46. Annie
Annie
Six days wasn’t long enough. Did they even happen? Or did I dream six perfect days with Zayn? Every morning began with freshly made breakfast, coffee, and tea. We’d follow that with a walk outside, hand in hand, taking advantage of the December air.
I tried not to think of today, of the end.
Each step we took, I tried to stay in the present, but I know Zayn was struggling too.
Sometimes I’d catch him staring off into the distance and he’d have this glossy overlay on his eyes, as if he were zoning out and getting stuck thinking about the end.
It’d be for only a moment, because then he’d blink once to snap out of it and return his gaze to me with a soft smile.
The afternoons were full of watching television, playing games, or just reading together. Actually, most of our time together was meant to be intentional. We both agreed that we wanted the end to be perfect, and that’s exactly what it was.
And today, I’m moving out. Well, moving into Marcy’s apartment. My stuff will still be at Zayn’s for the next few weeks, but he said he will ship it to me when I get settled in New York since I’m getting a furnished apartment.
I’m currently sitting on the bed in the guest room, which used to be my room before I started sleeping with Zayn.
My suitcase is packed with all my essentials, and I have a smaller bag with some random items that wouldn’t fit.
I’ve been crying on and off all morning and feeling like I’m making the biggest mistake.
Am I choosing my career over someone I love?
Am I not just doing what Zayn’s ex did to him?
Or is it different because we are on the same page? We are on the same page, right?
Ugh.
This is not how I pictured living in LA would go when I first moved here. I mean, sure, I thought I’d find the one eventually. But that was once my career was solidified and I had time to slow down. I never expected to fall for a client, let alone someone with a promising future like Zayn.
My mind keeps flipping between saying “fuck it” and deciding to stay and saying “you did this to yourself” because both are true, yet I’m choosing the latter. I did do this to myself. We did this to ourselves.
“Alright, I think you got everything,” Zayn says as he crosses the threshold of the bedroom.
I look up and offer a soft smile. It’s all I have the energy for at the moment.
“You ready?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing both of my hands and tugging my body toward his. “Let’s not think of this as a goodbye. Let’s think of this as a see you soon.”
“That’s cliche,” I mumble into his chest.
Zayn laughs, his chest rumbling my head.
“Only for you, Princess.” He kisses the top of my head, then interlaces his fingers with mine. “Let’s get you to Marcy’s.”
Zayn leans over to grab both bags of luggage. I told him I can handle my own luggage, but he glared at me. Typical Zayn.
I follow him out the door and down to the car in silence. Neither of us are in the mood to talk, but that’s okay. I don’t know what we’d talk about anyway. He still won’t let me tell him that I love him, distracting me with kisses every time I try. But I will tell him. Someday.
“There you are!” Marcy says from the sidewalk when we pull up to her complex. She’s standing there as if she’s been waiting for the past hour, but we aren’t even late. Okay, maybe ten minutes late, but we can blame the traffic for that.
“Hi, Marcy.”
“Zayn, thank you for bringing me my best friend back. I’ve missed her,” Marcy says, enveloping me into a hug.
“Marcy, I just saw you,” I say with an eye roll.
“Doesn’t count, it was a quick lunch.” Marcy stands tall, proud even, and I can tell she’s thrilled that I’m going to be staying with her for the next two weeks before I fly out to New York.
“Here, let me grab those and you two can say bye and kiss or whatever.” Marcy grins and winks in my direction as she takes the luggage from Zayn.
Once she’s gone and through the door, I turn back to Zayn. He’s only a foot from me, so it takes no time for him to close the difference and pull me into a hug. The tears flow again.
“Shh, it’s okay, Annie,” Zayn says in a futile attempt to calm me down.
“What if I’m making a big mistake?” Trying to be brave, I ask the question that’s been haunting my mind.
“We all make mistakes, but you won’t know it’s a mistake until you make the decision. And remember our deal, okay?” Zayn kisses my head.
“How could I forget?” I somehow bring myself to laugh, the tears slow. I hug Zayn tighter, not wanting to let him go.
This is the last place I expected to see myself, wrapped in Zayn’s arms, getting ready to live with my best friend for two weeks before moving across the country.
“You’ll call me if you need anything? I’m still here for you, you know. Anytime, doesn’t matter if it’s three in the morning. I’ll be here,” Zayn says.
All I can do is nod, knowing I won’t be able to bring myself to call him.
That’d be too hard, to stay in contact, knowing that eventually he will find someone to replace me.
Minutes pass and eventually we untangle from each other. Zayn cups my jaw with both hands, meeting my eyes.
