This Beautiful Chaos, Chapter 5

What Makes Sense Doesn’t Matter

The weight of it had been pressing against my ribs for days. That little voice in my head, the one that had always been there, whispering that this was temporary. That I was temporary.

That Evan, bright, wild, thirty-three-year-old Evan, was here because it was fun, because it was new. But he wouldn’t stay.

He couldn’t stay.

Not when I was forty, with kids and a life already built. Not when he had years ahead of him, a whole world to explore, and a million different versions of himself still waiting to unfold.

And so, when it finally broke out of me, it wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t measured. It was messy and panicked, like trying to hold back an avalanche with bare hands.

“You’re gonna wake up one day and realize this was a mistake.”

Evan blinked, caught completely off guard. He had been stretched out on my couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, absently tuning his guitar. The second I spoke, his fingers froze over the strings.

“What?”

I swallowed, forcing my arms tighter around myself, my nails digging into my skin. “Us. This. You and me. It’s not…” My voice wavered, but I pushed through. “I’m dumb for thinking a thirty-three-year-old would… even think… to be romantically involved with someone my age.”

Evan sat up immediately, his brows knitting together. “Megan…”

“I mean, be serious, Evan. You could have anyone,” I laughed hollowly, my voice cracking. “You should have someone younger, someone who isn’t…”

“Stop.”

The word was quiet but firm, and it made my stomach drop.

Evan set his guitar down slowly, deliberately, before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looked at me.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “Tell me where this is coming from.”

I shook my head, biting my lip, trying to keep the sting of tears at bay. “It’s just…” I exhaled, laughing humorlessly. “It’s reality, Evan.”

His jaw tensed. “Reality, huh?”

“Yes.” I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though it hurt. “In a few years, I’ll be pushing fifty, and you’ll be in your early forties. You don’t see the problem with that?”

“No.” He stood up, closing the space between us in two slow, deliberate steps. “Do you?”

“Evan…”

“I’m asking you,” he interrupted, his voice quiet but insistent. “Is it you that has the problem with this, or are you just assuming I do?”

I swallowed hard, hating the way his words burrowed under my skin, hitting nerves I didn’t want touched.

“You deserve someone who…”

“You,” he said again, stepping even closer. “Megan, look at me.”

I did. And fuck, the way he was looking at me… like I was the only person in the world, made my stomach flip in a way that scared the hell out of me.

His voice dropped lower, softer. “You keep talking about what I deserve, like I don’t have a goddamn say in it.”

I clenched my jaw. “I just…”

“No, let’s break this down,” he said, tilting his head. “You think I should be with someone my age? Someone younger?”

I huffed. “It would make sense.”

Evan smirked, but there was nothing amused about it. “So I should be with a twenty-eight-year-old who doesn’t know who the hell she is? Who hasn’t lived? Who doesn’t challenge me, call me on my bullshit, or make me laugh so hard I forget my own goddamn name?”

I blinked, my breath catching.

His smirk faded, his expression softening. “Megan. I don’t want younger. I want you.”

My throat tightened, my whole body tensed like a live wire. “You say that now,” I whispered. “But what happens when you don’t?”

Evan exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Then, before I could react, he reached out and cupped my face. His hands warm and solid, grounding me as his eyes burned into mine.

“Megan, listen to me,” he murmured. “I know what I want. And I want this.” His thumb brushed against my cheek, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down my spine. “You. Me. Whatever the hell we’re doing.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“I need you to believe me,” he whispered.

I exhaled, shaky and uneven, and let my hands settle against his chest, gripping his shirt like I needed something to hold onto.

His forehead pressed against mine, and for a long moment, we just stood there, breathing each other in.

“I don’t care about anyone else,” he murmured. “I don’t care what makes sense. I care about us.”

I let out a trembling breath, and Evan pulled back just enough to look at me again.

“Are you gonna believe me,” he asked, voice soft, “or do I need to spend the rest of my life proving it?”

I huffed out a wet laugh, shaking my head. “That’s a pretty big commitment.”

He smirked. “Lucky for you, I’m a persistent asshole.”

I bit my lip, fighting back a grin, and he chuckled, kissing my forehead before pulling me into a hug.

And for the first time in days, the weight on my chest felt just a little lighter.