But he looked the same. Nothing about him had changed. The same face that had been handsome to her, but could only truly be called rugged. The same brown hair he kept cut short so it didn’t curl. Even the same traces of gray at his temples and the sun-worn creases at the corners of his green eyes. The same. And the same awful blow of awareness she always felt near him, though it hit her in a sore spot now, a place that had only just started to heal. Eve stared, lips parted, the sudden shock to her nerves beginning to turn cold beneath her skin. “Brian?” she whispered, as if every part of her didn’t ache with the knowledge that he was only five feet away. “I tried to call,” he said. His eyes shifted toward the sky and he shook his head. “I mean, I tried and couldn’t seem to do it. I didn’t know what to say.” “What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.
