Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Present Day
What kind of person am I to just expect help without even asking first? To expect Zev to go on a date with me when that’s never been our kind of relationship?
Ugh. Zev is going to regret the day he ever spoke to me in the café.
I huff out a breath and pause in my living room, pacing—
“Oh, just text him already,” Grammy says, passing through from the kitchen to her bedroom.
I told her about my insane double date. Because I can’t tell Fran—she’d be livid—and I had to tell someone. So, yes, Grammy knows that my not-so-real boyfriend Zev and I are supposed to double with Robert and his very real wife.
How did I get myself into this situation? Robert I know—but Margo? She is a blank page. Someone who knows me, someone who supposedly betrayed me. No matter how I’ve tried, I can’t conjure a face for her. Or even one memory of her.
Just the thought sends my nerve endings into a panic.
In what world did I ever think this was a good idea? Am I really so desperate to see Robert? To move forward?
Apparently, I am.
While Grammy did not approve of this setup, she is glad the “redhead” is tagging along. I am, too. Zev may be the only thing keeping me together during this double date. That man calms my panic like a lullaby soothes a restless baby.
And except for the small detail that I haven’t asked him yet, I feel stronger just knowing he’ll be there.
That is if he agrees to go… there’s the minor problem that even though he doesn’t know Robert, he’s formed a very strong opinion on the man, and it’s not a positive one. He might not say yes. He might tell me I’m a masochist and he won’t support insanity.
Who would blame him?
I resume pacing in the living room—it helps me think. Then I pull out my phone because one thing is for sure: I won’t survive this date without Zevulun.
Me: I planned something kind of stupid.
Zev: Did you want to share? I’m all ears.
Me: And I need your help.
Zev: To do this stupid thing?
Me: Yes.
Me: Are you in?
Zev: Do I get to know what it is first?
Me: No. Are you in?
Zev: You’ll be there?
My cheeks flush with warmth. We may only be friends, but Zev knows how to make a girl feel seen.
Me: I’ll be there.
Zev: Then I’m in.
If I weren’t struggling with feelings for someone else right now—someone I absolutely cannot have—I would have to take more than a minute to admire how absolutely adorable Zevulun Hayes is.
Only—one problem at a time.
Zev: Do I get to know now?
Me: Robert texted me.
Me: He invited us out on a double date.
Zev: You’re kidding.
Zev: You cannot be serious.
Me: I am dead serious. More dead than the hamster I had back in third grade, who I insisted was sleeping soundly rather than what she was, a furry little corpse.
Might as well rip off the band-aid.
Me: And I accepted.
Silence. Thought bubbles. The man has nothing left to say. He is about to unfriend me. Any second now…
Me: Zev?
Zev: I’m here.
Me: You think I’m foolish.
Zev: I think the situation is bizarre. I don’t understand why your married ex would invite you to do anything.
Me: Maybe he wants to be friends. Robert was important to me once. I would much rather be friends with him than harbor ill feelings.
Me: Will you come with me?
Zev: There is no way I’m letting you go alone. If you are insisting on going, I’ll be there.
And just like that, Zevulun Hayes does not unfriend me but comes to my rescue like the calming, muscle man, superhero he is.
Zev offered to pick me up, and I told him to stay in the car, that my grammy would have questions—ones he wouldn’t want to answer.
The truth is, I don’t want her asking all her questions or referring to him as “the redhead” or possibly flirting with him.
Surprisingly, when I told her that he wouldn’t be coming up to the door, she didn’t complain.
I don’t know how I got so lucky. Because Grammy would normally be full of things to say about a man staying in his car for a woman rather than knocking on her door.
Maybe she’s just glad I’m going out.
“You look nice,” Zev says as I slide into his passenger seat. But he doesn’t exactly sound happy with the compliment.
“Thanks.” I peer down at the red blouse and denim skirt I’m wearing.
Zev’s jaw clenches. “Did you dress up for him?”
I swallow, my throat tight. “For Robert?”
“Yeah. Is the blush on your cheeks—that you never wear—for me, Robert, or yourself?” His brows lift. “Only two of those answers are acceptable.”
Whoa. How does he know I never wear blush? Zevulun Hayes is way too observant. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to snarl tonight? You’ve put on your judgy pants and you’re criticizing my makeup. You don’t get to do that.”
“I’m not snarling,” he says with a most definite snarl. “I’m just thinking about this date with your ex and his wife.”
My pulse thrums faster. Margo. I’m about to face Margo. Can I do this?
Ugh. “Well, when you put it like that, of course it sounds bad.” I grind my teeth, my nerves rising.