“I’m not going to say much because I’d start crying again, but know that you are incredible, Annie. You’re going to do great things, I know it. And I’m so grateful to have been included in your story.”
He brings his lips to mine, one last time, kissing me slowly. When he pulls away, his hands follow.
“I guess I should leave now, right? Otherwise I think I could stay here for hours.” Zayn chuckles as he runs a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I know. Well, I’ll...”
“See you later?” Zayn smirks.
“See you later,” I say, wanting that to be true and hoping that this isn’t the permanent end of us.
Zayn kisses me one more time on the forehead, then he turns to walk to his car.
I stay standing on the sidewalk as he drives away, waving to him as he passes. And continue to stand there until his car disappears in the traffic and I lose track of him. Then, I turn around to face the apartment complex and head toward the door to go up to Marcy’s.
The entire walk to her door, I can’t stop replaying the memories of Zayn and I. Like a movie reel, they roll through my head, showing me our dates, our hugs, our kisses, everything. I don’t even have the door clicked shut when tears roll down my face again.
Everything hurts. My heart feels like it’s being torn apart in a million directions, my head is throbbing from the constant crying, my chest is heavy with sadness.
I don’t even see Marcy walk my way when she pulls me into her arms. Hugging me tight.
“I don’t want to do this,” I sob. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You could stay, you know,” Marcy says, like it’s an easy decision.
“I wouldn’t have a job. I need a job, Marce. I can’t start over.”
“Let me make some calls. Maybe Cassie can do the same? We have to know someone in our connections that can help,” Marcy suggests.
“Okay,” I say, feeling defeated.
The thought that I could get a new job would be great, and it’s crossed my mind before.
But I didn’t want to ask, because I didn’t want to feel hopeful, only to get crushed in the end.
I know I don’t have the experience most firms are looking for, I know that Greg would sabotage any new roles that I wanted to land.
Marcy pulls away, letting me know she’s going to call Cassie, and tells me to make myself at home.
So I go to sit on the couch and throw on an action movie, no romance, to try to distract my mind. It works, a little, because I end up falling asleep. And while sleeping, I dream that everything works out in the end and I hope that it becomes a reality.
***
One week has gone by. One week of not talking to Zayn.
I don’t feel any better. If anything, I feel worse.
Marcy has to drag me out of the house. We go for walks and to the coffee shop down the road, maybe the diner up the road.
I continue to sulk around, waiting for updates from her or Cassie on any job leads.
All my friends have been calling and emailing people they know, and those people have been reaching out to people they know.
It’s only been a few days, so I’m trying to keep that in mind.
Even though I only have one week until I move.
Today Zayn finds out if he gets the role in the trilogy.
The role that was supposed to help transcend my career as well, showing that I can help people get from here to there.
I can picture Zayn, in his apartment, on the couch, waiting for the call.
And I get sad all over again because I should be there, congratulating him, because I know he’s going to get the role.
Marcy told me. She told me in hopes it’d make me feel better, and she wasn’t wrong.
But this also means our breakup will hit the media, and now I’ll have to figure out how to avoid that.
No scrolling on social media, unfollow all accounts that report any sort of news, remove my notifications around our names so I don’t receive new articles straight to my inbox.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch when the door to the apartment swings open. I drop the fork I was holding, having been startled by the door slamming against the wall.
“Shit, Marce, you scared me.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes as I pick up the fork from the floor.
“Someone’s interested.”
“Huh?” I ask, needing clarification.
“We have a lead. There’s a new PR firm starting up, female led, focused on uplifting women in the industry.”
“Seriously?” I ask, my heart already beating faster, my excitement starting to show.
“Seriously. Pulse PR. Someone from one of the other top firms in the area left to start her own. She wants to meet you.”
“Holy shit.” I put my fork down now, suddenly not having an appetite.
Marcy nods. “They want to talk to you tomorrow, I gave June, the CEO, your number. She will call you today to give you the place and time. I figured you had nothing going on, so I told her your schedule is wide open.”
“I love you. So much,” I say to Marcy, grateful to have friends that will bend over backward to help you.
“I would do anything to help you stay, Anns. I’d miss you so much if you were across the country. I want you to stay too, you know.”
“I want to stay too,” I whisper.
And maybe I can. Maybe I’ll talk to June at Pulse PR and they will want to hire me.
Maybe I’ll love the opportunity enough to say yes and stay.
And then if that’s the case, then everything will work out.
I’ll get to keep my career, keep Zayn, and thinking about all of that has me smiling, a real smile.