Chapter Seven
Zoe
I can't believe it's over. The cruise, the fun, the romance, him .
It's time to disembark, but I'm just standing in front of him, holding both of his hands as I stare into his eyes. I can't get over how blue his eyes look when he's wearing this brilliant blue shirt, or how elegant his dark slacks are. He looks as handsome as the first moment I saw him.
Even though there's a smile on his face, I can see the sadness in his eyes.
He doesn't want to do this either. Split up and go our separate ways, I mean. But why do we have to?
“Thank you for everything,” I say.
He inclines his head a bit. “Likewise.”
I can feel him leaving me, if only his mind, and I don't know how to deal with the flood of emotions surging through me.
We've had such an amazing time together, made so many great memories. The little bit of time we spent together was more impactful than my entire relationship with Jake, and I don't know how to pretend that never happened and walk away now.
Somewhere deep inside I knew things would end eventually, but I didn't think it would be this hard.
I blink and see the smile on his face as we sat under the stars watching a movie on the deck. In my mind's eye I can feel the roughness of his thumb as he wipes a smudge of sauce from the corners of my lips as we eat our pizza. I can feel the paddle in my hand and the vibration of the ball hitting wood as I score a winning point in our table tennis game.
And all of it, every bit of compatibility we have, all the fun, the excited fluttering he makes me feel... it all ends here.
I can see the tragic look on my friends’ faces and know that they are hurting for me.
I don't know how to deal with the flood of emotions coursing through me. It's as if every thought in my head has gone quiet and is replaced by screaming. I want to hug him, hold on to him and not let go, even as it feels like my heart is shattering.
I know he's still little more than a stranger, but the feelings I have for him are real and I can’t deny that.
I've had more fun with him since I met him on this trip than I ever had with Jake.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his breath stirring the hair around my ear.
I shake my head no and let out a nervous laugh. “No, but I will be.” I can't help but feel like I'm being ridiculous. What must he think of me right now? That I’m a silly little girl that got far too attached way too quickly? Maybe he thinks I'm psycho. What if I am?
I have never believed in love at first sight. But I didn't love him the moment I met him. I was fiercely attracted to him, sure. Even now, I wouldn't say that I love him, just that I like him and I'm sad to see him walk out of my life.
He skims his hands down my arms and laces his fingers with mine. “Zoe, you're incredible. You managed to break me out of my work brain and help me enjoy this vacation. Nobody's ever done that before.”
If he keeps talking, he's going to make me cry and I blink rapidly, as if that'll stem the tears. He makes me feel special, but in an honest way that doesn't feel like a line he’d use on every girl he meets. But maybe I'm just being naive.
He lets go of my hands and reaches up to brush my hair back from my face before tilting my chin up. I finally meet his gaze. “I mean it. You have been absolutely amazing.”
Everything else fades into the background. I can no longer hear the buzz of noise around us or feel the push of people. I forget my friends are standing near us, pitying me. All I can think about and focus on is him. Damien. Those incredibly bright blue eyes, that brown hair, his sharp, angular, movie-star features... I have no idea how this man is single, and even less idea why he's interested in me. But he ticks all the boxes of everything I want in a man.
I love his sense of humor and the way he'd supported me when I was stressed out about Jake. And his way of pulling me into the moment and away from my phone. I love his teasing and jokes, his kind eyes, the way he kisses me and makes me feel important. Jake never made me feel important. Heck, no boyfriend ever made me feel important.
“Thank you. You’re amazing too.” My words seem to fall flat, and I want to tell him that I don't know how to walk away. I'm not sure what words to say to tell him that I can't stand the thought of him walking out of my life forever... my brain can’t figure out how to tell him anything without sounding like a crazy stalker girlfriend who’s also a walking bouquet of red flags.
I feel the sting of tears all over again and try to blink them away. I don't want to cry in front of him. I want to be strong, and I don't want him to remember me with red-rimmed, watery eyes and a Rudolph red nose. I’m stronger than this. Or I thought I was, anyway.
“You are the most amazing man I've ever met, and I'm so glad I met you. Thank you for everything.” The words don't sound too bad in my ears, and I suddenly hold out a little bit of hope that maybe I can articulate what I'm feeling in a way that might keep him from walking out of my life forever.
His gaze softens and his eyes crinkle the corners as he smiles. Without warning, he pulls me into a tight hug, his arms strong as steel cables around my ribs and his hands gentle on my lower back. When he whispers in my ear, a shiver runs through me. “I don't want to say goodbye.”
