“Thanks for sticking by me.” In a romance novel, by this point, Zack would be approaching me, making the breath catch in my throat, causing my mouth to start watering in anticipation. But he didn’t—and that was as good a sign as any that we were most definitely through.
“Well, yeah—we’re yourfriends, Zack. What kind of friends would we be if we abandoned you in the hour when you needed us most?”
Leaning back against a wall, he crossed his arms and stared at the toe of his boots. “That might be true, but I couldn’t really blame you if you had. I did a lot of shitty things to you guys.”
To me. It was unspoken, but I could feel it in the air.
Still…I’d forgiven him, so I wasn’t about to dredge it up.
“What was rehab like?”
Blowing out a breath, he made eye contact with me again. “Jesus. Which part?”
“There wereparts?”
“Yeah. The first part fucking sucked. I had to detox…and it was, uh…I thinkpainfulmight be an exaggeration, but it was hard. They gave me stuff to help but the bottom line is I’m an addict. I’m an alcoholic, and I had to dry out. There’s no rehabilitation until you get clean.”
Ihadknown about that but hadn’t processed how difficult it would be. “Oh, God. I guess I didn’t even think about that.”
“Don’t feel bad. You’ve never been addicted, so why would you?”
Because I purportedly gave a shit about him—and yet I hadn’t properly put myself in his shoes. “But what about after that?”
“You know? At first, I was kind of resentful…and I felt like everyone there was kinda condescending and stuff. But after a while I realized they really did want to help all of us. They tried to give us tools to cope with shit, you know, and we tried dealing with, uh, trauma.”
Jesus—what could I even say that might not minimize what he’d been through? “Sounds comprehensive.”
“Well, as much as it could be. They encouraged us to stay in counseling once we got out.”
Did I dare ask? Before I could give it much thought, I did. “So?”
“I’m still looking for the right person. But I’ve kind of gotten over my writer’s block and the shit I’m writing now… It’s not for fans. I mean, some of it could be, but most of it is just for me to get that shit off my chest and out of my head.”
Finally, I sat on the bucket, even though a few feet away, Zack still felt like he was towering over me. “That sounds like a great plan.”
“I think it is.” With a sigh, Zack stood and walked around the space as if thinking of how to write down more of what was inside. “How areyoudoing? Uh…you and Braden?”
“We’re good.” I wasn’t about to tell him the whole truth—that Braden knew how to treat me right, the way I felt like I should have been, because Zack hadn’t been able to live up to even my most basic expectations. Yes, it was because he’d been under the influence, but I couldn’t excuse the behavior. Still, I wasn’t going to rub his nose in it. My simple answer was best.
“Good,” Zack said, still exploring the unfinished studio as if inspecting it. “I wouldn’t want to have to kick the shit out of him.”
I forced a laugh, hoping he’d said it to provide a bit of levity. “No need.”
“How would that work anyway?” he said, pausing close tome but still leaving plenty of space between us. “Beating up one best friend for hurting the other.”
I just shook my head. There wasn’t much to say, and this line of questioning felt uncomfortable.
Especially knowing that many of my own feelings were unresolved.
But this conversation with Zack had helped me see it clearly: whatever we’d had was gone. Zack was acting like a best friend or even a brother, wanting to protect me if needed, but not because of any romantic feelings he might have had.
And that was the wake-up call I hoped would jostle my subconscious.See? He doesn’t love me.
But Braden did—and he’d earned every ounce of love I could give him.
And I would.
By mid-January,we were rehearsing in the studio. I had to give Zack credit—he’d created an amazing space for our work, and it only took one day for us to realize how good it felt to be there.
