by Kyra Fox
“Everything I do is because I love you.” Those big chestnut-colored doe eyes bore into my very soul. “Just don’t shut me out, okay?”
“Okay.” Another lie.
There are parts of me I’m never unlocking, not to anyone and definitely not to Zoe. That darkness, I keep deep down. If I ever let her see that part of me, she’d realize how utterly broken beyond repair I really am, and she’ll walk away and never look back.
That’s a dark place I’m never going to be able to come back from.
Chapter Eighteen
MAC
“Hey.”
I had just walked in from work to find Zoe sitting on the couch looking nervous as hell. “Hey.” I lean down and kiss her. “Everything okay?”
“The cop that helped us release your mother’s body? I bumped into him today on the way to a meeting.”
I feel my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach. “Okay.” I sit down on the other edge of the sofa.
“He told me he’s been trying to contact you about the file on your mom you left at the precinct. That he’s still holding on to it for you if you want to notify the rest of her family.” Zoe looks up at me, almost begging me to give her the answer she wants to hear. “Does Philip know about the file?”
“That’s…” I take a deep breath to steady myself. “That’s none of your business, Zoe.”
“You can’t hide this from him, Eric, he deserves to know.” Her voice sounds so vulnerable. In any other scenario, I would have forgotten I was even considering to be angry, but this, this is too much for me to handle right now.
“I don’t care!” I yell and jump off the couch, starting to pace in the room. “I have zero interest in revisiting that part of my life, and it’s none of your business to make me!”
“I’m not trying to make you do anything.” Tears spring to her eyes and her lip quivers. “But this is as much Philip’s as it is yours.”
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“You can’t keep living like you’re all alone in the world, Eric.” Tears are streaking down her cheeks now, and her voice is shaking as she talks.
“What are you talking about, Zoe?” I’m spiraling into full-blown panic mode. Everything is spinning in my head like a hurricane—my mom, Philip, Lenny, Miss Audrey, Zoe, my father, all a blur of people who I’m just not enough for.
“You think I don’t see it, Eric?” She’s taking little sharp breaths between words as if fighting not to burst into sobs. “The way you seem to be waiting for me to leave you all the time. That’s why you keep putting up walls whenever I try to talk to you about your childhood; you think if you let me in, I’ll decide you’re not enough.”
Her words hit me like a wrecking ball, aiming at my most fortified walls and knocking them down with ease. As if almost three decades of pain and sacrifice used as mortar and bricks are nothing but castles built of sand.
“Only I’m not enough, am I?” It hurts too much, to open that chapter of my life again, and if Zoe can’t accept that, then she doesn’t really love me. “Because here you are, trying to change me.”
“I’m not trying to change you.” She takes a step toward me with her hand stretched out, but I take two steps back. “I love you for everything that you are, the dark side and the much larger part of you that is good and full of light. Please, Eric, please don’t shut me out.”
“I’ve given you everything I have to give, Zoe.” I feel beaten and battered. “I don’t have anything left that isn’t already yours.”
Zoe wraps her arms around her middle as if resigned to how this conversation is going to end and protecting her vital organs to the best of her ability. “I love you, Eric, I’ll never walk away from you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” I snarl at her. “Just looking for an excuse to walk away from me, because I’m just not good enough the way I am?”
“No. I’m right here, where I always was.” Zoe isn’t crying anymore, just looking into my eyes with unbearable pain that causes my heart to fracture. “Please, don’t leave. We can talk this out. I know you’re scared of telling Phil because he might want to open the files. I get it. You don’t have to tell him today, but you’re going to have to eventually, so let’s figure it out together. You’re not alone. Just stay.”
“I made my choice. You don’t get to meddle with my life and then blame me when things don’t go your way.”
“I never asked that you open the files, Eric. All I’m asking is that you acknowledge the options their existence gives you.” Zoe is staring at me with wide eyes, begging me not to go down that road. “Open the files or don’t, I’ll accept any choice you make, and I’ll stand by you no matter what.” Her lip starts quivering again, and she stands, attempting to approach me once more. “Eric, please, we don’t have to decide anything now, just… Please.”
“You should have left it alone, Zoe.” I hear the crack in my voice. I’m too far gone into my distress to be able to make a different choice at this point. “You should have let the past stay in the past.”
Zoe wipes the tears with the palm of her hand and picks up a calling card for an Officer Noah Stratton, then hands it to me. “Philip deserves to make this choice for himself, so please, whatever you decide for yourself don’t force your decision on him. Don’t keep him stuck in that darkness with you just because you’re scared.”
I take the card reluctantly from Zoe and shove it into the pocket of my jacket.
“Eric…” She grabs my arm and looks at me with pleading eyes in a last attempt to make me change my mind.
“Goodbye, Zoe.” I turn my back to her, and her hands slip off me with defeat.
I close the door behind me with a silent click. The second it shuts I hear a heart-wrenching sob from the other side, and the fracture in my heart explodes, creating a black hole where my chest used to be.
Deep down, I always knew this moment would come. That Zoe and I were too good to last. I just never imagined how much it would hurt when it finally ended.
