Not Today | ✔️

Chapter Twenty One.

"You're in my head
Always, always
I just got scared
Away, away..."

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"Where are we going?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Tristan said vaguely.

"What are you? The international man of mystery? Just tell me."

Evelyn's tone wasn't rude, as she spoke, it was tired, but her reply was met with silence.

She decided to ask again. "Where are we going, Tristan?"

"That's how I knew."

"What?"

"That's how I knew you were mad. You called me Tristan. Not Tris, or even Curly. Tristan."

Evelyn frowned. "I'm not mad."

Tristan grimaced. "Somehow, that's worse."

"Hmm?"

"If you're not mad, then that only leaves hurt and disappointed. I'd rather have you mad at me," he said.

"Why won't you tell me where we're going?" she asked, unsure of how to reply to his last sentence.

Tristan looked over at her, briefly, but in a way that spoke volumes. "Trust me."

Tristan couldn't continue staring at her, as he kept his eyes on the road, but she could... so she did.

Evelyn let her gaze drop to his fingers, wrapped around the steering wheel tightly. Her eyes traveled up the lean muscle of his forearms, disappearing into his white shirt, finally landing on his face. Tristan's jaw was clenched, his face looking slightly tense, but as painfully beautiful as ever. It was dark out, but street lights lined each side of the street, and as they drove forward, a mixture of light and shadows began to mingle, dancing upon his face. The light and dark almost appeared to duel, the shadows trying to veil his face in complete darkness while the light battled to erase all those shadows from his face. As the light and shadow traced his face, she briefly wished her hands could instead, but she expelled the thought immediately.

She glanced at his hair falling over his forehead, and though his new job required him to be without headwear, simply sitting in the car with her did not, it was a physical representation of a way he trusted her, and if he could trust her, she could trust him.

It wasn't long before they pulled into a driveway and parked, causing Evelyn to frown.

"Where are we?" Evelyn asked as Tristan unbuckled his seatbelt.

"My house," Tristan said before he exited the car.

Evelyn was too surprised to register that Tristan had walked around to her side of the car and opened the door for her.

As soon as she got out of the car, Tristan grabbed her hand and pulled her along, behind him, entering the empty house and trailing up the stairs. Picture frames lined the wall, making Evelyn feel like her heart was a balloon and each picture was air, making her heart inflate. The beautiful thing about the pictures was that they all seemed to be memories, some were even blurry, but the bright smiles in them were as clear as the sky on a summer day.

It wasn't hard to spot Tristan in the pictures, the mop of curly, brown hair unmistakable. His mom wasn't hard to spot, either, and not because she'd seen her before, but because Tristan had her same brown curls. Interestingly enough, the hardest person to recognize was Tristan's father, despite him literally working in their school. Evelyn had never seen Mr. Montgomery smile, but in these pictures, his smile was perhaps even brighter than Mrs. Montgomery and Tristan's. Her favorite had to be the one of Tristan and his mom, their cheeks pressed together, and both of them smiling brightly, her blue eyes shining and his brown eyes just as bright, despite the dark hue.