Eva scoffed, looking away again. The window suddenly seemed much more polite than the man seated beside her. "I don't intend to stay down for the rest of my life, if that's what you're getting at," she said.
"I followed the work you did with my sister," he said. "It was good. Really good."
"Yeah. That job put us in trouble, I'm guessing. Someone out there must have been pissed with some of our unravels and targeted us. We poked too many sleeping bears and didn't realize one of them had fangs."
Alex leaned back, resting his arm casually on the window frame.
"Did you know she was a lesbian?"
Eva nodded.
"She never told me," Alex said. "We may have been step-siblings, but we were close. She knew she could tell me anything, and I would've saved her from herself."
"She was afraid," she said quietly. "Of being judged. Of losing the version of herself she worked so hard to curate. Even when I told her people didn't care about that stuff anymore… clearly, I was wrong."
Alex gave a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, the world's real accepting. Until it needs a scapegoat."
"You know, it sucks. She didn't tell the one person who would've stood in front of a bus for her."
Eva looked at him, her eyes softening. "Sometimes we save the worst truths for the people we love most. Because their disappointment is the hardest to survive."
He turned his head to look at her then, eyes locking onto hers.
"I tried to get her to embrace who she was," Eva said. "But she was just too afraid. When she got married, I wasn't in support because I knew she was trying to bury that part of her… but she had her mind made up."
"She always had this smile, you know?" Eva added, almost to herself. "The kind that said 'I'm okay,' even when she wasn't. I hated it. And now… I'd give anything just to see it again."
Alex didn't say anything. He just looked at her.
The car came to a slow stop in front of Eva's house. She looked up at the familiar silhouette of the building.
She turned to Alex with a small, uncertain smile. "Want to come in for a cup of coffee?"
"Sure," he said easily.
They stepped out into the crisp afternoon air and walked side by side up the cobblestone path leading to the front porch.
"Nice house," he remarked.
"Thank you," Eva replied. "But you'll have to excuse the dusty smell. I'll have professionals in this weekend to clean up."
"Don't worry," Alex said as they crossed into the foyer. "You should see my house. It's an accident waiting to happen."
"Oh?" she said, raising a brow as she slipped off her coat. "Why?"
"I have a son who doesn't understand the concept of organization," he said as he followed her in. "I've got Legos on the stove, superhero capes in the fridge, and toy cars just waiting to murder me in the bathroom."
Eva laughed, the sound sudden and almost foreign in the quiet space. She hadn't laughed like that in ages. It bubbled up from her chest.
"It is a war zone," he said, grinning as he took in the living room. "There are mornings I step on a tiny sword and go straight from sleep to trauma."
"Sounds like parenting in a nutshell."
They moved into the kitchen. Eva filled the kettle while Alex leaned against the counter, watching her.
A few minutes later, Eva placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of Alex, setting it down gently on the smooth wooden breakfast table that still bore faint scratches from the past. She forced herself not to trace them with her fingertips as she slid into the seat beside him.
"So… how is your wife?" she asked.
Alex glanced at her over the rim of his mug, and a slow, knowing smile curled on his lips. "I like that. Sly."
Eva arched a brow. "What? I'm just trying to make conversation. You mentioned a kid, and I'm trying to be… hospitable."
He took a sip, clearly enjoying the dance of words. "Are you sure that's it? Or is this just a subtle way to figure out if there's a woman in the picture?"
"Why would that matter to me?" Eva replied smoothly, her fingers curled loosely around her own mug, though her pulse picked up.
"Why shouldn't it?" he asked, setting the cup down, the clink loud in the silence that followed.
Eva scoffed softly, lifting the mug to her lips as she feigned indifference. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. It's a perfectly legit question. You mentioned a son, I asked for a wife. That's basic human curiosity, not romantic scheming."
"Uh-huh… keep telling yourself that," Alex said, clearly entertained.
Eva shook her head with a half-smile. "You sound like a man who has women falling at his feet."
"I try not to trip over them," he quipped.
"If you must know," she added, setting her mug down with a slight thud, "I'm not that kind of woman. Men have to work hard for me."
Alex leaned in slightly. "Then tell me," he said, "how many times have you been fucked since your divorce?"
Eva was stunned by the casual way he said it. Her stomach tightened because his audacity tapped into something raw she hadn't looked at in a long time.
"I beg your pardon?" she said, though her voice betrayed a flicker of amusement beneath the shock.
Alex met her eyes. "I'm just saying… you walk like someone who's used to being touched. But then your body language tells a different story. It's like you forgot what it feels like to be seen."
"None… the answer is none. Since the divorce." Eva whispered. Her fingers curled tighter around her mug as if it could anchor her.
Across the table, Alex leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation. Before he could offer a response, a shift in his gaze brought sudden alertness to his features.