Fear of Flying

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Zach

“Zachary, sweetie!” his mom fussed, somehow managing to usher both him and Jen inside and pack a whole little guilt trip for him all at the same time—he wasn’t sure she had even taken a breath. “Come here, I need to hug you so I can make sure you’re really alright? What happened that you had to drive? And I sure hope you didn’t drive that whole way without stopping to sleep for the night, did you? You know I worry about you!”

“I love you too, Mom. I’m fine,” he assured her and then continued answering the rest of her questions in short order as the three of them made their way to the living room to join Zach’s father.

His mom excused herself to go make everyone a round of mimosas, and his dad gave him and Jen a warm hello before returning to reading his newspaper. Sometimes Zach wished he could seemingly ignore people as well as Dave Harrison did—his father usually proved himself to have been paying attention, but the lack of eye contact always made Zach feel anxious. And unheard. Maybe that’s why Zach’s mom was so... extra all the time.

Zach shook his head to try and clear his thoughts as he eased himself down onto one end of the sofa. Jen, being the dutiful best friend she was, sat next to him. His muscles ached, especially his back and arms, from the extra time he’d spent at work the last few days. He’d assigned Jason to dog walking and taken over cleaning out the kennels, hoping that keeping busy with something a little more physically demanding would be a good distraction. It’d worked, too, until he’d remembered this was the exact work Drew did regularly as a volunteer over in Dallas.

This wasn’t the first time Zach had experienced anxiety for days on end, but it was the first time devastating heartache had joined the party. The feeling of crippling self-doubt wasn’t a novelty either, but there were now new additions to the negative soundtrack in his head.

For all his whining to Jen about monthly brunch and needing her as a friend buffer, the one Sunday a month was actually something he looked forward to. Just... not this time. Not when his mom had overheard Drew at the hotel and when she knew Zach had driven home instead of flying. He really wasn’t sure whether he could deal with his mom being extra... extra today.

A few minutes later, his mom came back into the room with full glasses for everyone—except his for his dad, who was still enjoying his coffee. Zach watched his mom as she distributed the drinks and then took a seat. The entire time, she’d been worrying at her bottom lip, like she did when she was trying not to meddle. Zach didn’t need more than one guess to know what she was biting her tongue about.

He wished he was brave enough to just tell her he didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want her overzealous questions about his love life or lack thereof. Especially today. His heart still ached with the pain of losing Drew and his still-uncertain conviction that Drew had to have left because Zach was too much—too talkative, too intense, too... everything.

“Stop that,” Jen hissed under her breath, bumping his leg gently with her own.

He flinched and turned his head, and he raised his eyebrows at her with a somewhat impatient “what?”

She merely leveled a knowing glare at him as if to say “you know perfectly well what.”

And he did, he did know perfectly well what she was saying. In fact, he could almost hear her voice in his head telling him to knock it off and stop thinking terrible things about himself. At this point, given how he was feeling, he wasn’t sure he wanted to listen. But being at brunch with his parents meant that he didn’t really get a choice in the matter anyway.

Zach’s mom cleared her throat, her timing a bit impeccable, as though she had been waiting for Zach and Jen to finish their silent conversation. Hell, Jen had been in his life long enough now and had come to enough brunches that his mom had probably done exactly that.

She gave Zach a soft smile before asking, “So how was the conference, Zachary?”

He blinked, caught a little off guard by the question. “Huh?”

“The conference last week—the one you went to New York for? Flew on a plane across the country for?” His mom’s expression was a mix of concern and confusion.

“Ah, um, it was good.” It took Zach a moment to recalibrate while he tried not to wonder why it felt like seven days ago had been seven months ago instead. “It was really good. Made some important connections that will help us in setting up better outreach and education programs and a strong foundation for the senior program.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear, sweetie,” his mom said, his dad chiming in as well. And Zach took a moment to revel in the pride and admiration he could hear in their voices. That was one thing he didn’t lack for from his parents—praise and love—and it kinda felt really, really good right now .

What little reprieve his parents’ kind words had given Zach from his unease, however, didn’t last long. As the conversation progressed in an unnervingly typical fashion, Zach found his anxiety building back up with every minute his mother didn’t ask about the mystery man from the hotel.

She was usually so overly invested in his life, especially when the topic came anywhere close to his love life, and the fact that she wasn’t asking made him wonder if he was looking as broken on the outside as he felt on the inside. Did he look so terrible that even his mom was treating him with kid gloves? He wished she’d just ask already.

