Like hell I’d let her get rid of me that easily. I loved her, even though she didn’t seem to care about that anymore.
I’d given her space because I knew she needed it, but if that very same space was resulting in her to make insane decisions, then I had to at least try to get through to her one more time.
“Why didn’t Amara tell you anything?” Dylan asked Kenneth. “You told us that she’d texted you about Zaira’s visit to your house last week. Wouldn’t they have discussed anything about her decision? Or did she visitbeforeShane’s message?”
Kenneth glanced sideways at me before taking a seat next to the bar. “Ams did tell me about Zaira getting Shane’s text,” he began, and when I glared at him, he put a hand up in surrender. “Sheonlytold me about that, and nothing else. Zaira was at our house, yeah, but she didn’t tell Amara or anyone about her decision. If she had, then my wife would’ve told me about it.
Zaira hasn’t been that interactive with Ams, Ken, or Sloane since then, just like she hasn’t with Dylan. And I didn’t tell you guys about the text because I didn’t think Zaira’s answer would be the one she ended up going with. Hell, I didn’t even speak to Shane about him sending her the message. I thought the whole thing would just blow over, so I’m just as surprised by Zaira’s choice as you all are. I made a mistake, I know, and for that, I apologize.”
“I don’t think Zaira toldanyone,” Shane said with a frown. “That is why she’s being curt towards everyone’s calls and messages. Maybe she needs to process things on her own? Maybe she’ll want to talk about it in detail after she’s feeling a little better?”
“Maybe,” Kenneth said, just as Dylan shrugged and added, “Yeah, perhaps.”
I tipped my head back and finished my scotch, and then set the empty glass on the coffee table before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I don’t know whether I’m turned on by your sudden drinking fever, or concerned about you getting a permanent hangover with you chugging Macallan like its fucking water,” Dylan said, which made Kenneth groan.
“You’re incorrigible,” he told Dylan.
“Andmarried,” Shane joined in.
Dylan rolled his eyes at the two. “Choke me and bury me in Heaton Park, why don’t you,” he grumbled.
“That’s…a very specific request,” Shane stated.
“He’s broken, Shane; don’t bother with him,” Kenneth said.
“Can you guys just leave?” The words came outta my mouth before I could stop myself.
Three pairs of eyes fell on me, and then softened at something they saw on my face.
“Call me if you need anything,” Shane said as he stood up. “And if you can, please try to get some rest. You deserve it, G.” He gave me a faint smile and then walked out the door.
Dylan waved at me before following after him.
Kenneth got to his feet. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Shane’s text to Zaira,” he said. “I feel stupid, man. If only I’d told you, you would’ve been able to get in touch with her sooner.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but it also wasn’t like I could go back in time and revert shit or anything. It wasn’t how life worked, unfortunately.
But what if her decision was one made with certainty? Wouldn’t going back in time be unfair to her, then?
Maybe she really didn’t want anything to do with me, or maybe she was just confused after everything she’d been through.
Christ, I wish I knew. I wish she’d tell me.
Kenneth sighed. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, and it’s the only reason why I’m leaving you alone right now.” He pointed a finger at me. “But you better hit me up if you wanna talk or hang out, alright?”
“I will,” I said to him.
He ran a hand over his jaw. “We’ll have to get back to being media clowns tomorrow, Gall, so I suggest you get some sleep. It’ll help in more ways than one.”
I smiled at him. “I will,Mom.”
He snorted. “Fine, fine.” He chuckled. “I’m going.” He shook his head, sent a quick look of warning in my direction, and then stepped outside my suite before shutting the door behind him.
Once alone, I refilled my glass, finished it off, placed it on the counter, and sat back down on the bed. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened my contacts. My thumb hovered over her name for a few seconds as I thought about getting to talk to her after more than a month of staying out of touch with her.
But would she even pick up?
Roaming charges were a bitch, but I didn’t give six shits about them as I tapped her name and hit the call button.
“You better pick up, Zaira,” I prayed in a whisper. “You better fucking pick up.”