I don't want him to say goodbye. I want him to say this doesn't have to be the end, that we can see one another again, that maybe we can see where this spark between us might lead.
I loop my arms around his shoulders and whisper, “Neither do I.”
He exhales a deep breath and presses his forehead to mine. We stay like that for a moment and gazes locked, body heat mingling, I feel at home, loved, and safe. Safe in the arms of a stranger. I can feel his warm breath on my chin, and when he leans in and touches his lips to mine, my whole body melts like butter on a hot summer day.
He barely pulls back to speak and his lips graze mine as he whispers, “I want to see you again.”
A surge of hope and relief floods through my entire body. I've been so worried that he didn’t feel the same. But he’s making a move, and my heart does a funny dance in my chest. Maybe this isn't the end after all. Maybe this is a sign that there's more to come from this odd connection we share.
“I'm glad you said it first, because I also want to see you again. I just didn't want to sound like a crazy chick who’s moving way too fast.”
He chuckles. “How are we supposed to know if this thing between us is real or fake unless we explore it?”
He has a point. “You're making way too much sense.”
“I know you just got out of a really bad relationship, and I don't want to contribute to that in any way, shape, or form. I'd like to be here for your healing journey, and we can take things as slow as you need.” As he says the words and validates everything I've been through with Jake, heat warms my entire body and I smile.
How is he so impossibly amazing and perfect for me?
He reaches into his slacks pocket and pulls out a piece of paper before taking a pen from his suit jacket. He writes something down on the paper and hands it to me, and I smile at him.
“Old school. You could have just given me your number to put in my phone.”
He lifts both shoulders and I can't help but love the gesture of him physically writing his name down. There's something so much more intimate about him writing his number down and handing me the paper than just saving his number in my phone. I can't explain why, and I doubt it makes sense. I fold the paper and tuck it into my pocket, though every bit of me screams to put it in my phone now.
But I don't want to waste these last few moments staring at my phone instead of basking in his company.
“I hope you call me when you get home or text me or even find me on social media. I just hope you stay in touch.” His voice is so warm and sincere that his words wrap around me like a warm blanket on a crisp fall day.
“I will, I promise.” As I say the words, I know that our time is coming to an end.
He offers me a smile and says, “Good.”
With that, he pulls me into a hug, kisses me one more time and says, “Take care of yourself, Zoe. And don't let the Jakes of the world tear you down. You’re too good for them.”
His uplifting words bring a sad smile to my face. “Thank you. For everything.”
His lips brush mine, then he backs off with one more soul-searching look. I offer a weak wave and he nods before turning and disappearing into the throng of people disembarking the cruise ship.
I feel a sharp prick of pain in my chest, and a painful lump forms in my throat, nearly cutting off my air.
I miss him already.
“Hey, hon.” I feel Cass’ arms close around me as she, Amy, and Ben guide me to our ride.
We load up our things and I feel like I'm in a daze, as we pull away from the parking lot. All I can think about is him and how wrong it feels to be leaving.
“You guys exchanged numbers, right?” I can feel the concern in any stare as I nod at her before returning to my quiet contemplation. Thankfully, they don't push me to talk anymore. I'm not really in the mood to discuss anything. I'm hurting and ready to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed and dream about a blue-eyed man with gentle hands, kind words, and a hug that feels like coming home.
As the one who lives furthest away, everyone else is already out of the car and gone before the Uber pulls up in front of my house.
On the front step I can see a woman waiting for me and I take a deep breath.
I'm not expecting company and I have no idea who would be there waiting. And how long has this person been waiting for that matter?
I tip the driver and get out, taking my bags from the trunk before making my way up to my front door. The second the young woman turns to me, I know exactly who she is.
I’m face to face with Cindy.
Jake’s secretary.
The woman he cheated on me with.
“What are you doing here?” I stop at my front door, unwilling to even put the keys in the lock while she's standing there staring at me. Her gaze studies my face, and I see a mixture of pity and surprise there.
“You're beautiful.” I’m confused by her stunned statement.
“Yeah, well, that didn't stop him from cheating on me.” I stack my bags beside the door and turn to face her, planting my hands on my hips.
Her eyebrows jump almost to her hairline. I'm still not sure why she's here on my doorstep, but when she offers me a bouquet of sunflowers and roses, I’m even more confused. There's a nervous look in her eyes and I'm not sure what she's up to. This has got to be in my top ten weirdest moments ever.
