It’s killing me all over again that I can’t make this right.
“Zane, even if that were possible, I would still remember. And it’s not just that. I love Cal and my future is with him. I know you don’t want to hear this, and I understand why, but you’ve got to let me go.” She nudges a clump of grass with her foot. “I need you to move on because I want you to be happy. You deserve happiness.” Her eyes look shiny but she rapidly composes herself.
“Well, then, don’t do this!” I yell, hopping up. “The only way I can be happy is to be with you.” I cringe inwardly at my blatant neediness.
“I’m sorry, Zane.” She rises. “Truly, I am.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m already gone,” she says softly.
The look of determination on her face signals it’s a done deal. I’m seconds away from losing my mind. I can’t think. Can’t breathe. Confusion and hurt and pain, God, so much pain, churn inside me. I don’t want her to see me like this, because that will only make it harder for her. “I need some time,” I say, without looking up.
“Sure,” she whispers. “Take whatever time you need. I’ll be back at the house.” She hesitates a second before walking away.
My eyes track her until she’s gone, and then I slither to the ground, dejected and heart sore. Hugging my arms around my waist, I stare numbly into the distance. Acute pressure wells inside me and the dam erupts. My whole body shakes with gut-wrenching sobs. All the pent-up emotions I’ve kept trapped deep inside rush to the surface—the heart-splintering ache when she was first torn from me; the years of longing and craving her touch; the constant worry over her safety, and our difficult reunion as I had to witness another boy’s arms comforting her in place of mine. All the to-ing and fro-ing when we were in Clementia’s compound tossed my heart from side to side, and I was forced to watch from the sidelines while she struggled to sort out her warring emotions.
All that anguish for nothing.
To end up here.
Unlike all those other times, I have no hope now. It’s been sucked clear out of me.
She is lost to me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do or say that will change that. My chest heaves at the harrowing realization.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but it must be hours, because gradually I become aware of the cooler air swirling over my skin, causing tiny goose bumps to lift on my arms. The sky darkens in recurring waves until I sit in the pitch black.
“Zane,” Ari calls out silently. “Please come inside.”
I trudge back to the house with a heavy heart. Ari moves as if to hug me but then stops, unsure of the boundaries. Concern shimmers in her eyes with the pain of the knowledge that she is the cause of my suffering. “I kept you some dinner,” she says quietly, taking the lid off a plate.
“I’m not very hungry.”
“You need to eat, Zane. Please.” She pulls out the chair and drags me into it, folding a fork in my hand. My body moves as if on autopilot. I eat and drink silently, my head bowed, unable to look at her.
I’m hanging on by the tips of my fingernails. I’ve always thought she was the one, so seeing her now kills me inside.
She removes my dishes when I’m finished and washes them in the sink. It’s as if I’m rooted to the chair. I wish I wasn’t here, and there was somewhere else I could go to fully give into this. Now that she’s made this decision, it’s excruciating being in her company when every part of my being cries out to hold her, to touch her. I will never again get to experience that, and the realization guts me as if I’ve taken a knife to the stomach.
“You look exhausted,” she says. And I am, the soul-crushing emotional heartache adding to the usual tiredness. “Come on, I’ll show you to bed.”
Somehow, I manage to drag my weary body to the bedroom. My backpack is already in the room. Ari grabs a few things and then moves to the door. “Sleep well,” she whispers, sorrow etched on her face.
“Wait,” I say, as she steps out of the room and starts to close the door. “Where are you sleeping?”
“I’ll take the couch. It’s fine,” she says, before I can raise any objection. “It’s plenty big and very comfortable.”
Finally, I come out of my trance-like state. “You can’t sleep on the couch when you’re pregnant. I’ll take the …” I start to say but trail off. And though I know this is likely to multiply my pain ten-fold, whether she says yes or no, the words fly out of my mouth. “Sleep here with me.” Her face contorts and I’m afraid she might cry. “Just to sleep. Please, let me hold you one last time.” I step toward her. “Please.” I’m on the verge of dropping to my knees and begging. Though I know in the long run this is only going to add to my grief, right now, I need her comfort, strange and all as that might sound.
