Lost Encounter

Chapter 1

​It all started with something small— a chance encounter at her friend Marianne’s condo in Charlestown. 

​ ​Marianne had been Evelyn's best friend for the past ten years, since they roomed together their freshmen year at Boston University. That was also where Evelyn knew Chris from. Evelyn hadn't been a huge fan of Chris when Marianne first started dating him during their senior year - but he'd grown on her over the years. The condo was actually Chris and Marianne's. They'd bought it together last year shortly after the wedding - with a generous gift from Chris's parents as the down-payment. It was a gorgeous two-story penthouse with breathtaking views of the Zakim Bride from their fifth floor roof deck. 

​ ​Evelyn wasn't sure how they managed the monthly payments on Chris's salary as a product manager for DraftKings and Marianne's as a marketing associate at HubSpot. Yet somehow, to top it off, they also managed to host parties there almost every weekend. They'd been hosting parties like these together since they moved into their apartment in Sommerville a year after graduation. Evelyn was a fixture at the parties back in those days, but her attendance had waned over time as the guest list had morphed from single BU alumni like Evelyn into couples that Marianne and Chris knew from work. But Marianne had pressured Evelyn to come on this night last August, promising there would be plenty of single men there eager to sweep her off her feet. 

​ ​The condo was already buzzing when Evelyn arrived, the hum of voices and laughter spilling out into the hallway before she even knocked. Evelyn had gone expecting little more than a night of half-hearted smiles and strained conversation, already rehearsing her excuses to leave early, the kind of social obligation she endured more for Marianne’s sake than her own. As she entered the party, Marianne swept up to her almost at once, glowing and flushed with hostess energy, pressing a drink into her hand before Evelyn had a chance to get her bearings. Evelyn raised the glass with a nod, masking the fact that she was already calculating how long she’d need to stay before her absence would be forgiven.

​ ​“Oh my god, I'm so glad you came!" Marianne said, squeezing Evelyn’s arm. "Listen, I’ve got to run back to the kitchen for a minute to get the stuffed mushrooms out of the oven, but promise me you won’t slip out before I introduce you to Chris’s friend Kyle—you’ll like him!”

​ ​“Kyle, right—can’t wait,” Evelyn replied, batting her lashes in mock drama to coax a laugh from her oldest friend. Marianne laughed on queue, shaking her head before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Evelyn adrift in a sea of relative strangers with nothing but her drink to anchor her. 

​ ​She swirled her drink absently, her eyes drifting across the room searching for a group of Marianne and Chris’s friends she knew well enough to latch onto. Her gaze landed on Marianne’s friend Jenna, who was half-distracted by her phone and might not mind the company. Evelyn had just started toward her when a man brushed past her from behind, so close that his shoulder grazed hers, and she turned instinctively to find eyes she didn’t recognize fixed on her.

​ ​His expression was unreadable—somewhere between apology and amusement—as though he’d meant to catch her attention all along. “I’m guessing you didn’t come here tonight hoping to meet Kyle,” he said, a wry edge in his tone.

​ ​Evelyn let out a short laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

  ​“Sorry,” he said quickly, lifting a hand as if in defense. “I wasn’t trying to listen in—it’s just you were kind of blocking the doorway. I’m Nathan, by the way.” 

​“Blocking doorways is sort of my specialty,” she quipped, then added, “I’m Evelyn.”

​​“Evelyn,” he repeated, as though testing the sound of it. “Not exactly a name you forget in a crowd like this.”  ​​

​​Evelyn took him in—tall, with a lean frame and dark hair that fell just enough out of place to suggest he didn’t care to tame it. There was an undeniable pull to him—older, she thought, but in the kind of way that made the others in the room look unfinished by comparison. She gave a soft laugh. “Well, I’ll try to live up to it. Are you a friend of Chris's, or…?”

​ ​“Friend might be a generous word,” he said with a grin. "Only kidding—Chris is great. So, how do you know Marianne?”

​ ​The conversation slipped into an easy rhythm after that, surprising Evelyn with how natural it felt. They moved from one topic to the next without effort, and though the music and chatter of the party swelled around them, Evelyn found herself barely noticing. Minutes might have passed, or hours—she couldn’t be sure. That may have been, in part, because they had found their way over to the punch. How many times had she refilled her glass? They might have gone on talking all night, but the sudden appearance of Marianne with a man in tow cut the moment clean in half.

​​“Evelyn!” Marianne beamed, tugging forward a broad-shouldered man with a too-bright smile. “Finally, I want you to meet Kyle.” It was only then that Evelyn noticed the warmth of Nathan’s hand, warm against her side, but in the next moment it was gone. She glanced back at Nathan just in time to see him stepping away, tipping his glass toward her in a small salute before disappearing into the crowd. The casual gesture felt strangely final, as if he’d closed a door she hadn’t realized they’d opened.

​​“So, Evelyn,” Kyle said brightly, his grip already closing around hers before she’d fully turned back.

​ ​The rest of the night would prove to be as forgettable as Kyle himself, despite his best efforts to charm her with frat-boy bravado. Evelyn had learned long ago that Marianne’s matchmaking almost always came packaged in the form of men like him. Kyle’s chatter seemed endless—weekend trips, office gossip, gym routines—all of it blurring into a single tedious hum. At last she excused herself under the pretense of needing another drink, relieved when he didn’t insist on following.

​​She threaded her way back through the crowded rooms, scanning faces with the hope of spotting Nathan. It didn’t take long for disappointment to set in—Nathan had slipped out without a word. She checked her phone, startled to see how late it had gotten, and decided it was her turn to slip away too. She offered a vague wave toward Marianne  across the room, though she doubted her friend even saw it before she let herself out.