Promises Forgotten
Chapter 18

***Evelyn POV***

I don’t know how I got here. When I got out of the cab at the hotel, I numbly made my way to my room and face planted on my bed. I slept for hours. I got a couple worried voicemails from both Mike and Jaco. When I woke up mid-afternoon the next day, I quickly lied through my teeth and said I was fine. It wasn’t fine. None of it was fine. It was all f****d up and I could barely function.

Managing to check my email, I did at least read over the document the lawyer sent me. I made a few adjustments. Adding Elliot’s name to the trust fund so I wouldn’t need to go through the hassle of it later but made sure the last name said Harris, not Anderson. He also said Zach had asked for photos of the time we were together. It seemed weird when we were literally finalizing our divorce. I wanted to say no. Those photos now were the only proof I carried of what we had together. The only thing that now kept me sane and proved that our time together wasn’t a dream. Other than Elliot and my arm, of course. But Elliot was his own little person. The love that Zach and I shared was before him. Some days I would wake up in terror that it was all a dream and never existed, but I would flip through our photos and feel at little more as ease.

At the end of the day though, they weren’t just mine, even if he didn’t remember anything. They were his as well. His memories and he had a right to decide to look at them or not. So I sent him a quick message with the attached folders. Closing my laptop, I had strapped on my arm and headed out.

Now, I found myself at two in the afternoon, sitting at an old Irish pub somewhere in New York on a f*****g Wednesday, filling the numbness in my heart with alcohol.

“Well, shit. Would you look at that. Poor bastard. That tramp finally got caught.” The bartender was turned toward the TV in the corner, and I looked up.

A photo of Zach was next to a video of Jennifer, wrapped in sheets as another man also backed away, covering his d**k with a pillow. It took me a minute to register, but as I watched the news report on the scandalous activity of the princess of the Sinclair family, my mind wandered to Zach. I hoped he was okay. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I glared at my drink and downed it. Slamming the glass on the bar, I growled.

I shouldn’t f*****g care. I shouldn’t care about him or anything in his f*****g life. Putting my forehead down on the bar, I sighed. Who the f**k was I kidding? Myself? I didn’t even f*****g believe myself most of the time. I loved him. I still loved him. Every inch of me craved him. Seeing him only made the dull ache I felt roar back to life. I thought my anger was strong enough to fuel me through this, but Mike was right. Being ready was something I never would be, when coming face to face with Zachary Anderson.

“If f*****g political marriage can’t even work, what about the ones where there is love?”

I chuckled at the bartender. “Those don’t work out either.” Pushing my glass forward, I let the bartender take the glass and refill it.

“Heartbreak got you too?”

“I don’t even think heartbreak is a strong enough word to describe the numb hollow hole in my soul.” I mumbled, pulling the drink back and taking a sip.

He chuckled. “Well, at least you’re not the sorry sap who got cheated on by a woman who ran around spending millions of your damn money.”

I smiled and looked down at the bottom of the glass. “No…I’m just his wife.”

The bartender didn’t hear me and he didn’t need to. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my messages before deciding that drunk texting was indeed the best idea. I typed in the number that was at the bottom of the email that Derek-with-two-f*****g-first-names sent me and stared at the message. What do you say? Sorry your new wife sucks? Sorry you picked poorly while you’re married to someone else?

I chuckled but it ended in a sigh. Quickly, I typed up a text.

E: Saw the news. Hope you’re okay.

Hitting send immediately filled me with regret and I just shoved my phone into my jacket pocket. One of the other bartenders, a woman, came over and was trying to refill a bottle but was having a time getting the lid off. She ran it under hot water and still wasn’t able to. Smiling, I lifted my finger.

“Want me to get it?”

She looked at me confused for a moment but handed me the bottle. I took it and pinched the lid with my metal fingers. Her eyes went wide as I easily popped the top off. Smiling, I handed it back to her.

“It comes in handy sometimes.”

“Shit, I guess so. How’d it happen?”

I took another sip of my drink. We now had the attention of the other bartender.

“Took a bullet for the love of my life.”

His brow furrowed. “What kind of an a*s leaves a woman when she literally gave her right arm for him?”

I looked up at the TV, the photo of Zach still splashed on the screen. “The kind that doesn’t remember what it was like to love in the first place.”

–

Somehow, I made it back to my room. I don’t remember making it back, but I woke up with my shoes off, and my arm still on, so I got halfway there. Flipping over, I looked at the digital clock that said 2:30 a.m. and I g*****d. I would be so f****d when I got back home.

