Chapter 49: Her Return
Ezra hadn’t realized just how loud silence could be until Evie left.
On that quiet Sunday morning, he stepped into the kitchen, the house utterly still. There was no soft humming from her as she put her hair up, nor the familiar scent of her coffee, always overloaded with vanilla syrup. Just silence.
He stood at the coffee machine, a steaming mug in hand, dressed in a grey sweatshirt and soft joggers. Casual, comfortable, yet uncharacteristically restless. The warm cup did little to compensate for the coldness left in Evie’s absence. She had said she would be gone for a day or two, but the house already felt too vast.
He took a sip. The coffee was, unsurprisingly, excellent—but it was missing its usual flavor without her, barefoot, teasing him for his preference for black coffee.
Her words replayed in his mind, a smile creeping up on his lips. "I’m heading to Ruby’s for a while," Evie had told him.
With a raised brow, he had asked her back, "Running away from me?"
Evie had only shrugged. "Maybe," she said, playing along. Then, in a softer tone, she added, "Or maybe I just need some best friend therapy."
Ezra had locked eyes with her, lingering a moment longer. "Fair enough," he replied. "Just don’t forget to miss me." Her eye roll had made him chuckle.
Now, however, those memories were eclipsed by the silence of her absence. He hadn’t truly missed anyone in a long time, but now it hit him hard—he really felt Evie’s absence. After rinsing his mug, he started to leave the kitchen when he noticed Sam, his butler, arranging fresh flowers in a vase.
"You’re replacing the lilies?" Ezra asked, narrowing his eyes at the man.
Sam looked up, offering a polite smile. "Miss Evie prefers tulips."
Ezra blinked. "She mentioned that?" It was evident he hadn’t paid enough attention; he registered now that she preferred tulips over lilies. He had learned quite a bit about Evie, yet this detail had escaped him, making him aware that he needed to pay closer attention.
"A few days ago," Sam replied with a nod. "She said lilies felt too formal—cold, I believe were her exact words."
Ezra chuckled lightly. "Of course she did."
Sam hesitated, then continued, "If I may, sir...the house has been unusually quiet since she left."
Ezra was silent at first, then spoke up, "She alters the rhythm of things, doesn’t she?"
Sam nodded. "Some people bring noise; others bring presence. Miss Evie does... both."
Ezra smirked, "That sounds like her."
They shared a light chuckle, and for a moment, silence reigned—a comfortable silence this time. Ezra finally declared, "I’ll be upstairs."
Sam, now gathering the flowers again, replied, "Of course, sir," and bowed as Ezra slipped his hands into his pockets and headed up the staircase. He didn’t have anything pressing to do, but felt the need to find something to occupy himself and break the spell of boredom enveloping him.
He wandered into his room, making his way to his office corner where his desk and chair sat. He sat down, opened his laptop, and logged in. As always, his inbox flooded with emails beckoned him, but he only skimmed over a few, flagged some, deleted junk, and paused on a forwarded message—a news feature that praised the launch.
Later, he picked up a pitch deck from his desk and flipped through the slides with one hand, his eyes glazing over. Numbers, visuals, projections... all blurred into white noise. He closed the file in frustration.
Deciding it was time to clean, regardless of how tidy his space already was, he meticulously organized everything on his desk, tossing out irrelevant items and decluttering the cupboards. As he cleaned the last cupboard, his eyes landed on a small object— a photo booth strip from Paris. Evie had insisted on taking it. Her crooked, perfect smile in the last frame sparked a fond memory.
That day in Paris had marked a turning point for both of them; it was the moment Ezra began to truly see her. He had felt a shift in his heart, a realization that couldn’t be ignored.
He had stayed away from her, when he feared there was something shifting between the two of them, but now, he refused to let it define him anymore.
He set the photo prominently on the table and moved on to the rest of his tasks. By the time he finished, he groaned in exhaustion.
But seriously... What was life like back then?
Without Evie and everything in between them?
He remembered burying himself in work—day and night, without a moment’s pause. Hobbies? He had none. He was a workaholic, plain and simple.
But having Evie around, He found himself watching movies on his own television—something he rarely did, only when Shane was around. Otherwise, he was stuck reading books or glued to his computer screen. He realized just how dull he had allowed himself to become. But could he really be blamed? It had always been like that since childhood. He had no fun, just study. And now, he was still living the same life.
He glanced at his phone, checking the message he had sent Evie that morning.
An impulse struck him to send another message to the one that had gone unanswered: "You good?" He intended it to sound casual.
But no reply came. When he checked her status, he noticed she was offline.
"Fuck" he thought.
Eventually, Ezra was with the game controller, his focus on the screen as he played an action game. It had been ages since he’d played, usually with Shane. He had just uncovered the controller in the cupboard and dove back into gaming.
After a while, as he defeated the boss, he heard his headset ringing. His gaze darted to the phone, revealing Shane’s call.
He removed the headphones and answered.
"What’s up?" Ezra asked, leaning against the couch.
"Not much. Just hanging at the bar," Shane replied, and Ezra could hear the clamor in the background.