Clearly reading something in my gaze, or perhaps she picks up on my emotions, she takes pity on me. “Okay.”
Sliding into the bed beside me, she breathes heavily with apprehension. I scoot over beside her, my front to her back, and wrap my arms around her waist. Her belly is swollen under my hands, a very real slap in the face. “Is this okay?” I whisper into her ear. She nods and I eat a mouthful of hair. Very carefully, I smooth her hair back and stroke it gently until her eyelids flutter shut. As I watch her while she sleeps, her beauty arrests me. I know I’m going to pay for this later, but I can’t stop staring at her, and my finger traces a delicate line across her face. She moans in her sleep and the sound guts me.
At some point, I must have drifted to sleep, because when I wake, I’m alone in the bed and a thin shaft of golden yellow light marks a line on the floor of the bedroom. The pain of the previous day instantly rises to attack me on all sides, and I wish I could just sleep the day away.
The door creaks as it opens and Ari peers into the room. “Good afternoon, sleepy head.”
“What?” I ask, sitting up in the bed.
“It’s after three. You’ve been asleep most of the day.” I guess it’s the resulting combination of exhaustion, heartache, and different time zones messing with my body clock.
“Wow,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my jaw.
“I left some clothes on the bed for you. It’s too hot to wear pants, and I figured you didn’t bring any shorts with you.”
My eyes flit to the tan shorts and white T-shirt emblazoned with what I can only guess is some type of old Greek symbol. “Thanks.”
“I’ll fix you something to eat while you dress.” The door closes with a resounding thud. It feels symbolic.
I join Ari, Taylor, and Aggie outside. Ari has set up lunch on a rusted, black wrought iron table. As I drop into the seat beside her, she hands me a khaki green cap. “Sunglasses are a luxury no one can afford around here. This will help shelter you from the sun.”
“Thanks.”
I seem to have mastered the art of one-word replies.
She piles a plate high with salad and cold meat and adds a piece of bread before handing it to me. “Let me guess,” she says, pinning me with a look, “thanks?”
A weak smile graces the corners of my mouth. “Yes, and for the clothes too.” Though the T-shirt swamps me and the shorts are way too baggy around my waist, I feel more comfortable in these than I did in my own clothes yesterday.
“Thank T, he donated them.”
I’m in Taylor’s hand-me-downs. Great. No wonder they don’t fit. “Thanks, man.”
Taylor tips his cap and grins.
After eating, Ari asks if I’d like to bike down to the beach. Potent yearning to be as close to her as I can for these last few remaining hours overwhelms everything else and I nod quickly.
I’ll deal with the consequences later.
It’s a good hour’s cycle to the beach. Ari points out various places as we make our descent, and I’m content to listen to her voice and revel in the sight, sound, and smell of her. On some unconscious level, I recognize that I’m trying to take a lifetime’s fill of her.
I yelp as my
bare foot lands on the beach, the scorching heat of the sand almost burning my skin. Ari laughs and runs toward the sea. Sinking down at the edge, she dips her toes in the water and stretches back. I mirror her position. A welcome breeze whips at my face, and I close my eyes, soaking up the feel of the sun on my skin, the warm water lapping at my feet, and the sand underneath my fingers.
“I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?”
I open my eyes and look at her. Her tender concern is almost my undoing. As we stare at each other, an abundance of emotion is reflected in both our eyes. Her mask slips for a second and I see the depth of her pain.
She hurts because I hurt.
I can never willingly be the cause of her pain, and I know what I need to do to make this right. “I’ll be okay. Your happiness means everything to me, and it’s not like I haven’t ever thought that this might happen.” That much is true.
