Finally, I leaned over and kissed her eyes, nose, and lips. “I love you, Z. I’ll never stop loving you.”
As I closed the door behind me, the Pearsons were waiting. I motioned for them to join me and crossed the hallway to the waiting area. Then I confessed. Leaving nothing out. By the time I’d finished they knew my entire life story. My upbringing. The band. What Zoey meant to me. How I’d spun out of control for years and lost myself in the rock star lifestyle. How I let our publicists use me to promote the band. Finally, I filled them in on what Sienna had done.
Then I explained how I’d make things right. How Zoey’s life meant more to me than mine. I would cover all of her rehab and medical costs. I’d clear her name. She’d be set up for life. My greatest gift would be to leave her alone. For eight years, all I had ever done was cause her pain. She deserved better.
I knew that I was on the right track when her parents agreed that it was for the best. My sweet Zoey deserved a life that wouldn’t include me fucking it up any more than I already had.
Chapter 33
ZOEY
Three weeks later
After what seemed like forever of being in a drug-induced cloud, I was determined not to take any more painkillers. Or at least to get off the ones that were fucking with my head. My memories of the time since the accident were floaty. Vague snippets of being in the hospital. Flashes of Ty sitting by my bedside. Flittering memories of the private jet that took me and my parents back to Seattle. Confusion about being in my childhood bedroom and not at Ty’s.
The memory that was as clear as day would always come raging back. Visuals I never wanted to see again. Followed by me running out of the hotel like a lunatic. Then nothing. I had no recollection of the accident that fucked up my shoulder. No decent memories of anything that happened since, only the bits and pieces that seemed more like movie clips of someone else’s life.
Thanks to some crazy sports-medicine sorcery, my shoulder was feeling much better already. I’d started intense rehab a couple of days prior. With consistent, hard work I’d be as good as new when my cast came off in another two weeks. The scabs on my knees were still a bit gnarly in places, but the itching had stopped. All in all, even though I had a ways to go, I was so grateful to have such a great medical team.
“Hey, sweet girl.” Mom stood in the doorway to my bedroom with a cup of coffee.
“Hi.”
“Time to get up.” Mom moved toward my bed.
Yawning, I flung the covers off and sat up. More yawning. The drugs had really done a number on me. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I tentatively inched my toes to the floor. I still had to keep my arm in a sling while I slept, so I had to use my good hand for support to stand.
“I’m up!” I smoothed my long T-shirt down.
“Good job, honey. How’s your head, feeling a little clearer?” Mom pulled out some leggings and a fresh T-shirt from my suitcase. “Ready for a shower?”
“I do feel more like myself today, and yes I need a shower stat.” I shuffled over to my mom, each step felt like a challenge.
Once my body was clean, I felt even better. My mind was actually clearing up. It was time to get answers. For instance, where was Ty? My folks had been very vague about providing me with information. Each time I’d bring it up, they’d divert my attention, which wasn’t hard to do with all of the painkillers I had been on. I wasn’t only in a drug-induced bubble but a knowledge bubble too. I barely knew what day it was, other than overhearing my dad saying we’d missed Thanksgiving.
When I made it to the living room, I found my parents both looking at mom’s laptop. She shut it immediately when I came into view.
“What were you watching?”
“Nothing,” my folks said in unison, scared-rabbit expressions on their faces.
Nothing made me crazier than being kept in the dark. “Did something happen to Ty?”
“What do you mean?” My dad stood to come help me to the couch.
“I’m feeling pretty clearheaded now. I’m grateful for both of you, but I don’t understand where Ty is.”
My folks exchanged glances; an entire silent conversation passed between them.
“Ty is in Los Angeles.” My dad guided me to the couch.
I was so confused. “Why?”
More glances.
“Just tell me what’s going on.” I plopped down. “He hasn’t been with me and I’m freaking out. I’m feeling better, you can’t keep me prisoner here.”
“Zoey!” Dad was stricken.
“Where’s my phone?” I frantically begged, feeling more agitated. “I know you’re trying to protect me from something, but you have to understand that not knowing is making it worse. Did something happen to him?”
“Calm down, honey.” Mom rushed to my side.
My dad’s voice was barely over a whisper. “Ty has been here every day, but he didn’t want you to know. He had to leave for LA for some meetings this morning.”
“What? Why didn’t he want me to know?” My heart hurt so bad.
“When you were in the hospital, you told him there was no future together. He planned to bring you to his house, but you wouldn’t go. And, well, we wouldn’t let him.” Mom stroked my hair like a little girl. “He’s blaming himself for all that happened to you.”
“I don’t remember any of that.” My mind raced, trying to find some memory of the conversation. “I’d never want to be away from him.”
“Well, you were very upset by a video—”
“Yes, I remember the video.”
“Honey, you’ve been very out of it,” Mom soothed. “You weren’t retaining much information because of your surgery and the painkillers have made you discombobulated.”
“I was upset that she did that to him. We can’t go through another separation because of miscommunication again.” I was anguished. “Help me remember.”
