Evin lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “I just need to get out of here.”
Jonas didn’t hesitate. “Then come on. It’s freezing out here.” He stood, holding the car door open for her. She hesitated only for a moment, but when the wind picked up, biting through her sweater, she got up and slid into the passenger seat.
The streets widened as they drove toward Sandstone Cove. The mansions, hidden behind towering gates, reminded Evin of a world she would never fully belong to. Bas’s world. Jonas’s world. A world where everything looked pristine and effortless, even though she knew better.
The wrought-iron gates of Jonas’s house opened silently as he pulled into the long driveway. The golden glow of the outdoor lights bathed the property in warmth, the pool shimmered under the moonlight, and the perfectly manicured gardens looked like something out of a dream.
“Welcome to the land of excess,” Jonas said dryly. “Been a while since you’ve been here.”
“Measuring dicks on a whole different level,” Evin muttered, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“No kidding.” Jonas chuckled. “If our house was even slightly smaller, my dad would probably break out in hives.” He shrugged, stepping out of the car. “But hey, at least the pool’s nice. And the firepit. And, you know, beer pong works great here too.” He shot her a wink.
Evin rolled her eyes, ignoring the joke as she followed him inside. “You rich kids are weird.”
“Weird, but charming,” he countered with a grin, making her let out a quiet, unwilling laugh.
Inside, the house was as impressive as ever— high ceilings, open spaces, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the pool outside. But the lounge Jonas led her to was different. Warm. Lived-in. A massive couch sat in front of a crackling fireplace, shelves stacked with books and vinyl records lining the walls.
“Sit,” Jonas said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Evin sank intothe couch, which swallowed her like a cloud. Her thoughts were still loud, but the warmth of the room and Jonas’s quiet presence made it a little easier to breathe. When he returned, he carried two plates, sushi arranged perfectly on each.
“Not homemade,” he admitted, “but at least well-ordered.”
Evin stared at him, surprised. “You just had this in your fridge?”
“Of course. You know how we rich people are. We stock up—just in case, someone randomly craves a tuna roll at two in the morning.”
She let out a small, genuine laugh, and Jonas grinned, clearly satisfied.
“Thanks, Jonas.”
“For the sushi?” He raised a brow. “Anytime.”
“No.” She hesitated. “For this.”
His expression softened. “You know you don’t have to do this alone, right?”
Her stomach tightened. “Sometimes it feels easier that way. At least then I don’t drag anyone else down with me.”
Jonas set his plate aside and leaned in slightly. “That’s bullshit, Evin. You have every right to be angry, to be hurt, to fall apart. But you don’t get to convince yourself you have to do it alone.”
“I just…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
Jonas’s voice was quiet, but firm. “You know what I see? Someone who’s been through hell and is still here. That’s not weakness. That’s strength.”
His words cracked something inside her. The tears came suddenly, hot and unstoppable, and she buried her face in her hands. Jonas didn’t say anything— just pulled her closer and let her cry.
She felt sorry that their friendship had grown apart. But maybe that’s what made this moment hit even harder—knowing that, after everything, she could still rely on him.
“Everything’s so fucked up,” she choked out eventually. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
“You don’t have to fix anything,” Jonas murmured. “Sometimes, things just take time. And sometimes, you just need people who remind you that you’re not alone.”
His words settled deep in her chest. Eventually, drained from crying, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. The warmth of the fire, the steady rhythm of his breathing— for a moment, the world felt quiet.
__________
