’t know where I stood in the chaos of my own life. Avoidance had become my constant companion—fleeing from the truth, ignoring my heart’s desires, silencing the voice of my soul’s yearning. Maybe I needed time. Time to figure it all out. Time to stop running. I’d always avoided facing reality, and now was no different. But soon, I’d have to confront everything.

"Taking time for yourself is okay, Evelyn," I whispered as I stepped out of my room. "It’s okay."

But the fragile comfort I had tried to cling to dissolved as my gaze fell on the slightly ajar door of Jacob’s room.

He hadn’t left yet.

The quiet rustle inside told me he was still packing.

I shouldn’t see him. I couldn’t. It would undo me completely.

It’d make me so fucking weak.

Yeah, I shouldn't—

Before I could even finish the thought, my body moved on its own, defying my intentions. I found myself standing in front of Jacob's door, my breath catching in my throat.

Don’t do this, Evelyn…

Don't fucking do this.

But not a single part of me listened. My hand rose, and I knocked twice.

The shuffling inside came to an abrupt stop, replaced by a thick, suffocating silence. He probably knew it was me—it could only be me standing outside his door at this hour.

I should go. I should walk away.

"I won’t be home until late," I murmured, trying to gather the courage to say what I’d come here for. "So I thought... maybe I should say goodbye."

My heart hammered in my chest as I reached for him, placing my hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm through his shirt, a warmth I knew I’d miss more than anything.

He understood without words. His hands found my waist, steadying me as I rose on my tiptoes, our faces so close now that our breaths mingled. Every fiber of my being screamed for him.

Jacob’s silence stretched for a few heartbeats before he leaned in, closing the distance, and pressed his lips softly to mine. I melted into him, my eyes fluttering shut as I kissed him back, almost desperate for the connection.

It wasn’t a kiss filled with lust or passion; it was soft, tender, and slow as if we were pouring all our unsaid words into it. It felt like everything I’d been holding onto was being released, but I also knew that once it ended, reality would crash down again.

And then, he pulled away, his hands gently cupping my face. "We can’t let things get out of control, Evelyn," he whispered, his breath still warm against my lips. "If we keep going, I’ll lose it. And I don’t want to lose it."

His words hung in the air between us, and I nodded, swallowing back the emotion rising in my throat. "Thank you for this..." I whispered, forcing myself to step back. "Take care of yourself."

Our eyes met again, and for a moment, I almost reached for him—almost traced the contours of his face, brushed my fingers through his hair, and felt the softness of his skin one last time. But I held back, knowing that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave.

"Goodbye, Jacob." I gave him a small, bittersweet smile and turned toward the door. As quickly as I could, I left the room, though his whispered "Goodbye, Evelyn" followed me like a shadow, lingering long after I’d walked away.