“Zoe, I'm sorry.” I sense she means the words, but they're cold comfort.
“Thanks, I guess. Why are you here?” I'm not interested in being friends with my ex’s girlfriend.
“I wanted to say that I'm sorry and I was hoping you would hear me out.” When I don't accept the flowers, she pulls them back toward her body and cradles them like a baby. I see her inhale deeply and imagine that this conversation isn't a comfortable one for her either.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that I'm interested in hearing.” I'm not even trying to be rude at this point, just honest. I dig in my purse and pull out my keys, ready to go inside and end this awkward confrontation.
“Zoe, please. It’s important.” I hear the beseeching quality in her voice and pause for a moment.
With a sigh, I decide to let her talk. After all, there's no way she'll leave and not come back if I don't let her speak her mind. “Fine, go ahead.”
I cross my arms, hoping she’ll get this over with quickly. I’m exhausted and ready to get inside, but I sure as heck don’t want to invite her - or her trouble - in.
“It's about Jake,” she says, and I snort.
I roll my eyes. “Of course, it is.”
She doesn’t seem moved by my words and continues talking. “Did you know that he's been arrested?”
I swear to goodness, if she asks me to help bail him out, I'm going to scream. “Of course, I do. He called me from jail days ago, asking me to bail him out.”
She seems stunned by this news and her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I realize that he must have called me before he called her. “Do you know why he got arrested?”
She shakes her head and recovers quickly. “Something about a busted taillight on his car?”
She says the words like they are question and I know she doesn't believe him. I let out a sour laugh. “Yeah, he's in jail because there was a warrant out for his arrest. Apparently, he beat an ex-girlfriend and then dodged arrest and crossed state lines to avoid the charges. You can look up the charges, or I can send them to you.” I pull out my phone fully ready to send her a message on social media with the information she needs to read the truth instead of the lie he told her.
To my surprise, she nods her head. “I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the truth.”
She still hasn't told me why she's here. “So you came to talk to me because you had a feeling that he was lying to you about why he was arrested?” Her reason for being on my front step doesn't make sense, and I just want to get to the bottom of things so I can send her on her way.
“Do you think he'd cheat on me?” I can tell by the way she's looking at me that that wasn't the question she intended to ask. She looks terrified.
But I'm not about to be a jerk. Honest, yes. Cruel, no. “He cheated on me, and I'm a firm believer of once a cheater, always a cheater, so I'd have to say yes, if I was going to hazard a guess.” But that's not the part that stands out to me. “Honestly, I don't think you should be worried about whether or not he'll cheat. He's in jail for beating an ex-girlfriend. You deserve better, and so do I.”
As I say the words, she squares her shoulders and a smile flirts with the corners of her lips. “You’re right. We both deserve better.” She lowers her voice like we're girlfriends, sharing a secret, which couldn't be further from the truth. “Besides, he's a dirtbag, anyway.”
She’s finally said something I agree with.
And he's the worst kind of dirtbag; he's a liar, a cheat, a jerk, a woman beater.
She sighs and I realize the conversation still isn't over. “The problem is that I love him.”
I snort. “You love him? Really? How can you love somebody who cheated on both of us?”
“He didn't cheat on me.” She sets her jaw with a stubborn expression.
“So you knew that he and I were still together and that he was coming home to me and you were okay with it?” I’m worried that this poor girl is delusional.
She shakes her head. “Well, sure, he came home to you, but there was nothing between you guys. You said you were even sleeping in separate rooms.”
I let out a laugh, but feel bad for it immediately. “Oh, sweetheart, we were not sleeping in separate rooms. He was sleeping with me right up until I found out... a few days before I went on the cruise.”
Her sharp, inhaled breath hisses the same way I do when I stub my toe.
“He lied to you, Cindy. Just like he lied to me. He doesn't love you. He doesn't love anyone but himself.” I can see her reject my honesty with a shake of her head as tears begin to form in her eyes.
“That's not true, he said he loves me.”
This poor, delusional young woman has no idea. “Yep, he told me he loves me too. I bet you he told the woman that he beat up that he loved her. Look where his ‘love’ got everyone. One woman hospitalized, me cheated on, you cheated on... and we’re the lucky ones.”
I'm just thankful that none of this mess is mine anymore.
I'm also grateful to have met someone who actually seems to be worth my time.