The cloud-white tile of Evander's guest bathroom, which was currently my temporary domain, was proving stubbornly resistant to my efforts. It should be pristine, a perfect match for the minimalist aesthetic I demanded, but a faint yellowish stain clung near the grout line. I'd used industrial-strength cleaning solutions, but the discoloration remained. Frustrated, I pulled out my phone and placed an urgent order for specialized oxidization chemicals designed specifically to brighten ancient flooring. The renovation of my own home was a necessary distraction, but keeping my temporary quarters flawless was a matter of principle.
I was meticulously wiping down the large, reflective surface of the mirror—a habit, really, since I couldn't stand fingerprints—when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I quickly dried my hands on a fresh towel and pulled it out. The text was from Evander. I squinted at the message, a sudden flicker of concern replacing my domestic focus. He usually didn't text with such curt urgency.
Evander: 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓽 𝓙𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓷 8.
I typed back instantly, wondering if he was attempting some ill-advised, spontaneous intervention regarding her health.
Me: 𝓦𝓱𝔂?
Evander: 𝓣𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸...
The ellipsis hung there, pregnant with potential disaster. I knew what he meant: convince her to let him stay tonight, likely using the absurd "sleepwalking" lie we concocted earlier. My mind immediately went to the logistics of his plan.
Me: 𝓞𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻?
Evander: 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓹 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓮𝓼
I shook my head, a small, internal laugh escaping. Evander thought he needed emotional backup, but what he needed was a strategically placed distraction. And knowing Juliet's irrational dislike of me, my presence was a liability, not an asset.
Me: 𝓘𝓯 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓪𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝓮
Evander: 𝓦𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷
The simplicity of his suggestion was almost commendable, but Juliet was far too perceptive. The second she saw me, her guard would be up, questioning why I wasn't at my own house. The truth, of course, was that my house was currently being "gutted" on Evander's protective order, a fact I was more than happy to leverage.
Me: 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝔀𝓪𝔂
Evander: 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓷𝓸 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮
My cleaning rag dropped onto the floor. No choice. That phrase, coming from Evander, could mean anything from subtle emotional blackmail to a truly terrible, impulsive decision. He was desperate, and desperate men made stupid mistakes. His immediate priority was Juliet's safety, and he was clearly willing to disregard all rules of social conduct to ensure it.
Me: 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓪𝓹 𝓱𝓮𝓻???
I was half-joking, but the sheer anxiety in my stomach told me I wasn't far off the mark.
Evander: 𝓦𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓮𝓮
Me: 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 4 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼
Evander: 𝓢𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 3 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 59 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓽𝓮𝓼
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, the metallic chill of the bathroom suddenly feeling much warmer. Chatting with him usually did give me a strange relief from all my corporate loads; he was a predictable, high-speed disaster, which contrasted neatly with the meticulous precision of my own life. But the thought of him saying, "Then we will leave her with no choice," gave me pause.
We were going to Juliet's house under the pretense of celebrating her engagement, armed with lies about drunkenness and sleepwalking, all to protect her from a dangerous neurological condition. If Evander escalated this into a genuine confrontation, where he felt the need to emotionally corner his sister, the fragile trust holding their relationship together—and the entire protective plan—could collapse spectacularly. I realized my true role tonight wasn't to help him convince her, but to keep Evander from making things irreversibly worse. I needed to be the cooler head in this engineered crisis.