#pomc1

“Mateo, don’t do this.” You were wide-eyed as you looked at him, begging, through whatever unspoken connection you had, not to do the one thing you were not sure you would be able to forgive him for. “It’s better this way baby.” His use of your pet name cut you to your very core, it was Mateo’s voice, his words, but this did not feel like Mateo. You were plummeted back, back to your breakup with Donovan, back to the words your father had spoken, words you had only just begun to accept. “Can’t you see. I’m only trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?!” The laugh that came out with those words was filled with rage, exhausted, heartbroken rage. The rage of everything you had faced over the past few years. “That’s what you do isn’t it Mateo? You protect me, you protect Leta, you protect Sophia, except in the ways that actually matter. You’ll stand between us and danger, but you won’t actually change anything. Not really. You won’t make the institutional change that might actually make our world safe to live in again. No. You keep us reliant on you, reliant on you to stand between us and danger, danger that’s just going to continue to replicate itself whilst you stand by and silently condone it.” You could feel the tears coming, sitting just behind your eyes. Your voice had broken, trembling with everything that was spilling out of you. You reached out for him and he pulled away, violently, refusing to meet your eyes. “Is this how you protect me? By taking away my option to choose for myself? My pushing me aside like I meant nothing to you.”

“We’re not right for each other.” His voice was level, eyes straight ahead on your house, barely even acknowledging your existence. “Please, Evelyn, don’t make this harder on me.”

You stared at him in shock. Mind flashing back to the times you had spent in his bed, how he had promised never to hurt you the way Donovan had. You had believed him too. Believed that Mateo was the one man who could never hurt you. How wrong you had been.

“If you do this there’s no coming back.” You told him. “I won’t wait for you to change your mind. This is it. If I walk out of this car I walk out for good.” His jaw tightened, a muscle pulsing in the corner, for a moment, a terrible moment, you thought he was going to change his mind.

Instead, he turned to face you, meeting your eyes for the first time since you had left the party. His eyes were hard, glassy, filled with everything but regret. “Goodbye, Evelyn.”

The damn broke with those words, tears streaming out, pouring down your face. You wasted no time wrenching the door open, stumbling to the pavement. As soon as you had slammed it shut Mateo pulled the car off the curb, speeding away from you as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You felt as if your heart had been torn out, staring after him despite your words, praying he would change his mind, change his mind and come back to you.

You weren’t sure how long you waited for him, it was too long, much too long, your fingers had gone numb by the time you turned to enter your apartment. Your apartment was empty, cold and lonely. You stumbled through it as if you were on auto piolet, falling into your bed as you pulled the sheets around you, seeking out any smell of Mateo that remained on your sheets hoping that if you buried yourself deep enough it would all go away, the last day would never have happened. The tears never stopped coming as, slowly, you fell into a restless sleep.

 You awakened to the sounds of your phone ringing, grabbing it in the hopes it would be Mateo, calling to tell you he had made a mistake. Despite your words, you would have forgiven him, forgiven him all of it. It wasn’t Mateo. It was a cousin, a cousin you hadn’t heard from since your father’s arrest. Before this might have sparked interest in you, now, however, it was simply an inconvenience you could not bring yourself to deal with. The woman who had known these cousins felt so far away, destroyed by what your father had done, from what you had been through since his arrest, from everything Mateo had made you feel. Instead, you just rolled over, burying your head in your blankets and ignoring as your phone continued to ring.

A lot of people called over the next day, your cousins, Donovan, Noelle, even your psychiatrist. You ignored all of them, none of them were Mateo, none of them mattered. As time dragged on your resolve hardened. You had exposed to Mateo and he had destroyed you. He didn’t want you, and in leaving behind he had destroyed everything you had. Your work, your social life, your safety, it had all been built around him. Your life seemed hopeless without him. How could you go to work now? How could you face anyone the two of you knew? Even dragging yourself out of your bed seemed hopeless. So instead you slept, allowing the whole weekend to disappear.

Sam accepted your excuses that you were sick, pressing that he expected to see you back at work in a week’s time. Somehow you doubted you’d ever be going back, not when you’d have to see Mateo’s cold eyes.

By Sunday your sadness had changed to resolve. This could not go on. The calls had stopped, allowing you to think. Your studies were what mattered now. You’d qualify and get out of excess as fast as you could, leaving Mateo as far behind as you could. He had taken a lot from you, but not that. Your passion, your dream of becoming a nurse, that was something he would never have.

On Monday your phone rang again. This time you answered it. Knowing you couldn’t hide anymore. “Hello?” You asked, not recognizing the number that had called you. “Evelyn?” An unfamiliar voice asked on the other side of the phone. “Yes?” “My name is Charles Harkins. I am the executor of your Uncle’s estate.” Your heart stopped in your chest. Your Uncle had died months ago. No one had thought to mention it to you. You hadn’t even been invited to the funeral, reading about it online instead. Why his lawyer would be calling you now you did not know. “My clients have been trying to get in contact with you for a couple of days. Your Uncle owned a diverse portfolio of property, some of it has been harder to sell than others. Your cousins would like to discuss a discounted sale of one of these properties with you. I understand they are hoping you can come to an understanding that is beneficial to both parties.”

You barely knew how to respond – you didn’t trust your cousins, not after how the family had treated you, but maybe this was exactly the fresh start you needed.

Finally, you hung up. Having dealt with one of the calls that had come through in the past couple of days you felt brave enough to face some of the messages that had come through. You scrolled through, seeing messages from the lawyer and your psychiatrist, asking you to call them. You kept scrolling, stopping when you saw a text from Leta, Mateo’s sister sitting in your inbox.

‘Evelyn, I am so sorry, Teo just told me. Please don’t give up on my brother, he’s an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, I know it and so does he, deep down.’

You stared at the phone for a moment, an idea begging to form in your head.