Chapter 23
23
ZARA
I ’m walking down the street, and the sounds of sirens come from around the corner, blazing down the street. I take a deep inhale as I get to the red light, waiting for my turn to cross, when my phone rings from my jacket pocket. I pull it out, looking down, and see it’s Matty.
“Hey,” I greet, putting the phone to my ear, seeing the light turn green and taking a step off the sidewalk.
“Hey yourself,” he snaps. “Is there something you need to tell me?” he asks, and I literally stop mid step. The back of my neck gets hot, and my stomach gets more nauseous than it’s been for the past couple of days. “Hello?” His voice goes high. “Is there something I should know?” I’m literally stuck in the middle of the street until I hear a horn blare from behind me, and the guy opens his window to tell me to get the fuck out of the way.
I jump and rush to the side. “I don’t know what you mean.” I play dumb, wondering how he found out about me and Gabriel. No one knew except for the four of us. I know Zoey would never tell him, and Sofia would never, ever share that information with him. She hasn’t even wanted to say it out loud.
“He fucking cheated on you?” he hisses, and I hang my head back. Thankfully, it’s just that.
“Oh, that,” I say, laughing nervously. “Who told you?”
“It’s not who told me. It’s why didn’t you tell me?” he retorts, and I continue walking down the street. “Zara, that’s fucked up.”
“Meh.” I shrug. “It is what it is.” I look down at my boots as I walk. Cowboy boots are not my normal wear, but when I get a chance, I always put them on. It makes me feel somewhat closer to him. Just thinking about him makes my stomach flutter, and my heart hurt. It’s been over a month, and there has been nothing from him. Not a text, not a comment on my social media, nothing. I mean, I don’t even know if he’s big on social media because his last post on his social was from November, but I know he always scrolls through his feed at night.
“It is what it is?” Matty hisses. “If I catch this fucking clown, I’m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.”
“And then what?” I ask him.
“Then nothing. Then he’s going to have no teeth, and I’ll be happy,” he huffs.
“Then you’ll have a record and become a felon,” I say calmly, “and frankly, he’s not worth all that trouble.”
“What the fuck?” he says, and I don’t even give him a chance to say anything.
“It is a blessing in disguise that it happened, and I should thank my lucky stars.”
“Thank your lucky stars? What have you done to Zara? Can she come to the phone?” He laughs. “The Zara I knew would have sliced the bottoms of his feet.”
“And taken every screw in the place,” I agree with him. “But I’ve had time to think about it,” I admit, “and I’m so glad he did what he did.”
“You’re glad?” he repeats.
“I mean, it sucked at the time. But—” Then I met Gabriel , I say silently. “Now it’s done, and we move on.”
“Why don’t you come and stay with us for a bit?” he offers, and I take a deep inhale but then close my eyes when I feel like I’m going to vomit. The nausea rushes through me for a couple of seconds before leaving.
“I’m busy,” I tell him, not lying to him. “I got five new clients last week, and I have to do a walk-through with each for the next month.” I look around for the restaurant I’m supposed to be at.
“Mom says you haven’t been feeling well,” he says softly.
“I’m fine.” I walk between parked cars, waiting to cross. “I was just nauseated is all,” I admit to him. It started two weeks after I was back. I know exactly why I’m sick to my stomach all the time. Except I’m not about to admit to my mother and my brother that it’s because I miss Gabriel so much it’s made me sick to my stomach. So I just pretend I caught a bug, hoping nobody catches on. “Anyway, I have to go. I’m here,” I tell him. “Thank you for calling and checking up on me.”
“Yeah, I would have liked to have known about this when it happened.”
“Hey, don’t be too hard on Sofia. I swore her to secrecy.”
“Sofia knew?” he snaps. “Sofia,” he yells her name and she must come into the room, “you knew about Zara and didn’t tell me?”
“Matthew Petrov,” she yells his full name, “you did not just call me in here to give me attitude. I was up all night with your son, and now you want to come at me?”
“Yikes,” I say. “Anyway, I have to go, love you. Give RC a kiss for me.” I hang up before Sofia snatches the phone from him, instead opting to text her.
Me: I’m so sorry. I owe you.