It wasn’t long before they all moved to the dining room table, stopping at the kitchen island to grab drink refills on the way. As usual, his mother had prepared a generous spread of delicious food—french toast, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs with cheese and scallions, and almost every breakfast meat you could imagine, because his father really loved them. Quiche was missing, unsurprisingly. But Zach was relieved this time. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to bear it if it had been there.

Zach shared a bit more about his time at the conference, actively working to shove his other feelings deep down so that maybe he could at least somewhat enjoy quality family time. His mom shared her plans for a spring garden and all the different flowers and vegetables she was going to plant. Jen shared a hilarious but sweet dog story from one of the rescues she’d gone on last week. And his dad shared updates about the latest marketing campaign he was working on for his local auto parts store in an attempt to attract a younger demographic.

They were all nearly finished with their meals by the time Zach had started to relax enough to appreciate the conversation and the company. So when his mother’s question came flying at him out of nowhere, it hit a lot harder .

“So, who was your friend in Pittsburgh, Zach?”

Zach’s heart twisted fiercely, and he immediately felt the hot flush of embarrassment that always came when he was put on the spot. Jen’s hand was on his arm in an instant, and it almost worked to ground him. Almost. He was sure he felt tension from Jen that meant she was gearing up to give his mom an earful, but it was his father who spoke first.

“Nancy! You said you weren’t going to ask him!” His voice was hushed and strained but still audible.

Zach’s eyes darted to his father, who was looking pointedly at Zach’s mother. And for a long moment, while Zach’s heart thundered in his chest, no one at the table spoke. His parents seemed to be engaged in some private, nonverbal conversation.

They’d talked about him. About him and Drew. Oh god, he could just see it in his head, his mom getting off the phone all animatedly and bounding to the next room to tell his dad that Zach had met someone!

God. Zach inhaled sharply, the burn of embarrassment and the sharp pricking of anxiety now running rampant throughout his body, in between and alongside the jagged pieces of his broken heart. His chair made an audible scrape against the floor as he stood abruptly. His heart was thudding and he was hot everywhere, and he had no idea what he was doing. He just—he just needed to get out of there. But his anxiety was clocking in at an eleven, and he was frozen in place, unable to force his feet to move.

Fuck. Fuck, they were staring, all staring at him, and he should sit down. This was rude and his mom didn’t deserve this and god, he wished he could breathe. His legs were tingling, telling him he should sit, but he wanted to run. Needed to not be here.

He jerked at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Jen. It was Jen. He sucked in a trembling breath, and he could only watch the rest of the scene play out, his hearing muted as though someone had turned down the volume too far. Jen was saying something—maybe to his parents, maybe to him—and then her hand on his shoulder moved to his opposite hip, guiding him gently to turn.

Zach wasn’t sure if she was yelling at his parents or consoling them because he couldn’t make out many words over the sound of his own pulse rushing in his ears. He heard a “c’mon” and “complicated” and “okay” and then, louder through the haze, “See you next month, Mr. and Mrs. H.”

Jen’s other hand was on his shoulder now, and they were walking through the house and toward the front door. She paused them to get their coats on, helping Zach into his and making him feel a bit like a child in this hazy reality—but it was good, so good to feel taken care of.

He tried not to let his thoughts wander to Drew, but they went there anyway—Drew holding his hand on the plane and making them tea and laughing at his jokes and telling him he was attractive even with his anxiety and holding him and stroking his cheek after making love to him.

Some sort of wail or whimpering noise pulled his thoughts away from Drew, and Zach realized it must have come from him. Jen was guiding him to the passenger side of her car, and then they both got in and buckled up. Zach managed to hold the rest of it all in until they were off his parents’ street and out of sight—not that it mattered, considering the state he’d left in.

“Dammit,” he cried, his voice breaking on a sob. “What’s wrong with me, Jen?”

“Oh, Zach. Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with you.” Her voice was soft and comforting, just like it’d been all week. “It’s love, you’re in love.”

“He’s not.” Zach’s voice was a pathetic whimper, and he buried his face in his hands .

“I think you’re wrong. You’re letting the anxiety talk.” Her hand came to rest on his knee, and she paused long enough for Zach to know she wanted to see his eyes. He let his hands drag down his face, and he caught her gaze the next time she quickly glanced his way. How she managed to fit so much love and meaning into the half-second look she gave him before returning her eyes to the road, he didn’t know. And not for the first time in the past week, his heart squeezed as wondered how he’d managed to luck out so damn much in the friend department.

But still . . .

“Even if you’re right, Jen, I’m clearly not enough. He left! Left without saying goodbye. In the middle of the night. That was intentional, deliberate. He had to sneak away before I woke up because the thought of letting me down easy was too much for—”

“Stop!” Jen yelled, her eyes still focused on the road.

