“I promise you, Adam, that when I think about men, I only have one in mind, so you don’t have to worry about me dating someone else.” I offer him a soft smile to ease his sadness and pick out a small familiar metallic, circular ring before I continue, “I just need some time off, but I’m willing to give us a chance if you’re willing to wait for me.”
“I’ll wait for however long it takes.” He eyes me softly as he admit, “You’re it for me whether you like it or not. Always have been and always will be.”
With a wide cheek-aching grin on my plum face, I remove my hand from his, put on the ring on my ring finger, turn my back to him and walk away from this house towards a cab that’ll take me to Lexi’s to say my goodbye before driving me back to the city.
Back to where it all started.
Epilogue
Adam’s POV
It’s been six months since Evangeline left. Six freaking months have passed ever since I’ve last seen her. When she told me she’s leaving the city, I think I would’ve actually gone mental, but she saved me by her reassurance that she’ll come back. She tamed my protective instincts when she said and I quote ‘when I think about men, I only have one in mind’ and when she put on our engagement ring. I have to say that I totally understand why she wanted to take some time off, but I didn’t think she’ll be away for that long.
Now I think I’m really losing my mind.
Her absence is making me lose my fucking mind.
Even though we email each other from a time to the other because according to her that is way ‘cuter’ than texting and even though I call her at night sometimes after she finishes her working hours, I still miss her. At first, it was difficult: reminding myself that she’s no longer at my house with me, but, somehow, I think it was even more difficult for her and not just in the ‘living alone’ sense. A week after she arrived at Liverpool, she sent me a long email, explaining to me what exactly she felt after living there for seven days.
That was her first email:
Dear Adam,
It is a really strange and an unfamiliar feeling: waking up at this miniscule, one story apartment, which is absolutely nothing compared to your house, waiting for you to wake up so that we can have breakfast together only for my wishes to get buried in disappointment.
This happens every day.
I have to admit that, putting all my arrogance aside, I already miss you.
For as long as I can remember, my parents have been my life support, for they were the ones handling all my payments. Since I can’t really remember my childhood, I can only confirm this fact by what I really remember: my college years. My parents paid all my college expenses as well as everything I’ve ever bought in my life. At least, that was the case up till the minute I left London.
Returning to Liverpool has made me realise how hard it is to actually live; it made me realise how hard it is to work just in order to earn so that you can live a normal life. Before I left, I took what little yet sufficient savings I’ve piled up from my father’s money which was enough to get me renting up a small apartment in Liverpool. Realising that I wasn’t going to make it for more than a month without the slow disappearance of my savings, I decided to search for a job and since- you know- I graduated from medicine school in Oxford, I looked up for hospitals willing to hire a new inexperienced doctor and guess where I ended up working?
Royal Liverpool University Hospital.
The same hospital that took us in on the day of our accident.
Although I’m working there as a doctor’s helper, maybe even a nurse, I’m really happy with what I do. For the sole reason of my inexperience of being a doctor, the hospital decided to offer me the job, benefiting both them and me. As for them, they were in a real need of a nurse to aid both the injured and the ill patients, and as for me, other than the fact that I’m being paid a decent salary, I’d like to think of it as a training step for me before I become a real doctor, setting up a clinic of my own.
Don’t worry, though; when I set up my own clinic, it’ll be in London right next to you.
Even though many workers at the hospital would disagree with me, Adela and Seth are actually good people. Adela, who has a hilarious sense of humor, was the receptionist who greeted me at the hospital when I came by asking for questions about Evelyn, and Seth, who tried to help me that day, was –well- Seth. Never would I have ever thought that either of them would turn out to be my friend later on, but here we are. These two, though are my friends, have the most twisted sense of friendship because despite many people questioning if they’re truly friends, they actually are.
They just have a funny way of showing it, but I kind of think it’s cute.
No need to get jealous