"Sounds thrilling," Ezra muttered, his tone dry.
"What’s going on with you?" Shane inquired, sensing something was off.
"I’m not doing great," Ezra admitted bluntly.
Instead of expressing concern, Shane burst out laughing. Ezra’s irritation flared. "Did you have a fight with your girl?" Shane joked.
"Nope. She’s not home," Ezra sighed.
"So you’re bored and missing her?" Shane teased further.
Ezra remained quiet.
"Wow. I never expected this day would come. What did Red do to you? You’ve completely changed." Shane’s teasing tone grated on Ezra’s nerves.
Ezra’s voice turned cold. "I’m the only one who gets to call her that," he warned.
"Chill, man. Anyway, what are you doing right now?" Shane shifted to a more sincere tone.
Ezra glanced at the game controller again. "Playing games."
"Games? To deal with boredom? She’s really got you wrapped around her finger," Shane cackled.
Ezra didn’t respond. "It’s good you found that controller; you said you wouldn’t need it when I bought it," Shane reminded him, amused.
"Babe..." a woman’s voice interrupted on Shane’s end, enticingly close.
"Have you gotten yourself a girlfriend?" Ezra raised an eyebrow.
"Me? Don’t be ridiculous," Shane chuckled, and Ezra rolled his eyes. He knew Shane wasn’t the commitment type, only interested in flings. Teasing him was too easy.
"Hey, I have to run. Don’t get too bored, okay? We’ll catch up later," Shane said, and the call disconnected, leaving Ezra in silence.
He checked his messages for Evie again. No response yet, but suddenly saw she was typing. He sat up.
"I’m fine... I went to check on my mom today. We had a lot to catch up on, so I couldn’t respond earlier," Evie explained.
"That’s fine. How’s she doing?" Ezra shot back, his response almost immediate, catching Evie off guard.
"She’s doing well, thanks for asking," Evie replied. "I’ll be on my way now, Ezra" she texted.
Ezra’s mood lifted instantly. "What are you planning to eat?"
"Just something light, Ezra. I had plenty at mom’s," Evie chuckled, adding a laughing emoji.
"Got it," he responded. He wanted to type, "Can’t wait to see you," but Evie’s message came in quickly.
"So... see you at home," she said before going offline.
Ezra decided against sending his earlier thought and deleted it. Instead, he got to work immediately. Even though Evie would be back later, he wanted everything prepared and perfect for her return.
The kitchen was quiet, illuminated by the soft under-cabinet lights and the flicker of the gas flame. Ezra rolled his sleeves up and reached for the tomatoes—vibrant, ripe, and ready.
He rinsed them under the tap, the cool water refreshing against his hands as he worked in focused silence. She had said, *"Just something light,"* and he wanted to make it just right.
He chopped the tomatoes, garlic, onions, and fresh basil, all with precision. As the olive oil warmed in the pot, the aroma of garlic fillewere d the air, followed by the scent of caramelizing onions. He added the tomatoes, stirring gently while they simmered into a rich and hearty sauce.
Next, he heated a skillet for grilled cheese sandwiches. He took slices of sourdough, lightly buttered, and layered them with sharp cheddar and mozzarella. Pressing them together firmly, he placed them on the pan, allowing them to crisp to golden perfection.
Ezra poured chamomile tea he had steeped earlier into two matching mugs—one with a dash of honey, just the way Evie liked it, and the other left plain.
With the soup nearly finished, he used the immersion blender to smooth it out, adding a splash of cream and fresh basil at the end. He tasted it—perfectly balanced, rich but not heavy.
He arranged two plates: a generous bowl of creamy tomato soup, a perfectly grilled cheese sandwich cut diagonally, and a sprig of basil on top for the finishing touch.
He loaded the tray with everything, adding the mugs, and before stepping out of the kitchen, he retrieved a small bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries from the fridge, placing it on the tray as well.
The table was set—simple yet elegant. A crisp linen runner down the center, two plates, water glasses, and the warm glow of a pendant light overhead.
He approached the table and methodically laid everything out.
First, the bowls of steaming tomato basil soup, followed by the grilled cheese sandwiches, neatly cut into triangles right beside the bowls.
Finally, he positioned the bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries in the center.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Ezra glanced at the door, a smile forming on his lips. "She’s already back?" he thought to himself, relieved he had finished everything before her arrival.
The butler moved to the door, having received a nod of approval from Ezra. He opened it, while Ezra took a moment to adjust the napkin on the table.
"Miss Dawn?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the smirk on Dawn’s face—and she wasn’t alone. Sam’s gaze shifted to the child peering up at him with wide eyes.
"Step aside, Sam," Dawn commanded, her voice authoritative as always. When Sam hesitated, recalling Ezra’s orders, Dawn pushed past him boldly, guiding her son inside.
Ezra lifted his gaze just in time to feel his smile slip away, his forehead creasing and jaw tightening as he met Dawn’s eyes.
She nudged her son forward, and he rushed toward Ezra, shouting, "Daddy!" with delighted glee.