The energy inside the car changed, and that hot and prickling flood of embarrassment and shame went straight through him. The feeling only grew with every passing second that the silence remained. Jen was looking for a safe place to pull over, he could tell, and he turned away to stare blankly out the passenger’s side window, dreading whatever she had to say.

A moment later, they entered an expansive, empty parking lot, and Zach let his gaze drift to the large, abandoned two-story building at its center. The old multiplex. Ten years ago, this lot had always been full, especially on weekends.

He closed his eyes as Jen pulled into a spot and stopped the car. He still didn’t turn back to look at her, but he heard the swish of fabric against fabric and the slight movement of the car that told him she’d probably shifted to face him.

“Look at me, dude,” she said, her voice containing that edge of best-friend-serious that he didn’t want to deal with right now. So he didn’t move .

“You’re supposed to drop me off at the rescue, remember? I told Javier he could have the rest of the day off.” God, he was so immature, too—clearly not capable of adulting because he was too afraid of having a simple conversation with his best friend.

Her voice was quieter now. “Dude. Zach, please stop.”

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Stop talking shit about yourself in your head. I know you’re doing it.” He saw out of the corner of his eye as she shifted slightly again, then he felt her hand on his shoulder.

He let out a deep breath, and nearly all of the tension left him as he finally turned to look at her. He bit his lip, not quite sure what he could even say, what he wanted to say.

Jen just sat there, her eyes full of love and sympathy, and though his anxiety tried to, Zach couldn’t find any hint of judgment or anger. Only compassion, and the space he needed to gather his thoughts. All week, all week she’d been like this. And it wasn’t like Zach hadn’t known what an amazing friend Jen was already, it was just...

For the better part of a decade, she’d always been there for him, and he’d like to say he had been there for her too. There had never been anyone he’d felt more comfortable with, been able to truly be himself with, felt more loved and accepted by. No one until Drew.

Zach felt the tears burning at the back of his eyes, then spilling out quietly. That was why it hurt so much more. It’d barely been two days’ time, but Zach had felt so certain— still felt so certain—that he loved Drew. Was in love with Drew.

“I thought he loved me too,” Zach whispered hoarsely.

“Oh, Zach. I think he does .”

Zach wanted to argue, to remind her that she hadn’t even been there, to shout that she’d only met him once via video call before—before anything much had even happened between them. But he knew better than to try arguing with Jen right now, and that wasn’t even the point. It wasn’t worth arguing about because whether Drew did or didn’t love him, he’d still left, and had left deliberately without...

“He didn’t even leave a note. So I guess... so I guess I’ll never really know, will I?” He hated how pathetic the argument sounded when he said it out loud. It was true, though, and there were a thousand different things that fact said about their time together and how little it must have meant to Drew.

Jen sighed lightly. “Zach, you of all people should know that life is complicated and complex. Sometimes people do things that don’t seem to make sense. And unless you ask, you can’t really know for sure,” she said, her tone gentle and yet firm at the same time.

“But, I mean...” Zach shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know how to contact him. I can’t—”

“So you’re telling me you spent two days with the guy, talking for hours on end and... ‘ talking ’ for hours on end, and you don’t know enough about the guy to track him down? I call bullshit.”

“He clearly didn’t want to be tracked down, didn’t want me. I don’t even want to know, I don’t want to get my heart—”

“Bull. Shit.”

“No, Jen, no! It’s too—” Zach sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head, blinking back yet more tears. “I don’t want to get my heart broken all over again. What, you want me to google him, call his work, hunt down his contact information or—or drive across all of Texas to show up on his doorstep—if I can even find it—and say ‘Hi, do you love me? Did you mean to just... leave?’”

“Yes! Yes, I want you to do just that!” She leaned forward until her hands gripped both of his shoulders. “I want you to stop burying yourself in your work and breaking your back with all the extra hours at the rescue and torturing yourself inside your head. I will hold down the fort, and you will go get your man! There’s something else going on with him, Zach, I just know it. I just do, okay? So I’m going to cover the rest of Javier’s shift at the rescue, and I’m going to drop your ass off at home so you can pack. Got it?”

Zach inhaled again and dropped his eyes to where his hands sat in his lap, wringing together. God, was she right? Had there been some other reason Drew had left? And could Zach... at least try to find out?

Slowly, he nodded and looked back up at Jen. He didn’t want to hope—because hope left him open again for another broken heart. But his heart already ached so much. And that wasn’t going to go away.

She was right. He had to at least try.