The next morning, the sun barely peeks over the horizon as Evangeline makes her way to the cemetery. The air is cool and crisp, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. Her footsteps are soft on the dewy grass as she approaches her mother's grave, a bouquet of white lilies clutched in her hand. She pauses in front of the tombstone, her heart aching as she reads the inscription for what must be the thousandth time.

Evangeline kneels down, placing the lilies gently at the base of the tombstone. She runs her fingers over the engraved letters, the cold stone a stark contrast to the warmth of her memories. Tears well up in her eyes, but she blinks them back, determined to hold herself together.

"Hi, Mama," She whispers, her voice trembling.

She takes a deep breath, the morning air filling her lungs, "I met someone. Well, sort of. She reminded me of you. Lonely, kind, but with a lot of pain. I couldn't take her money. I just couldn't."

Evangeline's eyes scan the cemetery, taking in the rows of tombstones. The stillness of the place feels almost sacred, a silent witness to her grief. She looks back at her mother's grave, tears now streaming down her face.

"I miss you so much."

Her voice breaks, and she presses a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Evangeline's mind drifts back to the last days of her mother's life, the hospital visits, the endless tests and treatments. She remembers holding her mother's hand, promising her that everything would be okay, even though she knew it was a promise she couldn't keep.

"I think about you every day," She continues, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think about all the things you taught me. I try to live by that, Mama. I really do. But sometimes, it feels like the world is too heavy, and I'm just...tired."

Evangeline pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. The wind picks up, and she shivers, but she doesn't move. She needs to be here, to feel close to her mother, even if it's just for a little while.

"I met this man," She says, a small, sad smile playing on her lips, "Logan."

She wipes her tears away, though they keep coming, a relentless flood of grief and longing, "I wish you could meet him. I wish you were here to see all the things I'm doing. To tell me if I'm making the right choices. I need you, Mama. I need your guidance."

Evangeline's thoughts turn to the life she's built, the walls she's erected around herself to keep from feeling too much, too deeply. She thinks about the old woman from yesterday, the loneliness in her eyes, and how it mirrored her own, "I'm trying to be strong, like you always told me to be. But it's so hard without you here. I don't know if I'm doing this right. I don't know if you'd be proud of me."

The morning sun rises higher, casting long shadows over the cemetery. Evangeline stays there, lost in her memories, her heart aching with a grief that never truly fades. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small photograph of her and her mother, taken years ago on a sunny day in the park. She places it gently at the base of the tombstone, her fingers lingering on the image.

"I love you, Mama," She whispers, her voice filled with raw emotion.

She closes her eyes, letting the tears flow freely, her body wracked with sobs. The weight of her grief feels almost unbearable, but she clings to the memories of her mother, the love and warmth that have always been her anchor.

As the sun climbs higher, the cemetery begins to stir with life. Birds chirp in the trees, and the distant hum of the city grows louder. Evangeline knows she needs to leave, to return to the world and the life she's built. But for now, she allows herself this moment of vulnerability, this connection to the woman who gave her life and taught her how to live it.

Finally, she stands, her legs stiff and unsteady. She brushes the grass from her clothes and takes one last look at her mother's grave.

"I'll come back soon," She promises, "I'll always come back."

With a heavy heart, she turns and walks away, each step feeling like a struggle. The world feels a little colder, a little lonelier without her mother, but she carries the warmth of her memories with her, a light in the darkness.

Evangeline walks home, the weight of her grief pressing down on her. Her mother's grave is a reminder of all she's lost, and the ache in her heart feels unbearable. Tears stream down her face, and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. The streets are relatively quiet, the early morning sun casting long shadows as she makes her way through the city.

As she turns a corner, a man steps into her path, a smirk plastered on his face. He's tall, with greasy hair and a sneer that makes her skin crawl.

"Hey, pretty lady, why the tears?" He asks, his tone mocking.

Evangeline tries to ignore him, quickening her pace, but he follows her, his footsteps echoing behind her.

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly," He says, grabbing her arm.