Sitting up, I looked around and found my phone laying on top of my jacket on the corner of the bed. There were a couple of text updates from Jacob, and that Elliot finally asked Anne to use some salt in her cooking, and it sparked a huge debate between the two of them. Which then ended with Anne saying she refused to make any food until Elliot apologized and he would just need to have Jacob make him food. Which he replied ‘finally’ and that just devolved into chaos.

Chuckling, I scrolled through my other messages and my eyes landed on one that was sent only a few minutes ago.

Z: I’ve been better.

My eyes stared at the number and I cursed when I realized I f*****g drunk texted my soon to be ex-husband. Why didn’t the f*****g bartender stop me? Shit. Now it showed read, too. I cursed new technology. Sighing, I fell back on the pillows and looked at the message.

E: I hope it all worked out.

A minute went by and I started to set my phone down when it vibrated in my hand.

Z: Depends on your definition of worked out.

E: I’m sure our definitions are very different.

Once I sent it, I wrinkled my nose and sighed. F**k. Don’t f*****g go there, you stupid girl. I started to type ‘Have a good night’ when another message popped up.

Z: What are you doing awake?

I should say goodnight. I should just say goodnight. I had a meeting tomorrow with him over the final signature of the papers. It would be done tomorrow. That would be it. We would never see each other ever again. Even if Elliot asked me to go with him to meet his father, I wouldn’t. This would be it.

E: Day drinking f***s with your sense of time.

I slammed my head back. I’m a f*****g idiot.

Z: Don’t I know it. If you’re awake, want tacos?

My eyebrow raised. Tacos? At 2 f*****g a.m. on a now Thursday morning? Just say no. Say no. Cut it off while you are still ahead, girl. Just stop before you say something else.

E: Depends on how good the tacos are.

Z: The best. Meet me here. I promise I won’t pay.

I snorted at the message as he sent a pinned location. It was a little empty lot I thought I had seen a few blocks down. Taking a deep breath, I yelled “f**k.” I was going to regret this. Severely regret this. Getting up, I grabbed my leather jacket and threw on my combat boots. Grabbing my wallet, I shut the hotel door behind me and proceeded to walk out of the hotel. The entire way I followed the walking path, I kept running through my mind I was going to regret this so much. This was going to be a f*****g mistake and I was going to be paying for it the rest of my f*****g life.

Turning around the corner, the weirdly empty lot was not empty at all. Food trucks littered the area, as well as a live band in the far corner. Smiling, my feet picked up. This was my crowd. My group. You could smell the oil they used in the cooking and the different spices of the different types of food. The little area was lit with little lights that were strung haphazardly around the lot and in between the food trucks themselves.

The yelling and laughing and even the music made me smile and reminded me of home. More so it reminded me of the first night Zach and I met. It was eerily similar. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt him behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. My heart hammered in my chest and I swallowed hard.

“You got here fast.”

Taking a deep breath, I let a smirk fall on my face as I twirled around to look at him. I nearly fell. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His hair messy as though he had just gotten up out of bed. My heart dropped but somehow I managed to keep the smirk plastered on my face. Hands in his pockets, he looked f*****g gorgeous and I hated it. I hated that all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and pull him close. I hated that I wanted to forget that I was left alone for years. I hated that I couldn’t even forgive him because he was already forgiven.

“I’m close, so I walked. F**k New York traffic. I thought LA was bad.”

He chuckled. “Come on. The truck in the corner is the one with the best tacos.” His hands came out of his pocket and took hold of mine. He pulled me through the crowd and I could only follow behind him, my eyes locked on our hands. Pulling me up through the line of people, he brought me around the back of the truck where the door was open.

“¡Hola Jefe!” [Hi boss!]

“¡Ay! El pendejo da la cara!” [Oh! The a*****e shows his face!] One of the chefs stepped out from the group of five people crammed into the small space of the food truck. He reached out and gave Zach a strong handshake. “¿Cómo estás muchacho?” [How are you boy?]

Zach smirked. “Mejor de lo que te ves.” [Better than you look.]

The chef laughed and shook his head. “¿Qué puedo hacer por ti y tu bella dama?” [What can I do for you and your lovely lady?]

“A couple of the specials, if you don’t mind. The lady is paying.”

This time I laughed and turned to Zach, eyeing him. “Veo que eres un cerdo dentro y fuera de la oficina.” [I see you are a pig in and out of the office.]

Zach’s face dropped in shock and the chef started belly laughing. “Oh shit, where the f**k did you find this one? I like her!”

I turned to the chef and winked. “As of later today I’m on the market. I’ve got another day in New York if you want your shot.”