I count and breathe like Dr. Case taught me.
And I talk rather than process my anxious feelings over Margo.
“Are you going to act like this all night? I’ve never seen this side of you before.
And as your fake girlfriend, I feel like it’s my job to tell you that it’s less than adorable. ”
Zev grunts, which is also not adorable, by the way.
“Great time for our first fight,” I mutter.
“It’s hardly our first,” he grumbles back.
I cross my arms in a tight fold. “Whatever that means.”
A low rumble tremors in his throat and he runs his fingers along the straight line of his jaw. “Sorry.”
“Are you going to be okay?” I shut my eyes and pull in a breath. “I know I coerced you into this date and I’m making you pretend and… it’s less than ideal. I’m sorry about that.”
He huffs—he might be turning into a dragon, there is so much invisible steam snarling from his nostrils. “Rosalie. I don’t care about any of that.”
I give him the side eye—because, frankly, I don’t believe the dragon. “You don’t?”
“I care about you. And this doesn’t feel healthy.”
That’s what Fran would tell me, too. I press my lips together. “I don’t know how to explain this—” Especially since Zev doesn’t know my current situation. “But I need to do this. If Robert and I can be friends, maybe I can feel some sort of closure. Maybe I can move on.”
His cheeks puff as he blows out a long, fireless breath. “Fine. What’s our story then?”
Nothing flits through my brain except for the story of how I met Robert. And that one is taken. “Can we just make it up as we go along?”
Zev shifts the car into drive. “You’re living on the edge, Conrad.” And just like that, the dragon is gone; my friend Zev is back.
“I’m guessing they won’t ask about us.” I lean back in my seat and we’re off.
I spot Robert the minute we enter the restaurant, a tiny woman with long auburn hair beside him. A woman I do not know. A person who is going to know me.
Crap.
“Wait,” I halt, taking two steps back toward the exit, my heart racing.
“Rosalie?”
I thrust my hand into Zev’s, willing his Zev magic to calm me immediately. “Is this okay?” I swallow, my throat dry, holding up his hand that I have suction cupped to my own. “For our story.”
His eyes drop to knotted fists. “Yeah, it’s okay.” He adjusts our hold, lacing his fingers through mine. Warmth spreads over my left hand and I instantly feel better. I’m so grateful I’m not alone. He’s giving me hope that I just might avoid a panic attack today.
With his other hand, Zev cups my cheek. “Hey, it’s going to be all right. I’m here. Okay?”
I nod in his hold, certain he can feel my pulse thrumming through our clasped hands.
We walk toward the pair, and Margo waves. Why couldn’t she do me a favor and forget all about me?
I fill my lungs with air and hold to Zev’s hand. It’s going to be fine. She and Robert clearly don’t know about my accident. And because of that accident I don’t really understand the feelings of being a person that Margo betrayed.
Still, when Margo, the stranger, holds out her arms as if to hug me, I pretend that I do understand those feelings.
I muster my pride, and nod at her. No hugs from the stranger who makes my best friend wary.
“Hey, Rose.” Robert leans in, kissing my cheek. I’m not sure he even notices Zev whose hand I still clutch. Robert sounds like he’s always sounded—as if he adores me. He absolutely does not sound like a man who cheated on his girlfriend. And yet his tone changes with— “You remember Margo.”
I grin a little too widely. My breath catches, but with Zev next to me, I recover. “I do. I remember her so, so clearly.”
Zev squeezes my hand, not even realizing how much strength he’s giving me right now. He’s the one person here that I do see clearly. He’s also the one person who truly doesn't know either of these people.
“Oh! Right!” I bare my teeth and grin. I look up to Zev, who is somehow taller than Robert. And Robert Pattinson is tall—six feet two inches. “This is my boyfriend, Zev. Zev, you remember Robert.”
Zev lifts his chin. He is determined to be unfriendly.
“And this is his wife, Mar—go.” I say—almost like a human. Almost like my brain isn’t broken and my nerves aren’t threatening to spiral.
Margo has learned her lesson and holds out a hand to shake Zev’s. No attempts at a hug this go-around. However, Zev’s right hand is locked in my left. He lifts our knotted fists as if to say he won’t be touching her today.
He’s being grumpy on purpose.
This isn’t his normal disposition.
Maybe he’s been talking to Fran. She would have told him that we very much dislike Margo. And I suppose I should dislike her too. But really, she only makes me anxious. She’s just another person who knows me that I don’t know. And normally I avoid those people like the plague on steroids.
Margo’s hand crumples into a fist, falling to her side. “So, um, what do you do, Zev?”