It's been three days.

Three damn days and I haven't heard a word from her. No reply to my texts and no answering my calls. It's getting too much now.

Evelyn, what the hell are you doing to me?

As I lay down in bed- which feels uncomfortable without her next to me- I try calling her one more time.

I haven't slept since she left and the only reason I ate is because Lee's parents had invited us over for dinner two nights in a row. They're​ probably worried about me and I couldn't say no to them no matter what I was going through. They asked about Evelyn. That made it even worse and I totally froze up.

Lee came up with some lie and they bought it and moved on with the conversation. What would I do without him? There's no way I could tell them that I cheated on Evelyn and now some girl is pregnant with my baby.

I shake my head to get rid of those thoughts while the phone just keeps ringing with no answer.

Pick up, damn it! But she doesn't. She doesn't want to talk.

I agreed I would give her time but not anymore. Three days feel like months and to me that is a shit load of time. I grab the keys to my van and run out the house.

I'm going to get her back.

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I sigh as I look at my phone and see that Marcel was calling again. I could hear my phone ringing in my room as I sat in the dining room with my parents.

My dad is finally home and Mom and I had made him his favorite- blueberry pancakes with peanut butter and a tall glass of orange juice. I swear he's like a six year old. And he's the only person I know who can eat something like that.

The phone keeps ringing and the talking at the table stops. I pale at the awkward silence.

"Talk to him," my dad says. He looks at me in a way that tells me he's sure of what he was saying so I ran upstairs to answer the phone. Unfortunately, I miss the call.

I'm​ about to call him back when someone drives up to the house. I look through the window to see who it is. When I do, I put the phone down and run downstairs.

"Be nice, Evelyn. I'm serious," Mom says in a stern voice as I approach her. Ever since I told her that I don't like the guy's attitude she's been making it her duty for me to see that I'm wrong. But she's telling me to be nice like I'm gonna pounce on the guy.

"Nicholas, what a surprise it is to see you here!" she exclaims, pulling him in for a hug the moment she opens the door.

"Hi, Mrs Brady."

"How are you? How's Luther and Cara?"

"I'm okay. The parents are great too. Mother's kind of bummed that you haven't called her all week to let her know how you-"

"Oh that's good, that's good," she interrupts. That's good? Did she hear what he just said?

"Why are you here?" I cross my arms over my chest and ask. Mom opens her mouth to scold me no doubt.

He smiles and interrupts my mother. "To see you. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour at the supermarket."

"Apology accepted. You can go now."

"No. I think you have the wrong impression of me. I'd like a chance to speak to you," he says.

Rich and snobby is who he is. I know his type. He's the type of person who uses their wealth and power to get what they want. They don't care who they hurt. I've disliked his type ever since Marcel told me what happened with his parents.

I'm about to voice my thoughts but then my mother speaks for me instead. "Sure, she'd like that."

I shoot her a look then look back at Nick who's standing there smiling his rich face off. I feel my mother nudge me in the side before going back inside the house and closing the door, leaving me and Nick on the porch.

That woman could drive me crazy.

We sit on the porch and I give him a chance to talk.

"Why do you hate me? You don't even know me," he starts. I immediately feel a stab of guilt. I don't usually get all judgemental​on people. I find myself giving him a chance to tell me who he really is, if not the stuck-up-pretty-rich-boy.

As I sit here I realize that I had totally misjudged him. Maybe he isn't a total snob. He's surprisingly easy to talk to. After getting me to loosen up and listen to him, he begins to tell me about his family and their companies.

His family wants him to follow in his father's footsteps and become a doctor but when he told them he refused to, they started pressuring him to take over some other family business but he says he isn't ready. They've been putting a lot of pressure on him and it has him tense. That's why he flipped at me in the supermarket. Or so he says.

"I promise you, I'm not usually a dick. And I want to tell you this....well because....I find you interesting," he says.

"Interesting?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yes. Interesting. Most women I meet pretend to like me because of my wealth. It never feels genuine with them."

"And what? I'm interesting because I make it clear that I don't like you?"

He smiles and nods. "Something like that."

"How do you know my mother?" I ask, recalling their greeting earlier. They seem very familiar with each other. When I ask the question he looks a bit uncomfortable. Or is it just in my head?

"Funny you should ask that. She ran into my mother - kind of how you ran into me- while shopping for father's day gifts last year. They asked each other for advice on what to get their husbands, found themselves talking about soap operas and other middle aged women things. When they realized they had the same tastes they quickly became friends."

I laugh. "That is my mother for you. Both Mom and Dad are good at making friends."

"And what about you?"

"Me? I have the same friends I've had since college. They're the best. I don't need anymore."

He stares at me for a while longer than necessary. I clear my throat. "So is it an everyday occurrence, you running​ out in the middle of the road?"

"Absolutely," he says with a laugh.

We sit there for hours talking because I couldn't bring myself to tell him to leave just yet.

Then I see a familiar van coming up the road and I know this moment is over.

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