ZOE
I bail on happy hour.
It’s more than I can stomach right now, losing Eric like that and not having my best friends around to hug me through it. Not something I shared with them, of course, I don’t want to guilt-trip them for living their lives. So I just sent a factual text on Thursday evening telling them it’s over and that I don’t feel like happy hour. I received a few broken hearts and crying emojis in response, which did so much in the way of making me feel better, as you can imagine.
So, when there’s a knock on my door on Friday afternoon, and I find Phoebe standing there with a bottle of Zacapa in one hand, a bag of ice in the other and a small suitcase at her feet, I have to admit I’m kind of shocked.
“Hey, Zo.” She throws her arms around me in a tight embrace, the ice landing smack in the middle of my back, causing me to shudder from the cold. “Trista should be here within the hour.”
“Uh...” I can’t seem to think of anything to say to that.
“She’s getting the Vanilla Toffee Crunch.” Phoebe lets go of me and just walks into our apartment.
My apartment.
No one other than me lives here anymore, I remind myself.
Funny thing is, that slip could have been about Phoebe as much as it was about Eric. She was my roommate for a good few years after all. But lying to myself is just sad at this point. This had been Eric’s home for the past month at least, and he’s everywhere I look.
His sneakers on the shoe stand next to the door, his favorite beer still stocked in the fridge. Groceries I can’t name, let alone cook, scattered in the kitchen. His clothes in the closet, his shampoo in the shower and his scent on everything.
“Can we start drinking, or are we waiting for Tris?” I pull in the suitcase and close the door, heading to the kitchen where Phoebe is trying to maneuver the ice into the freezer.
“When did the freezer get so packed?” she huffs in irritation.
“Eric,”
I state simply, and Phoebe stops struggling, looking at me with sadness in her eyes.
“We can drink but bear in mind that whatever you tell me you’ll have to repeat when Tris gets here.” She pulls out two lowballs and throws ice in them, and I open the bottle of rum.
“How’s work?” We pour ourselves a hefty portion and go sit in the living room.
“Same, same.” Phoebe shrugs and takes a sip. “There are whispers of a new client, big real estate shark, could be interesting.”
“That sounds good. Could it push your promotion forward?” I expect Phoebe to be excited when she nods, but she just seems resigned.
“If I handle some of his work, play my cards right, bring in a few more clients, sure.” I always wondered why Phoebe went to corporate law. She’s a great lawyer, but her fire and fight always screamed DA’s office or defense attorney.
“Why don’t you pitch Davey and Mikey?” Trista’s older brothers are like our older brothers, they’d do anything for us, at the very least hear Phoebe out. “Bringing in a client like Carrot Top Records is a guarantee for partnership.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Phoebe’s eyes drop to her drink. “Hey, how are you?”
“Bad, worse, then just bad again.” I shrug, taking a sip. “But, also, somehow better.”
“You seem different, Zo.” Phoebe’s gaze softens as she looks me over. “I like that you’ve grown out your hair.”
“Thanks.” I haven’t had my hair longer than my ears since graduating high school, but lately, I felt more like myself and letting it grow out just felt right. “I feel different.”
“How so?” Phoebe cocks her head in curiosity.
“Like there’s this entire part of me that was dormant and being with Mac woke it up. A part of me that makes me feel like I’m really alive and not just living, even though I didn’t even know that I never felt alive before. I thought I was mostly crushing it at life.” I feel the tears start stinging. “At the beginning, I thought it was just a mask I wore around him and then I told myself it was something he brought out of me, that without him it would be gone. But eventually, I realized he had just exposed it, and I chose to set it free and embrace it.”
“Yeah.” Phoebe’s eyes mist over, and she seems lost in her own thoughts for a few seconds.
“I wanted to be that person for him, Phoebe.” I can’t stop the tears from flowing freely. “I thought my love would be enough, but he left all the same.”
“Oh, Sweetie.” Phoebe throws herself at me and hugs me fiercely.
“I could really use that ice cream right about now.” I laugh through my tears, and as if reading my mind, the door swings open and Trista walks in with half a dozen pints of my favorite flavor and carryon luggage for the weekend.
“You guys started the crying without me? Not fair.” Trista pouts, locking the door behind her.
“We’ve only just begun,” I promise with a grim smile. “Go get a glass and spoons.”
Trista goes to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with an open ice cream pint and some spoons, no bowls because best friends don’t need bowls.
“What did I miss?” Trista asks with a mouth full of crunchy toffee bits. We fill her in, and I get another big hug though I didn’t burst into tears this time around. We finish the pint and start another as I tell them the whole story of the breakup.
“You need revenge!” Trista declares, earning an incredulous look from Phoebe and me.
“This isn’t a telenovela, Tris.” I can tell Phoebe is trying, unsuccessfully, not to roll her eyes.
“I wasn’t talking some elaborate scheme,” Trista huffs at our dismissal. “More along the lines of drinking all his beer.”
“You just want a beer, don’t you?!” I guffaw, doubling over as Trista’s cheeks turn a bright red.
