For weeks he had avoided Evey because of what he'd done and the look he hadn't wanted to see on her face once she'd found out. He'd kept himself away, and now she was gone. Brows crashing together like a derailed freight train, Aidan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. A hand wiped over his mouth.
He'd lost Evey.
The words she'd said, that the memories were all there, that the two of them were merged into one, was not ignored. He rolled it through his head to try to figure out what that might mean, but he kept coming back to the fact that it seemed apparent to him which Evey was in the forefront. It was not his Evey who was sitting here in front of him now, she was gone. This Evey - the only Evey now - might have the memories, might have in some way shared the time at the festival and everything else, but it was not her. This Evey belonged to Preston.
And he hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye.
She'd never seen the inside of his fancy apartment. They hadn't spent a night together since they'd been in the City. He'd wasted his time with her, he'd wasted every opportunity he'd had. They'd been brought together above all odds and he'd squandered it. He could feel the hot tears beginning to burn his eyes and did nothing to try to stop them.