She pulls away, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Leave me alone," She says, her voice shaking.

But he doesn't let go. Instead, he tightens his grip, pulling her into a nearby alley.

"What's the rush, sweetheart? Let's have a little fun," He says, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol.

Evangeline's sorrow turns to anger, a fiery rage building inside her. She's already at her breaking point, and this man's unwanted attention pushes her over the edge. She doesn't think; she reacts. Her training kicks in, and she lashes out, her movements precise and powerful.

She strikes his nose with a sharp jab, causing him to stumble back in surprise. Before he can recover, she follows up with a roundhouse kick to his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. He falls to the ground, gasping for breath, but Evangeline doesn't stop. She climbs on top of him, her fists flying in a flurry of punches.

Each blow lands with a sickening thud, her knuckles bruising and splitting open, but she doesn't care. She's lost in her rage, her grief, and her need to release all the pain that's been building inside her. She screams as she punches him, her voice raw and filled with anguish.

"Why? Why won't you leave me alone?!" She cries, her fists pounding into his face, over and over again.

Blood spatters, and his face becomes a mess of cuts and bruises, but she doesn't stop. She can't stop.

It's only when a hand rests gently on her shoulder that she pauses, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looks up, her vision blurred by tears, and sees Logan standing there. His expression is one of concern and something else she can't quite place.

"What happened to staying out of trouble?" He asks, his voice gruff but soft.

Evangeline's anger dissipates, replaced by an overwhelming sadness. She stands up, her legs trembling, and before she can stop herself, she throws her arms around Logan, burying her face in his chest. She sobs uncontrollably, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.

Logan stands still, his body tense. He's not used to this kind of contact, not used to comforting others, but he doesn't push her away. His skin crawls, yearning for her touch even as his mind tells him to pull back. But he stays there, letting her cry into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.

Evangeline's sobs gradually subside, and she pulls back slightly, looking up at Logan with red, swollen eyes.

"I'm sorry," She whispers, her voice hoarse.

Logan shakes his head, cutting her off.

"It's okay," He says, his tone reassuring. He glances down at the man on the ground, who's barely conscious, his face a bloody mess, "Looks like you handled it pretty well."

Evangeline wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Logan nods, his expression softening slightly.

"Let's get out of here," He says, taking her arm gently and leading her out of the alley.

They walk in silence, the city gradually coming to life around them. Evangeline feels a strange mix of relief and exhaustion, her emotions still raw. She glances at Logan, wondering why he's helping her, why he seems to care.

They reach her apartment building, and Logan stops at the entrance.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asks, his eyes searching hers.

Evangeline nods, though she's not entirely sure.

"Yeah. I'll be fine," She says, trying to sound confident.

Logan studies her for a moment, then nods. She watches him walk away, a strange sense of loss washing over her. She's never met anyone like Logan before, someone who sees through her defenses and still seems to care. It's both terrifying and comforting.

As she enters her apartment, she feels a sense of emptiness settle over her. The place feels cold and unwelcoming, a stark contrast to the warmth she felt in Logan's presence. She sinks onto the couch, her mind replaying the events of the day.

She's been running for so long, hiding from her past, her pain, but maybe it's time to stop. Maybe it's time to let someone in.

Evangeline's eyes drift to the photograph on the coffee table, the one of her and her mother. She picks it up, her fingers tracing the familiar faces.

"I'm trying, Mama," She whispers, "I'm really trying."

She sets the photograph back down and leans back, closing her eyes.

Evangeline sits across from her client, a middle-aged businessman with salt-and-pepper hair and a tailored suit. They're at an upscale restaurant, the kind where the waiters wear tuxedos and the chandeliers sparkle above the meticulously set tables. She's been on autopilot all evening, smiling when she's supposed to, laughing at his jokes, and making small talk about his latest business ventures. Her mind, however, is miles away, lost in the haze of her own thoughts and the echoes of her recent emotional turmoil.