Now onto the lie. “I love you enough to let you go. I faced this reality when I thought I was dying and I made my peace with the notion of you and Cal. I’ve always said I would respect your choice and I do. But it’s more than that.” Desensitizing my heart and mind, I stare intently into her eyes. The words almost kill me on the way out. “I’m ready to move on too. I can say goodbye and it’s not the end of the world.”
Except it is.
My world ceased to exist the minute she told me she couldn’t be with me.
But she’s never going to know because I won’t cry on the outside anymore.
It doesn’t matter that she says she still loves me.
She loves him more.
Pushing these thoughts aside before they betray me, I plant an even smile on my face. Not a full-blown grin—she’d never believe that.
Her eyes fixate on mine, and I know she’s tapping into my emotions. So I visualize a happy time in my mind, recalling the night of Ari’s fifteenth birthday, when we first confirmed our love for each other. I relive it all, in every glorious detail, until her shoulders relax. Tentatively, she reaches over and hugs me. The scent and feel of her threatens to overpower my self-control. But I cling to the happy memory in my head and relish the opportunity to hold her in my arms one last time.
She withdraws gently and smiles at me. “You’re still so important to me, Zane. Don’t ever think you’re not. I know it may not be possible to be friends straightaway, but I hope in time we can reclaim our friendship.”
“Me, too,” I say, though my heart is breaking in two. I can’t even contemplate whether I have the emotional stability for that.
We amble back to the house, and I help Ari fix dinner. It’s a quiet affair as Aggie has already retreated to her room for the night, and Taylor has made himself scarce again. We talk quietly for a couple of hours, sharing our grief over the demise of loved ones and discussing Saoirse’s plans for the revolution. When Ari yawns, I insist she takes the bedroom, and I settle down on the couch for the night.
Aldo turns up at midday the next day, and I enfold Ari in my arms one last time. “Stay safe,” I whisper, my voice cracking. Slipping out of our embrace, I turn and follow Aldo, ignoring the ache in my heart and the yearning to turn around and throw myself at her, begging her to reconsider.
By the time we reach the boat, my emotions are already in tatters. Fedro greets me warmly, as if I’m a long lost son. I throw my mental shields up quickly in case Ari is tempted to check in with me.
Then I head underneath the cabin, fling myself against the bench, and finally succumb to my heartache.
CHAPTER 10
I throw myself into my IT work in the weeks following my visit to Greece. Malcolm knows something went down between Ari and me but he doesn’t pry. I’m certain he recognizes the signs all the same; however, he respects my privacy as I respect his. I can tell that Anneka’s death isn’t getting any easier, though he hasn’t confided in me.
We talk about everything else except the glaring holes in both our lives.
I feel the pain of Ari’s loss as acutely as ever. I’ve deliberately kept my shield up most of the time because I don’t want her to know. If I let her catch even a glimpse of my suffering, she’ll know I’m lying and that will only add to her guilt.
I won’t do that to her.
I’ve had to lower my guard on occasion, mostly when Malcolm asks me to check in with her. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times—when I’ve felt emotionally strong enough to lie—and she is doing well. For that, I’m grateful.
Ben knows what happened, and it’s ironic that he’s the only one I can talk to. He listens objectively and his silent support means more to me than words. I trust him not to repeat what I’ve said to Cal, and I know he’s loath to interfere. Besides, Cal has been assigned to the field for weeks now, and he’s only had minimal contact with him.
Mel bounds through the door of the IT room carrying a white paper cup. She makes a beeline for me, her long blonde hair swishing over her shoulder as she walks. I match her wide smile. “Morning, Zane. The regular,” she says, handing the cup of green tea to me. For some unknown reason, Mel and Ruby have taken it upon themselves to act as my own personal version of Mother Teresa. If I don’t take regular breaks to relax, eat and drink, or throw in the towel at a reasonable hour, one of them is always there to yell at me. I don’t know if Ari has had a hand in this or not, but their concern for, and care of, me is the only bright spark in the darkness.
Mel’s eyes dart to the screen, and she crouches down staring at the images of soldiers and rebels in the field. “Still searching?” she asks, straightening up.
