He hadn''t even spared her a sideways nce, let alone spoken a word.


    At first, she''d been afraid of Charles-so much so that whenever she sat next to him, she tried to shrink herself into the smallest possible space. But ever since the night he carried her out of the basement, she couldn''t help but notice everything about him: the way he spoke, the way he moved. She found herself stealing nces, no matter how hard she tried not to.


    Charles was picky about food, so she''d quietly memorized every single thing he liked and disliked. In the five years they''d lived together, every time she knew he wasing home, she''d whip up something new, hoping it would please him.


    Everyone always said that the way to a man''s heart was through his stomach. She''d held onto that hope that if she could just cook his favorite meals, maybe she, Charles, and little Charlie could finally have a real, happy family.


    But time and again, her efforts fell t. Charles would either be tied up at somest-minute business dinner and note home at all, or he''d show up after eating elsewhere. Almost every time, she wouldn''t even get the chance to sit down with him before he''d gesture for her to go upstairs. No small talk, no warmth. Just business.


    He came home for one reason only, and it had nothing to do with her heart or her cooking.


    Did he ever care what she liked? Did he ever even wonder?


    Lost in her thoughts, Evelyn hardly realized it when Charles took her hand and led her toward the dining table. She snapped back to herself and pulled her hand free.


    "I''m not hungry."


    "Are you feeling okay? Or is it the food? Just tell me what you want, I''ll make it for you," Charles said, his eyes scanning her face with what almost looked like


    concern.


    “Charles, just looking at you makes me lose my appetite. Why would I want to eat anything you make?"


    Her wordsnded like a p.


    "Eve, I spent two hours making this..." he tried, his voice tight.


    He''d really tried this time. He wanted her to see that he was making an effort.


    "So what?" Evelyn shot back, her face cold and mocking.


    Charles was left speechless. After the way he''d ignored her feelings all these years, what right did he have to expect anything more?


    "If you don''t want what I made, I''ll just order from Debbie''s Garden. Will that do?"


    Before Evelyn could answer, her phone rang. The icy look on her face shifted ever so slightly as she stepped aside to answer.


    "Brooks, how''s Aunt Josephine? Is she any better?"


    "She''s fine, don''t worry. Eve, where are you? I want to see you.”


    Brooks had just left the hospital and was desperate to be with her, scared that his mother''s illness might drive Evelyn away.


    "I''m at—" Oakwood Manor was on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated.


    Just then, Charles''s voice echoed


    In


    from behind her. He was on the phone, ordering takeout from Debbie''s Garden to be delivered to


    Oakwood Manor. Brooks heard it too, even over the line.


    Evelyn shot Charles a fierce re. He was doing this on purpose.


    She pressed her lips together and stepped out into the garden, lowering her voice. “Brooks, I''ve decided to keep the baby."


    "Okay."


    Brooks had always told her he''d respect her choice, no matter what.


    But hearing how quickly he epted it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Ever since Mrs. Robinson found out the baby was Charles''s, she and Brooks had run out of options.


    "Brooks, what I mean is—"


    "Eve, just give me a little time..." Brooks interrupted, not wanting ker to say the words out loud. He wasn''t stupid. The moment she said she''d keep the baby, he knew wha@she was really saying.


    "Brooks, let''s break up."


    She said it anyway, even though he tried so hard to stop her.