The waiter places a delicate plate of foie gras in front of her, the rich aroma barely registering in her senses. She picks up her fork and knife, going through the motions of cutting and eating, but each bite feels like ash in her mouth. The businessman drones on about some merger or acquisition, his voice blending into the background noise of clinking glasses and muted conversations.

It's only when he asks her a direct question that she snaps back to reality.

"What do you think about the current market trends in tech?" He asks, his eyes expectant.

Evangeline blinks, the fork hovering mid-air.

"I... I think they're quite interesting," She stammers, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

She has no idea what he's been talking about for the past several minutes, and it shows. The businessman raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Interesting, huh?" He says, leaning back in his chair, "Care to elaborate?"

She swallows hard, trying to regain her composure.

"Well, with the rapid advancements in artificial intelligence and machine learning, it's definitely a sector to watch," She says, hoping her generic response will suffice.

He nods, seemingly satisfied, and continues his monologue about tech stocks. Evangeline takes a sip of her wine, the cool liquid doing little to calm her nerves. She mentally kicks herself for zoning out, but it's hard to stay present when her heart feels so heavy.

As the evening drags on, the conversation becomes a blur, and Evangeline finds herself staring at the flickering candle on the table, its flame dancing in the soft breeze from the air conditioning. She feels a profound sense of emptiness, a void that no amount of money or fine dining can fill. The businessman is polite enough, but there's no connection, no real human warmth. It's all just a transaction, a facade of companionship that leaves her feeling more isolated than ever.

By the time dessert arrives, a decadent chocolate mousse, Evangeline is barely holding it together. She forces a smile as she takes a bite, but the sweetness only intensifies the bitter taste of loneliness in her mouth. Her client seems oblivious to her inner turmoil, engrossed in his own world of profit margins and market shares.

After dinner, they part ways with the usual formalities. He hands her an envelope, thick with cash, and she slips it into her purse with a practiced smile.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," She says, her voice hollow.

He nods, giving her a polite peck on the cheek before heading off in his chauffeur-driven car. As Evangeline watches him disappear into the night, she feels a pang of envy. Not for his wealth, but for the simple certainty with which he navigates his life. She stands on the sidewalk for a moment, feeling the cool night air on her skin, and then begins the long walk back to her apartment.

The city is alive with lights and sounds, but it all feels distant and detached. She passes couples holding hands, friends laughing together, and families enjoying late-night strolls. Each scene tugs at her heart, a reminder of what she's missing, what she's been running from for so long.

Her thoughts drift to Logan, the rugged man who had come to her aid not once, but twice. There was something about him, a quiet strength and an unspoken understanding that made her feel seen in a way she hadn't felt in years. She wishes she had a way to contact him, to reach out and hear his gruff voice, but she doesn't even know where to start.

As she climbs the stairs to her apartment, her legs feel like lead, and her heart is heavy with the weight of her emotions. She unlocks the door and steps inside, the emptiness of her small space echoing her own sense of solitude. She drops her purse on the table and collapses onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.

Tears well up in her eyes, but she fights them back, refusing to let herself break down again. She's been through too much, seen too much, to let herself fall apart now. But the ache in her chest is persistent, a constant reminder of all she's lost and all she longs for.

She lies back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and lets her mind wander. She imagines what it would be like to have a real connection, to share her life with someone who understands her, who accepts her for who she is. It's a fleeting dream, but it's enough to keep her going, to give her a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

The hours pass slowly, and before she knows it, dawn is breaking, casting a soft light through her window. Evangeline sits up, her body aching with exhaustion. She knows she needs to get some sleep, but her mind is too restless, too full of thoughts and emotions.

She gets up and walks to the window, looking out at the city as it wakes up. The streets are starting to fill with people, each one with their own story, their own struggles. She feels a strange kinship with them, a sense of shared humanity that gives her a small measure of comfort.

Evangeline takes a deep breath and turns away from the window. She knows she can't keep living like this, drifting from one empty encounter to the next.

As she heads to her bedroom, she thinks about Logan one last time. She doesn't know if she'll ever see him again. She lies down and closes her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep with the hope that tomorrow will be a little brighter, a little less lonely.

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