Chapter 13
Chris
As I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, the pressure of the confrontation on the terrace settles onto my shoulders, leaving me with a restless urge to simply be near Zoe.
I close my eyes, trying to block out the noise of the world, but the memory I have spent eight years trying to keep at bay begins to replay behind my eyelids.
I remember the afternoon clearly. It was just two days after I had received the news that Zoe was pregnant with Nate.
I was sitting in the office with Julian, laughing and trading jokes as we always did.
I recall the careless way I threw my head back, smiling as I spun a ridiculous hypothetical scenario out loud.
"What if, when you step out of the office today and go to get into your car, something just hits you?"
Julian had laughed, shaking his head at my dark humor. "Really, Chris? You have a vivid imagination. But if that ever happens, you promise to take care of my wife, because she’s pregnant too."
We had laughed it off, entirely oblivious. Then I came home that very evening to the news that shattered our lives. A freak accident on the road. A collision. Exactly as I had carelessly described it to my brother before he passed.
The guilt had eaten through my composure like acid.
Every time I looked at Sarai crying at the funeral, a physical sensation of being ripped apart from the inside out would freeze me in place.
Why did I have to play with such words? Why did I say that to my own brother?
Now, the realization that Sarai had been aware of that conversation all this time, using it to anchor her dependency on me, leaves my palms sweating in the dark.
I push myself up from the mattress, unable to stay confined in the silence of my room.
I march down the hallway to Zoe's hotel suite, stopping before the dark wood paneling to knock on the door.
No one answers. Sinking my hands into my pockets, I turn around, preparing to return to my isolation, when the chime of the elevator draws my attention.
Zoe steps out into the corridor, her keys in her hand.
We stop dead in our tracks, standing a few feet apart, simply looking at each other in the dim lighting of the hallway. The silence stretches between us.
"Can I hug you for a bit?" I ask, my voice sounding rough and depleted.
She studies my face for a beat, noting the exhaustion under my eyes, and offers a quiet nod.
I step forward immediately, closing the distance and wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. I bury my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the calming scent of her skin.
Just as I suspected, her presence quietens the raging storm inside of my head.
Holding her close, the crushing pressure in my lungs recedes, leaving me feeling like a brand new creature.
I feel uniquely blessed just to have her arms rest loosely against my back.
"Thank you," I whisper against her skin, slowly loosening my grip so I can step back and look into her eyes. I clear the roughness from my throat. "If I were to ask you out for a date tomorrow, somewhere very quiet, would you come?"
Zoe keeps her gaze steady on mine, her expression unreadable. "It depends."
"There is something that I have been too ashamed to tell you," I confess, the words slipping out fast before my courage can fail me.
"I was terrified that you would see me differently if I did.
And so I just... I want to tell you the truth, and then I want to just...
I don't know, try my luck with you again? "
She looks at me for a long period of time, her chest rising and falling with a slow, measured breath. Finally, she lets out a quiet sigh, her fingers shifting against the metal ring of her room key.
"I'm not in the right frame of mind for this conversation right now, Chris," she says softly, her voice holding a firm line that brooks no argument. "So if you could, please try again next time."
****
Going back into my hotel room, a sudden stuffiness settles over me, making the air feel too thick to breathe.
I turn on my heel and head outside onto the balcony, gripping the railing as the night wind blows past me and ripples my shirt.
While my mind travels through the dark trying to calculate my next move, a dense burden presses onto my thoughts, pressing down so hard that the dark weight threatens to drag my mind into a dark place.
I want to tell her the truth. I want to lay it all bare, but my throat stays tight. Something stops me.
Maybe I am terrified she will see me as less than the man she married. I pause, my fingers tightening against the cold iron of the railing as the true reason surfaces in the dark.
What if I tell her, and she just ups and leaves for good?
A comical, bitter laugh escapes my lips as memories of the past five years track through my brain.
I recall the way I used to look back at her over my shoulder each time I walked out to choose Sarai's emergencies over her.
I used to tell myself it was better for me to tend to Sarai during the day and come back to Zoe at night, where I could sleep close to her body, rather than lose her.
Well, jokes on you, because she left you regardless.
I shake my head, blowing a breath past my teeth. A sudden thought flies into my mind, cutting straight through the self-pity: Instead of dwelling in your hurt, remember you are a man in love. Then act like it. Go crazy. This is your chance to either win her back or lose her for good.
I let out a quiet chuckle at the raw advice I am giving to myself in the dark.