I put the phone in my purse before I pull open the glass door to the little shop. The bells on top tinkle as I look around the room and spot him sitting at the back. He holds up his hand, and I nod, walking around the tables to him. He stands up when I get to his table. “Zara,” he says, and all I can do is look at him and see if I feel something, anything.
“Daniel.” I pull out the chair in front of him before he makes the mistake of leaning in to get a kiss or something.
“Thank you for coming.” His voice is soft, and I see him rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans.
“I really didn’t have that much of a choice.” I look around to see if the server will be coming by so I can get some water. The nausea is starting to work its way up. “You’ve been calling and texting me nonstop,” I remind him sadly because the one person I’ve been wanting to call and text me has not reached out at all, making it clear to me that he is more than okay. The thought makes my stomach rise and then fall, like the water in the ocean moving up and down, side to side.
“I’m sorry, but I needed to talk to you.”
“Why?” I fold my arms over my legs. “For what?”
“Zara, I made a mistake.” His voice is low so no one else around us can hear, and I lean in.
“Daniel, you fucked your coworker for the past three years.” My voice isn’t low, but it isn’t high either. “A mistake is a onetime thing. What you had is an affair.”
“I know, I know.” He taps the table. “But it was all a mistake.”
“I obviously didn’t make you happy or fulfill something in you”—I lean back in my chair—“or else you would have never done that to me.”
“It’s not that, it was just—” I hold up my hand.
“Please, spare me.” I shake my head. “I don’t really care to hear what it was between you. What I know is that it was a selfish thing for you to do to me.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“What do you want?” I ask him. “You want me to say that I forgive you?” I ask him but then quickly continue. “Because I don’t. I don’t forgive you for cheating on me. I don’t forgive you for bringing that woman into our house, and I especially don’t forgive you for fucking her on my favorite blanket.” I push away from the table. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go see a man about a horse.” I silently laugh as he glares at me.
“What?” he asks, shocked, his voice going tight. “A man about a horse?” He leers at me. “Is that why you won’t take me back, too busy rolling around in the hay with a hillbilly?”
I laugh as loud as I possibly can, and everyone stops talking and looks my way. This time I don’t care who fucking hears me. “Your crude response just goes to show how truly ignorant you are. No, dumbass, I’m not going to buy a horse. I know you are very familiar with the saying save a horse and ride a cowboy.” His face turns beet red as he just glares at me. “Besides, my cowboy treats me like a fucking princess and would never think about batting an eye at another woman.” I push away from the table, and his eyes look like they are going to pop out of his head while his head explodes. I turn to walk away from him, flipping him the bird. “And by the way, I’ve always wanted to tell you this, my middle finger is bigger than your dick.” The shocked gasps come out of more than just him. “Ta-ta.” I wiggle my fingers at him and walk out of the restaurant, feeling lighter than I’ve ever felt. “Take that,” I say, turning and making my way back to my house.
* * *
My eyes fly open when the doorbell rings, and it takes me a minute to get up off the couch. I was working, and then I got so fucking tired I had to lie down. I literally thought my eyes were going to close while I was sitting down. The doorbell rings again, and this time, I toss my blanket off me. The minute I lift my head, my stomach rumbles, making me close my eyes. This is apparently the new normal for having a broken heart. You get sick to your stomach all the time, so much so that you can’t eat, and even when you do eat, it feels like you are going to yack every second. I walk out of the living room toward the door when the bell rings again. “I’m coming,” I say, opening the door and seeing a man holding a brown bag in his hand with a vase of flowers in the other.
“Zara Petrov?” he asks, and I nod.
“These are for you.” He holds out the vase for me. “And this also.”
“Thank you.” I reach out for the vase, tucking it in my arm, hissing when I touch my nipple. Before grabbing the bag, I say, “Have a nice day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles before turning and walking away. I shut the door, walking to the kitchen to place the vase on the counter with the bag next to it. Pulling out the card, my hands shake as I pull it open. The minute my eyes see the card, the tears well up, and I blink, hoping they leave, but instead, they fall down my cheeks.
Happy Valentine’s Day to my favorite auntie.
