My Dad's Bestfriend novel Chapter 68

Evelyn

I found myself gazing at him blankly as he averted his eyes, avoiding any direct contact with me. It was difficult to discern whether it was guilt etched across his face or something else entirely. It was questionable whether I should confront him about it, given that he hadn't shown an ounce of guilt when he unceremoniously dumped me or when he was caught in a rather compromising situation with Chloe. God! He had even taken it a step further by publicly declaring his reconciliation with his ex.

A man like him didn't seem capable of guilt, nor could he care for me. If he had cared, he wouldn't have done what he did to me.

"I think I'd rather head inside to find my friends; I can find my way home with them," I said, my emotions in disarray and the effects of alcohol only intensifying the confusion. I couldn't determine if it made me more foolish or insightful, but that was a secondary concern at this point. "Thanks for your help."

I needed to stay far away from him, for my own sake.

As I began to step away, he seized my wrist firmly. "Are you out of your mind? You're considering going back into the club for what? To attract another asshole and get yourself into some shit again?"

"Yes, I am out of my mind! I am fucking crazy, alright?!” I yanked my hand away from his grip, inwardly resenting how my skin still tingled from his touch, yet I remained inexplicably drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but I do know one thing—I don't want to be anywhere near you. I want to stay as far away as possible! You saved me from getting raped, and I'm grateful for that, but now it's time for you to leave!"

I pivoted to walk away, but he caught my arm and turned me around. The back of my heel met the rough pavement, causing a nearly inaudible wince to escape my lips— those blisters weren’t going to fade for weeks.

Jacob, I may add, consumed by an unusual mix of agitation, appeared oblivious to it all. His piercing green eyes blazed with frustration, anger, and a myriad of other emotions that I chose not to read.

Why bother reading them, anyway? He wasn't the Jacob Adriano I once knew—a transformation into an entirely different human being had occurred within the span of only 48 hours. He was— Twisted, heartless, fucked-up, and fucking cruel.

"Don't be stupid, Evelyn. You are far too drunk to consider going back into that club," his jaw clenched, "Enough with this drama; get in the car."

It was either sheer stupidity on his part or perhaps my own for even considering the idea. For fucks’s sake—Why on earth would I want to share a car with him after all he'd put me through?

I scoffed, letting out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "Don't pretend you care about me, Jacob. It no longer suits you, nor does it serve me any longer. So, I suggest you drop the act and get the hell out unless you plan to be the one to take advantage of me. You've already done it once, haven't you? Maybe not by force, but manipulation counts just the same, doesn't it? There's not much difference between you and that guy, if you ask me."

Rage flared in his eyes, and I could tell I'd caught him off guard. Nevertheless, he quickly retorted, "Are you even listening to yourself, Evelyn?"

Of course, I was, and he probably knew it too. But his ego was too colossal to admit it.

"Yes, I am. I can hear myself loud and clear. But if you're having trouble understanding, I can repeat it for you, would you like that?"

"I didn't take advantage of you, Evelyn. So, stop spouting nonsense, okay?" His anger was evident.

Fuck him. Delusional motherfucker!

"You admitted you used me as a distraction, so that's practically the same damn thing. You're a liar, a terrible being!" My words rang out, loud yet trembling. "I gave you my heart, and you shattered it without a second thought. You made promises you had no intention of keeping, uttered words you didn't mean, and pretended to be someone you're not, all while knowing you don't love me. Screw it, I don't even want to see your face! Get the hell out of here, if you have any ounce of shame left."

Don't cry, Evelyn. Don't you dare shed a tear.

He stared at me in silence, his expression unreadable. Even if there was something to discern, something to grasp, I couldn't, because my vision had blurred from the tears welling up in my eyes. Damn it, I didn't want to appear weak, I didn't want to let him see the pain he had inflicted, so he wouldn't use it against me for his own selfish purposes.

But how can you act unaffected when I am crumbling inside?

Even looking at his face was agonizing. It felt like reality was landing relentless blows on my face, my sides, my heart—unyielding until it shattered me completely.