CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE #2
Her lips curved into a soft smile. “Thank you for your offer, but we already have someone helping us. He always makes sure Abby wants for nothing, which is more than I can ever ask for.”
“Yeah, Zach is amazing!” Abby piped in from the floor as she pulled the set out of the box.
I froze, gaping between Abby and Maggie. Zach?
My gaze went over to all the new, expensive-looking toys in the living room, and the answer slapped me in the face. Not only had Maggie known more about Zach than she’d led me to believe but he was also helping her and Abby.
A sweet sensation went off inside me.
Maggie sighed, her expression telling me she hadn’t necessarily wanted me to be privy to that information.
“You said you didn’t know where Zach was.”
She shrugged her shoulder. “I couldn’t know your intentions. I wasn’t fully convinced that you and Zach were friends. But then I saw Zach in that LIVE, and it occurred to me that you two were more than just friends. I see that you managed to meet in the meantime.”
I lowered my head, avoiding her gaze beneath the brim of my hat. “You’re wrong about us being more than just friends.”
“Wrong? Honey, anyone could see how much you care for each other.”
My heart ached. If she only knew how far off the mark she was.
His words about needing me replayed in my mind, but I stopped them. Whatever he’d thought he felt, it didn’t matter.
“Though I have to say I was surprised to see him care for someone.”
I raised my head. “What do you mean?”
“In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him interested in any girl. But he needs it, if you ask me. He needs someone who can be there for him. He needs love.”
My nails dug into my palms. Yes, he needed love. But the person he’d receive it from wouldn’t be me.
Jealousy came at me so suddenly, it stole my breath away. I was masochistic enough to imagine him happy with some other girl, but my only comfort was that I wouldn’t be there to see it.
I shook my head to myself, shoving the pain aside. I so didn’t want to talk about Zach, and that wasn’t what I’d come here for anyway.
“We don’t have that kind of relationship, but you’re right. I hope he finds someone who makes him happy.” I stood. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I don’t want to take any more of your time.”
Her brows arched with confusion. “No, it’s really fine. You sure you don’t want coffee or something?”
“Thank you, but no. I’d like to leave you my number just in case there’s something I can help with.”
“I don’t think there’s anything, but I would appreciate that. Also, thank you for the toy.”
“Don’t mention it.” I gave her my number, then waved at Abby. “Bye, Abby.”
She raised her head from the pieces of equipment she was about to merge. “Bye!”
I felt Maggie’s eyes on me the entire way to the door, all the unspoken words between us hanging in the air, and I had to take a deep breath as I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
It was a bad idea to come here now. It was too soon.
This place made me think about Zach too much, and the feelings I’d been fighting so hard to suppress this past month were running rampant—love, longing . . . guilt.
Before I could stop myself, I looked over at the bridge peeking between the foliage in the distance, and my stomach knotted.
I told myself to take my phone to request an Uber ride, but my body didn’t listen, taking me there as though something was pulling on me. Maybe it was curiosity. Or perhaps it was regret.
The place where Zach had wanted to kill himself. The breaking point I was responsible for.
The wind whooshed by as I looked down at the rushing river, the leaves rustling around me. It was so deep below. Merciless. Terrifying.
I wound my hands around the railing, tears accumulating in my eyes. I could almost see him here. Hopeless and empty.
I closed my eyes, and for the first time since the night I last saw him, I allowed myself to cry.
It was easy to blame him for everything he’d done to me, but his wrong deeds didn’t absolve me of the guilt.
I still struggled with self-forgiveness, and I still loathed myself for my choices.
Because as much as I was changing, I couldn’t let go of the past, just like Zach, and the tattoo served as a constant reminder of it.
Some days, I hated Zach so much for it.
And some days, I hated myself.
It was one of the reasons I still didn’t try to find out how to remove it.
Minutes passed, or it could be hours, before my tears stopped, and I opened my eyes, looking next to me. I could almost see the younger Zach there, the innocent boy who had the misfortune to cross my path, and I reached my hand toward him.
His hand extended to me, connecting with mine, and our gazes met.
“If only our story could’ve started differently. If only I’d showed you love instead of hurting you.”
The branches of the trees around us swayed with another gust of wind.
“But I hurt you a lot, and we both paid a price. And now all that’s left is this.” I pressed my other hand against the tattoo.
His eyes gleamed, never looking away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I hope that wherever you are, you’re going to be happy. And I hope I’ll forget all about you.”
He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed it back.
And I let it go.
I didn’t know whether I could find it within me to forgive myself or Zach, and that scared the hell out of me.
But what scared me the most was never seeing him again. He was like poison, and I couldn’t get him out of my system, and with each day that passed, the pain only grew stronger.
I stepped away from the railing and brushed away my tears, reaching for my phone to order a ride. But as my fingers moved across the screen, a recurring thought came back to me.
A week ago, I’d contacted the hostess of Lana and Mom’s fundraiser, the memory of how Zach acted when we arrived there nagging at me.
My suspicion that he’d used his new legal name was only confirmed when she told me the name Zach Curtis hadn’t been on the guest list. So I asked her to tell me the name he gave her.
After a little persuasion, she shared it with me, and the knowledge had been in the back of my mind ever since.
I hadn’t looked for him. I resisted the urge to see him each time it became too strong. But now, I pulled up Instagram and typed his name in the search bar, losing the battle against myself.
My heart started to thud in my chest. I scrolled through the accounts, and my lungs constricted hard when I finally spotted his profile picture.
With trembling fingers, I tapped on his username and released a long breath when I saw his account was public.
He had only twelve posts, and my eyes darted across them as I tried to soak them all in, noting they were all photos of nature—hills, mountains, and rivers.
Nothing that would give me an inkling of what his life was like now, and I tamped down my disappointment as I went to check if he had any photos he was tagged in.
It turned out he had dozens of them, which featured him and other people, but before I could fully process that, my attention glued to the last photo.
No. It couldn’t be.
The photo showed Zach standing next to a guy, who appeared to be his close friend, in front of a red brick building I knew very well.
Norton College.
I tapped on the photo and scrolled down to the caption, the loud pounding of my heart drowning out all other sounds.
“Norton College, here we come! #CollegeLifeAwaits.”
No.
I couldn’t believe this. Zach couldn’t be attending Norton College.
He just couldn’t.
But as I scrolled through the rest of the photos he was tagged in, I only discovered more details that hinted at his college choice, and a cold certainty settled deep into my bones.
Shit.
Zach and I were going to the same college.