“Yep.” Taking the lid off the cup, I inhale the familiar aroma.
“Any luck yet?” she asks, balancing against the desk.
“No, nothing.” Ignoring the anguished lump in my throat, I take a sip of the tea. I spend an hour every morning scouring the video images for any glimpse of Isla. Having hacked into the government’s satellites, I can discreetly access camera feeds from all over the world. I load a software recognition program through the data every morning, but so far, the search has turned up empty. If Isla managed to disappear, she’s doing a damn fine job. The longer the search continues, the more my hope dwindles. I know there’s a strong possibility that she perished when the government blew up the Clementia Connecticut facility, but I can’t seriously contemplate that yet.
My heart is still way too fragile for that.
“Hey, you okay?” Mel says, clasping my arm. Her hand lingers on my skin. I was a million miles away.
“Yeah. I’m just worried, you know?” I gently remove my arm. I’ve noticed she’s frequently finding ways to touch me or brush against me, and I don’t even want to consider what that’s all about.
“Any news yet on your mom and brother?”
“Still nothing on that front either.” A familiar angst twists in my stomach. It’s been months since I’ve seen my family, and though I’ve missed them every single day, the intensity of my need has accelerated in the last few weeks. If anything has happened to them, I’ll never forgive myself. As it is, I already feel enormous guilt over the fact that they believe I’m dead. But once Clementia blew up my home and I’d gone underground, there was no way of safely contacting them to let them know I was okay.
“I hope you get good news soon.” Her face softens and she smiles shyly at me.
Mel embodies the very best of the Remus family. Ari would be pleased at how well she’s looking after Deacon in her absence. He doesn’t yet know that she’s his half-sister, but they’re as close as siblings already, a consequence of all the time they spent together in Clementia. I know Commander Remus is still trying to force Malcolm’s hand, but thankfully, they are both too engrossed in planning this revolution to devote priority to it. It’s only a matter of time though.
“You heading to the Training Unit?” I ask, pushing back my chair and standing up.
“Yeah, another thrilling day ahead.”
Her face drops and I’m sorry for bringing up the touchy subject.
It strikes me then how similar she is to Ari, in some ways. “I’ll walk with you. I’ve to attend a meeting in the amphitheater.”
“Cool.” Her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “I don’t see what the issue is, except that I’m surrounded by overbearing, overprotective clowns who refuse to accept that I can look after myself,” she tells me as we walk.
“You’ve only just turned seventeen, Mel. As much as I hate to agree with anything your father says, I do see his point.” And there’s a whole heap of truth in that. Mel hadn’t completed her full Cadet training on Planet Novo and she has never been in the line of fire, so even though she feels like she could handle it, she’s unproven. At least Commander Remus cares enough to want to protect her from that. Perhaps, it’s as Mel has continually said. He has changed and is genuinely trying to make amends. She’s just not happy at the manner in which he’s gone about it.
“Not you as well!” She shoots me a half-glare, and I have to work hard to stop the grin from creeping its way on to my face.
“People care about you. Is that so bad?”
Her eyes sparkle briefly. “I guess not. But I’m fed up being stuck down here. Cal won’t even let me go visit him for a few days.” She frowns.
“I didn’t know you’d spoken to him recently. How is he?” I’m not actually asking that, but I don’t want to put it straight out there. I’ve no idea if he has spoken with Ari or what the state of their relationship is at this point. I know I shouldn’t care but I can’t help it or the teeny tiny sliver of hope that lies dormant in my heart at the thought that maybe she might reconsider if things genuinely are over between them.
“Moody as hell,” she replies.
“Same ole, same ole,” I retort and she snorts.
“I won’t tell him you said that. No point in making him even grumpier. I know this is connected to Ari, but he won’t talk about her at all.” She shakes her head and then her features freeze. “Oh, shoot. Sorry, Zane.” She bites down on her lip.
Destiny Rising Page 14