Love RC
I smile and wipe the tears with the back of my hand, opening the bag and seeing a sprinkle cupcake in it. I push away the picture of Gabriel that pops into my head every fucking day. Every fucking time I close my fucking eyes, it’s him. It’s always fucking him, and he gives zero fucks about me. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day, and he hasn’t even texted me once. Okay, fine, I haven’t reached out to him, but usually it’s always the man who checks in on the woman, isn’t it?
My phone rings from the living room, and I rush over to grab it, seeing that it’s a FaceTime from Sofia. I slide it open and cringe when I see that the tip of my nose is red, but it’s too late because Sofia’s face fills the screen with a gummy drooling RC next to her. “Can we say happy Valentine’s Day to auntie?” she says with a smile to him, and then she looks at me.
“What happened?” she asks, and I just shake my head.
“Nothing, nothing,” I reply. “Thank you for the lovely present.” I smile, pretending that I’m fine. “How is my Valentine doing?” I ask RC, who moves his hands up and down excitedly.
“You look a little pale.” She observes, and I roll my eyes, pulling my sweater closed in front of me and wincing when my hand rubs against my nipples.
“What’s wrong?”
“My nipples are killing me,” I say in annoyance. “For the past week, the minute I touch them it’s like someone is stabbing me.”
“Good God, you sure you aren’t pregnant?” She laughs at me, and my head spins. “I remember when I was pregnant with RC. If Matty touched my nipples, I would cry.” She stops talking, looking at me. “You aren’t pregnant, right?”
“No.” I sit up. “Of course not,” I say, running up the stairs to the bathroom and taking out my birth control pills. “I’m going to get my period in two days, at least I hope so because I missed last month, but that was only because I had to double up on a couple of them.” I don’t bother telling her that it was because I stayed at Gabriel’s house for three days and had to take them when I got back to her house. “Plus, the month before, I was off because I didn’t take them for like five days before I remembered I left them at the other place.” I’m rambling at this point, and my legs are starting to tremble, knowing I finished my period a full two days before I went dress shopping. And Daniel and I hadn’t had sex since Halloween night. We went a whole month without sex. That should have been a huge red flag.
“Zara,” Sofia says, “are you listening to yourself?”
“I am not pregnant,” I retort. “I have to go.” She shakes her head.
“This is very bad,” she says. “This is very, very bad.”
“Nothing is bad,” I snap at her, putting on my cowboy boots at the door and grabbing my jacket. “Nothing is bad.” I grab my purse and walk out of the house, looking like a hobo. My gray jogging pants are tucked into brown cowboy boots while I wear a red coat.
“Where the hell are you going?” she asks me as RC whines and twists in her arms.
“I’m going to the pharmacy.” I walk around the people who are walking slower than me.
“You have to call me back,” she hisses out. “This is going to be very, very bad.”
“Stop saying that,” I demand when I walk into the pharmacy and go down each aisle until I stand in front of the pregnancy tests. I grab three different ones, walking to the counter and putting them all on top. I look around to make sure I don’t know anyone, but this is the city, no one knows anyone. I literally rush home, not bothering to take my boots off as I run to the kitchen to get myself a white coffee takeout cup I bought on a whim last time I was in the store.
I go straight to the bathroom and sit down with one hand between my legs as I pee in the cup. I place the cup on the counter before I wipe myself and wash my hands. Opening the packages of the pregnancy tests, I look at the instructions and they’re pretty much all the same: place the tip in the stream for seven to ten seconds.
I pull the cap off the first one, placing it in the cup and counting to fifteen for added measure, before placing it down on the box and starting the next one until all three sit on the counter. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” I’m chanting as I go along. My heart beats so fast and hard in my chest, it’s making it hard to breathe. I pick up the instructions, reading to see how long you have to wait until you get a response. At the same time, I pick up one of the sticks after reading how long you have to wait, the sound of the doorbell fills the air. My head flies to the hallway as I walk down, looking at the paper to see that if it’s positive, there will be two lines, and if it’s negative, there will be one line. My eyes go from the paper to the test at the same time the bell rings again. “Why is everyone so impatient today?” I huff as I step to the front door.
My hand turns the lock at the same time I see two very bright, very blue lines. My mouth hangs open as I hold the test in one hand as I open the door. Shock fills my body at the result but not as much as the face greeting me. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”