Scar on my Heart (Carmichael Series #3)✔️

Party Crasher

**I'M SORRY YA'LL HAD TO WAIT FOR THIS UPDATE. I know it was killing ya'll, but no fear this will for sure cheer you guys all up - well some of you at least. Some of you will be mad with how it plays out but oh well. Now, excuse me while I go and cry over my physiology notes and lab report I have to complete.**

Evan's POV

Hours dragged into days. Days dragged into weeks. Weeks dragged into months. Three to be exact. Three months. It's been three months since I've seen Scar, since I've heard his deep, unique voice, since he's touched me. Everyday seemed to drag on. Sometimes - a lot of the time - I wouldn't even get out of bed. Right after everything had happened, I'd had my dad go over and pack all of my things up and move the back home from Scar's apartment. My mom was originally supposed to go and help, but she was too angry to when the time came. She said for his and her sake, she needed to stay home.

I stopped going to work. I hardly ever ate, no matter how much my parents begged. Everything had just lost it's appeal. Except for sleeping. Sleeping was the only time I could get away from my life and not feel any pain. Even then, though, I'd have dreams of Scar and I. Smiling, cuddled up on the couch, joking around while I cooked. The only time I really smiled was when I got to see my nephew. His little baby giggles and constant blabbering were the only thing that could pull me from the confines of my bed nowadays.

I stared out the window, watching as the sun rose in the sky. Shades of pink, yellow, and orange flooded my room. They were a painful reminder that I was going to be forced from my safety and made to actually participate in human interaction today. As I forced my legs over the side of my bed, I dragged my feet as I made my way to my shower. I began the mundane task of washing my hair, my mind totally blank. Just the way I liked it. Everyday, no matter what, my thoughts always derailed to Scar. As painful as it is to admit, I still love him with my whole heart. Every night before bed I pray to God that this is all one bad dream, that I'll wake up the next morning wrapped in Scar's arms and he'll mutter that he loves me before going down on me.

I felt the tears coming fast as I cursed myself. I knew better than to let myself do this - think about him. It made me sick to my stomach.

I turned the water off when it had finally run cold, though it did feel nice. Being June in the south meant the weather was fucking searing hot. I wrapped a towel around my body before beginning the process of combing out the last few weeks worth of knots in my hair when my mother rushed into the bathroom.

"Oh, good! You're already up!" She exclaimed with a bright smile. I wasn't sure what to attribute it to: me finally being out of bed and awake before three in the afternoon, or the fact that today was Troy and Aurora's wedding day. Probably a little bit of both, truthfully. I just pursed my lips and nodded before going back to the task at hand.

"I've laid your dress out on the bed. Don't get changed just yet, we're going to eat as a family first." She ordered.

I nodded so that she knew I heard her. Once she left, I changed into the same large t-shirt of Scar's that I'd successfully stolen and a pair of sweatpant material shorts and slowly made my way to the kitchen. I brought my nose to my shoulder and took a deep breath, something that had become a habit. This was how I knew that I was going crazy, slowly but surely. There was one day I'd let my mom coax me out of my room to let her paint my nails and do a deep treatment hair mask on me. What I didn't know, was that she'd done it purposely so that my dad could sneak in, steal the shirt, and finally wash it. I was devastated. She'd single handedly removed every last trace of Scar from the fabric of the piece of clothing.

Yet I could still smell his manly scent if I focused hard enough.

"Big sister!" Troy hollered before bolting towards me and wrapping his arms around my torso. I lightly hugged him back before digging my nails in as he picked me up and swung me around, catching me off guard.