“Sweetheart, when you tried to get away you ran out into the street. Sergey saved you from being hit by a taxi. Ty flew us to New York, you were in the hospital for three days until we came home on a private jet and got you set up here,” Mom explained. “Ty brought in the Seattle Mariners’ orthopedic specialists to oversee your care.”
“I want to see him.” My heart raced. “It wasn’t his fault about Sienna. Ohmygod. I said horrible things to him before I ran out.”
“Zoey, you have to understand. That woman set up horrible press articles about you. Whenever you’d wake up, you’d be agitated and crying about what happened. We couldn’t really get a clear picture, and at first, we didn’t know if Ty had hurt you.”
Hearing that my parents believed that Ty had harmed me was unbearable. “I was really mad at him and the situation, but deep down I knew he’d never hurt me, Mom.”
“You have to understand, your accident made headlines around the world. We had news cameras and photographers outside the house around the clock. Thousands waited outside the hospital for news of your condition. When we first got there, I was furious at him.” Dad sat on the other side of me. “We kept him away from you until you asked for him. He never left, he made sure you had everything. He even hired some crazy secret-service paramilitary security to keep you safe. They have our entire street blocked off.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three weeks ago, yesterday.”
“Seriously. Get me my phone, please Dad,” I implored.
“Zoey, you need to be prepared.” Mom cradled me gently. “Ty has managed to get a lot of the stuff down, but I can’t be sure there aren’t things out there that will hurt you.”
“You mean Jace got the stuff pulled down.” I took my phone from him.
“No, it was Ty.” Dad handed me the charger. “He has been giving interviews and hired his own crisis management team to help change the narrative. It’s beginning to work.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” Mom’s concern permeated her face. “At least use my laptop, sweetheart.”
&
nbsp; It was hard to figure out how I felt. All I knew was that I needed information so I could analyze it and try to put my life back together. For the next few hours, I poured over every article, every interview, every video. I found some of the salacious stuff that had been printed. There were websites devoted to Ty and me as a couple and websites devoted to breaking us up. After such an intense download of material, my head felt like it would explode. I was getting sleepy.
But I had what I needed.
As I was shutting down the computer, my dad brought me a sandwich. He sat across from me but remained silent. A look of understanding passed between us.
“He’ll be back, he usually comes by around eleven p.m.”
“I hurt him, didn’t I?” I sighed. “Again.”
My dad leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, thoughtfully considering his words. Then he spoke. “Zoey, in every relationship there will be times when you hurt each other without meaning to. Some people work through it and some don’t. I’ll admit that I have always had my reservations about Ty. He came from a difficult background and no dad wants his little girl to give her heart to a rock dude.”
Dad took a pause, a lawyer trait that I emulated often.
I waited patiently for him to continue.
“Throughout this nightmare, he’s shown your mom and me who he really is.” Dad had tears in his eyes. “I don’t want to influence you, honey. Neither does he. He’s willing to step aside. I’d say he’s almost resigned to it. His only wish is for you to be okay. Happy.”
“He always makes me happy.” I smiled. “I’m the best version of myself when we’re together.”
“That’s all a dad can ask for.”
“Why has he been coming over so late?” It was the last piece of the puzzle.
My mom brought me my newer, less-potent painkillers and a cup of tea. “Ty wanted to make sure you were sound asleep when he sat with you. He didn’t want to be here when you were coherent in case he upset you or interfered with your healing and ability to process everything in your own time.”
All I could do was swallow. And try to breathe normally. He hadn’t freaked out. He’d stayed the course and been there for me, even when I wasn’t capable of comprehending it.
“We’ve spent a lot of time with him over the past three weeks.” Mom kissed me on the head. “He’s a very special man.”
I’d always known that. While it was comforting to know that my mom and dad accepted him even after what happened, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t believe in us anymore. “How do you know when he’ll be here?”
“Ty just texted me.” Mom held up her phone. “He’s on his way. You have about ten minutes.”
Chapter 34
TYSON
After Zoey returned to Seattle safely, Katherine and I got to work. First, our insanely competent civil litigation team filed a lawsuit against Sienna and Andrew that would have kept them in court for easily five years if they didn’t acquiesce to our demands, which included a full admission of their misdeeds, a retraction of everything they’d released about Zoey, the return of any and all photos and videos of me, and cooperation with my crisis management team to put our true story out there. Regardless, I’d make sure they’d never work as publicists for any legitimate entertainer ever again.
Next, we found a crisis publicist to help me repair the damage Sienna had done to us. Banafee Partners set up dozens of interviews for me to clear everything up. It took a couple of weeks, but things were turning around. Today, I’d also dealt with my mother once and for all. Evidence from my fucked-up childhood—all of the police reports, child protective reports, and my journal had been revealed in an exclusive interview I gave to Rolling Stone. My truth was coming out, I only could hope that it would help another child like me, have hope.
All these efforts didn’t erase the fact that Zoey’s reputation had been smeared mercilessly, but it certainly cushioned the long-term impact. As I’d promised Zoey’s dad, my business manager set up a trust for her. She’d never have to work another day in her life. It wasn’t how I’d hoped our story would end, but it was the only thing I could do.