“Oooh, I want a beer.” Phoebe bounces on the sofa.
“Beer does sound good,” I agree when I finally calm down. “I’ll go get us some.”
Even though I can still sense the absence of Eric, the apartment feels so full all of a sudden. Having the three of us breathing the same air again has more impact than I imagined, and I know deep down that everything is going to be okay.
Chapter Nineteen
MAC
"Hey, Lenny, can we talk?” I poke my head into the office. It’s been four weeks since my mom died, two since I’d returned to the shop and one since I ended things with Zoe. I figure this is just another piece of my life to throw to hell and get it over with.
“Sure, kid.” Lenny looks up at me and smiles that fatherly smile I’m so acquainted with, which makes it that much harder for me to break his heart like I’m about to. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been better, I guess.” I sit down and shrug. “A lot of things have been going on lately.”
“Yeah, Tim told me about Zoe.” Lenny seems to ponder the matter. “A real shame. That girl, she was something special.”
I feel the black hole in my chest pulse, sucking in some of the light from the room.
“Yeah, too good to be true, I guess.” Lenny gives me such a stern look I’m taken aback; I haven’t even told him why I’m here, and already I’ve somehow pissed him off.
“What can I do for you, Mac?” His voice turns all business. I’m trying to understand what I said that offended Lenny but decide to let it go. Lenny might as well already be icy toward me when I deliver the news.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to take over the shop when you retire.” That gets Lenny’s attention.
“What do you mean?”
I’m rubbing my neck nervously; I really don’t want to have to drop this on him. “I did some calculations. The funeral expenses and hospital bills… It’s too big a dent in my savings.” I exhale with exasperation. “Even if I quit school and work doubles, I’ll never manage to earn back the money I lost. I’ll never have enough for a down payment for the shop when you decide to retire.”
“Mac…” Lenny’s gaze softens, but I’m a roll.
“So, either way, I won’t be able to take over the shop. I’m really sorry, Lenny.” My voice cracks as I feel how much of a disappointment I’ve become to the people who gave me a chance. “I really wanted to prove to you I’m worthy of your life’s work. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“You never disappointed me, Son.” I feel the knot in my chest tighten, though he had always treated me like one, Lenny had never called me son. “I want to show you something.”
Lenny flicks the reading glasses from his head to his nose, types on his computer for a few minutes, pressing each key separately and slowly with his brow furrowed in concentration until he finds what he’s looking for. He proceeds to print that something out and hand it over to me.
The paper is still warm from the printer, the large black letters at the header of the page pop out against the crisp whiteness.
“Lenny, why are you showing me your Will?” I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me, a fear that he might be dying takes over me.
“Just read it.” Lenny leans back and waits.
It’s pretty run of the mill. The Will is dated five years ago and states that if Lenny dies first his wife Martha gets everything, then when they’re both gone everything is to be split equally between the kids. A few specific sentimental items are listed to be given to a certain child, and then I see it.
“You’re leaving me the shop?” It’s barely a whisper but enough for Lenny to hear.
“It’s always been yours, Kid. Since you set foot in here almost thirteen years ago.” Lenny sighs. “It was supposed to be a surprise when I retired. Had I known you thought I was expecting you to buy the place I wouldn’t have waited.”
“But Martha and the kids…” I still feel as if I’m in a dream, that the entire conversation is a crazy figment of my imagination, and I’ll soon snap back to reality.
“It was their idea.” Lenny smiles. “Martha even insisted I go to our attorney the morning after it was decided
; she’s always thought highly of you.”
“I don’t know what to say, Lenny.” I can feel tears well up in my eyes. It’s too much, I don’t deserve this.
“You earned it, Mac. You’ve proven yourself through blood, sweat, and tears and on top of it all you’re a good man,” Lenny states so simply, but those words resonate, reminding me of the last time someone had told me I was a good man.
It doesn’t feel that way, it never really had.
“Thank you.” I get up and circle the table. Lenny stands and opens his arms, wrapping me up in a tight bear hug. “Thank you.”
When we finally let go, Lenny is looking at me with a stern look again.
“Look, Kid, you got a crap hand dealt to you in life. But for the most part, you seemed to be playing it as good as you could, so I let you be, let you deal with your shit your own way.” This sounds eerily like what Zoe was trying to tell me right before I left, only blunter. “But that girl, Mac, she was the ace up your sleeve, so to speak.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is, Kid.” Lenny rubs a hand over his face and exhales loud and long. “Look, whatever it is that’s stopping you from patching things up with her, fix it and then go and beg her to take you back.”
“Not sure begging would do the trick.” I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t, not with a girl like Zoe.
“Then find out what will and get it done.” Lenny puts a large hand on my shoulder. “We’re almost done for the day. Why don’t you call it an early weekend? Go home, think about what I said.”
“Yeah, okay.” I feel fatigued all of a sudden, the stress letdown hitting me so hard I can’t even think of arguing.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket and feel something, I pull it out only to realize it’s the calling card Zoe had given me, which I had completely forgotten about.