When I’d given the paperwork to Mike, he told me that I was their son as sure as Zoey was their daughter. After his reaction to me in New York, I knew it wasn’t exactly true, but it made me feel better all the same. His approval didn’t change my reality with Zoey, but at least I knew that I’d done the best I could to make things right.
Exhausted, I trudged up the steps to the Pearson’s front door. The very best part of my day was when I could see Zoey, and I knew that our time was coming to an end. She was nearly healed. Last night she’d nearly woken up and found me sitting next to her, which couldn’t happen. I’d promised her parents I wouldn’t ever let anyone hurt her again and I meant it. It didn’t make each visit less distressing, because one of these days would be my last.
The front door opened a crack. I looked up anticipating her dad and was blown away when Zoey stepped through the door.
Wearing black leggings and an oversize University of Washington sweatshirt, my butterfly had no makeup on. But she was upright. Alert. Breathtaking.
“Ty—” Zoey’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Z.” I stopped in my tracks.
We stared at each other for who knows how long.
“Come in.” Zoey held open the door.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Ty—”
“Okay.”
I followed Zoey into the kitchen, where she motioned for me to sit before putting on the electric kettle. Silently she made two cups of tea. My heart thudded. For weeks I had been resolved that my life would have to go on without the love of my life. In my mind, at this moment, the next few minutes would only confirm my agony.
“Here you go.” Zoey set my tea in front of me and sat down across the table.
“Thanks.” I couldn’t look her in the eye.
The dead-quiet of the late hour was unbearable. The heater kicked on in the old Craftsman house, and I jumped at the sound. Scrubbing my hands through my hair, I couldn’t help fidgeting. And waiting.
Finally, Zoey broke the ice. “I know I said some really horrible things to you, and I’m very sorry.”
I looked up from under the curtain of my hair, barely glancing at her. “I deserved everything you said to me.”
“Our reunion hasn’t really gone the way we hoped, has it?” Zoey’s voice was but a whisper.
“It’s my fault.” I clasped my hands around the hot cup. “Everything.”
“Can I show you something?”
“I should really go.”
“Please?” Zoey calmly pleaded. “It won’t take long.”
I nodded, then shut my eyes. Zoey left the room for a couple of minutes and returned with a laptop. She sat next to me and powered it on and launched a video. At first, I couldn’t make out what it was because the picture was so dark, but I could hear my voice.
“What is this?” I peeked over at her.
“Just listen. Watch.”
So I did. You could barely make out that it was me, but I recognized that the video was a feed from a nanny cam in Zoey’s bedroom. Upon further review, it was a collection of videos from over the past few weeks. I could hear myself talking to her softly, professing my love, filling her in on my day, and assuring her that I’d respect her wishes to stay out of her life. Sometimes I sang her songs. Other times I just held her hand. Or stroked her hair.
I shut it off after a few minutes. Bile roiled in my stomach, I thought that I’d come to an understanding with Mike and Olivia. All I wanted was to protect Zoey and make sure she was okay, and yet they still kept me on surveillance. Hurt pierced my soul.
“I get it. Your parents don’t trust me with you so they filmed me.”
“No. They’ve not seen this video.” Zoey rested her cheek on her hand and studied me.
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t remember much about my time in the
hospital. As you know, I was really drugged up on pain meds. Apparently, I told you we had no future.”
My throat knotted. Tears threatened to burst free. Knowing that my time with Zoey would come to an end had been an inevitability for the past few weeks. Having this conversation with her was torture. My hands clenched into fists and I pushed them against my eyes.
“Look at me, Ty.”
An uncontrollable sob burst out. I couldn’t look at her. I was too ashamed.
“Ty. Look at me.” Zoey gripped my fists and moved them away from my eyes.
I peered at her through a veil of tears.
“You’re my everything. You are everything.” Zoey’s fingers interlocked with mine. “My mom set up the video feed just for me. For us. So I’d have memories that would have otherwise been impossible.”
“I should have told you everything, I planned to. I didn’t—”
“It’s okay. Really.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not.”
Zoey pierced me with a stern look and tightened her hands around my fingers. “Stop. Listen to me. I know about everything that you have done since the accident. You’ve done enough penance for something that wasn’t your fault. So have I. We’ve suffered enough at the hands of fate. God, at the hands of other people. You are the love of my life. My family. My future. The father of our kids.”
I looked deeply into the eyes of the only woman I had ever loved and would ever love. A sense of peace washed over me. Could we really find our way out of this?
“Say something.” Zoey pleaded.
“God, I love you.” Before the words were out of my mouth my lips claimed hers, a final and definitive declaration that she was mine. Zoey’s thumbs wiped the tears from my cheeks and our tongues met, tasting each other. We melted together as one.
“I love you so much,” Zoey spoke against my mouth without missing a beat. “Come upstairs with me.”
“Your parents?” I mumbled, still sprinkling kisses all over her lips.
She got up from her chair and held her hand out, motioning for me to follow. I knew that once I took her hand I was never letting her go. For real this time.
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