I'm sat around a small circular table in the center of a room full more tables, equally spaced two meters apart from each other. My leg shook with anxiety.
There’s a loud buzz and a metal-barred door swung open, and a dozen men dressed in orange suits filter into the room. I looked up to see a man staring down at me.
“Sit down,” I said, as I leaned forward in my seat, resting my elbows on the table.
He sat down, but didn’t meet my eye. “I’ve been expecting you to visit me for a while now.” His voice was low and thick.
“Trust me, I don’t wanna be here.”
“I’m so terribly sorry, son. I-”
“I am not you’re son. And I didn’t come for your apologies. Apologies aren’t gonna bring my parents back. They're just meaningless words.”
“Not to me. I need you to hear me out. I need you to know, that there’s not a day goes by that I don’t regret that night. I should never have gotten into that car, I know that. If I could go back and change things I would.”
“Do you have any idea what it's like to be told that your parent are dead, and that you're never going to see them again?”
“No I don’t.”
“Well I do, and it’s shit. I lost everything that night. Everything.”
“If it’s any consolation, you aren’t the only one who lost everything. I left behind my daughter, the only person in the whole world who means anything to me. We both lost something that night and I take full responsibility for that. I don’t care that I’m stuck in here, this isn’t my punishment. My punishment is knowing that my daughter is growing up without a father, that if I ever see her again, I’ll have missed out of the most important years of her life.”
His eyes glazed over with tears. His words don’t do anything to make me feel better. Why would he think telling me about the daughter he left behind would make me feel better about any of this? I know better than anyone what it’s like to have your parents ripped away from you, and I don’t wish it on anyone, not even his daughter.
“Ever thought that maybe she’s better off without you?” I said it purely to hurt him like he hurt me. I want him to hurt.
I stand, and leave the room without looking back. I wanted to see him in here, suffering, hurting, hoping that it would make me feel better, but it doesn’t.
Why couldn't he have been some drunk loser with no conscience?
As much I hate to admit it, I saw the remorse in his eyes, and something deep within me too me that he’s actually a good man. A good man who made a bad choice that ended in tragedy. A man who will send the rest of his life paying for his mistake.
Instead of going home, I ended up at a bar downtown, nursing an untouched glass of whiskey.
“Hi,” a silky smooth voice said.
I turned my head to see a slim girl about my age leaning up against the bar beside me, her thick strawberry blonde hair flowing down around her shoulders in loose natural curls.
“I’m Zach.”
She smiled wide. “I’m Carly.”
A car horn blares, snapping me from my thoughts and I swerve around the car just before I was about to land head-first through his rear window, but the way I'm feeling right now, I don't really care.
I turn into the underground parking lot of my apartment building, pulling into the open space beside my car, switching off the engine and flicking out the kickstand with my foot. Before I know it, I’m inside my apartment, sat in the middle of my sofa, staring blankly at the black screen of my 50” flat screen.
Who knew that the little girl he spoke of in that visitation room would turn out to be the most important person in my life? That she would become the one person to mend my shattered heart?
The look on her face as she pleaded for me not to leave her haunts me every time I close my eyes. A stab of pain pierces my heart at the thought.
I did it again, I left her. I left her after I promised her I wouldn’t, and I feel like the biggest asshole in the world.
But how could I stay after finding out something like that?
My phone buzzes in my pocket but I ignore it. I know who it is, and I don’t think I can stomach looking at her name right now, let alone hearing her voice.
I know it’s not her fault, she didn’t chose who her father is, but every time I think of her I picture him, the images of my parents’ mangled car on the side of the road, every piece of metal, crumpled and crushed, not an inch untouched.
My phone stops buzzing for a second before it starts up again. I pull it out and peer down at the screen. Just as I thought.
Gwen.
All I wanna do is pull her into my arms, kiss her and yet push her away all at the same time. How fucked up is that?
I switch off my phone and toss it beside me onto the couch cushion, resting my head back against the back of the chair.
Just a few hours ago I was the happiest man alive, now I sit here alone, miserable and my heart in a thousand tiny pieces, again.
This is why I fought so hard against my growing feelings for Gwen, because deep down I always knew it would end in disaster, that it would end in pain and heartbreak. That something somewhere along the line would come between us.
And as it turns out, when everyone told me I was wrong, I was right after all.
I shouldn’t have listened.
Well, I won’t make that mistake again.
Chapter 42
Zach
“Batman is way cooler than Superman!” my best friend Adam says.
“Nuh-uh! Superman actually has superpowers, Batman is just a normal guy with a stupid tool belt,” I protest. “Batman is stupid,” I add.
“You’re stupid,” Adam says.
It's almost ten o'clock. Where are my mom and dad? They said they would come and pick me up at eight and when we got home we were gonna watch Night at the Museum.
“Superman wears dorky glasses when he’s Clark Kent.”
“You wear dorky glasses,” I reply.
There’s a knock at the front door and Adam jumps up onto the couch in front of the window in their living room to see who it is.
“Wow! Look! A real life Police car!” he shouts.
I jump up next to him and peer out of the window to see it for myself, just as Adam's mom opens the front door.
“Evening, officers, can I help you?” she asks.
“Good evening, Ma’am. Are you Mrs Goodman?”
“That’s me.”
“We believe a Zachary Gilgunn is under your care for the evening, is that correct?”
“It is, he’s a friend of my son. What is this about?”
“There’s been an accident,” the officer begins. He lowers his voice, because the next words are hushed whispers that I can make out. I hear Adam’s mom gasp sharply. “May we come inside Mrs Goodman?”
“Um, yes, of course, come on in.”
“Thank you.” I hear the officers step inside, and the front door closes behind them. Two male police officers come into view as they step into the living room. They glance between me and Adam.
Adam’s mom follows them into the living room, her eyes land on me. She’s been crying.
“Wow! Are you really the Police?” Adam asks, his eyes wide.
“We really are,” one of the officers replies, his mouth curving into a smile, the other hangs back a little, staring off somewhere, not meeting anyone’s eye.
“Are you here to arrest us and take us to jail?”
The officer laughs. “Not quite. Which one of you is Zachary?”
“I am. Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble?” I ask, my heart is pounding a mile a minute. What do the Police any with me?
“Would you sit down, Zachary. We need to talk to you.”
Adam’s mom comes over to me and places her hands on my shoulders and guides me down onto the couch. She sits beside me, her hands still on my shoulders, Adam sits on the other side of me.
Both officers take a seat opposite us and remove their hats.
This is weird.
The officer sighs deeply. “Zachary, I’m afraid there’s been an accident involving your parents.”
“Are they okay?” I ask.
The officer bows his head. “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, son. You're parents died this evening.”
I'm numb. My mind is clear. I'm not thinking anything. I’m stunned, not knowing what to say. They’re dead? How are they dead, I only saw them a few hours ago when they went to their anniversary dinner?
Adam’s mom tightens her hold on me as she tries to contain her cry.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“They were hit by another car. The driver of the other car had been drinking and lost control. I'm very sorry, son.”
For saying Batman is stupid, well, I’m feeling a lot like Bruce Wayne did that night his parents were attacked. I guess me and Bruce have more in common than I thought.
What do I do now?
Who's going to fix my bike when the chain falls off?
Who's going to teach me how to cook? Mom was going to show me how to make spaghetti bolognese, who’s going to teach me now?
Who’s going to help me practice my throw for football practice in the park?
I don’t notice when the police leave or even getting into the bunk bed I sometime share with Adam when I sleepover. Everything around me just blurs into one. It’s like I’m in some sort of tunnel or void. No end in sight. No one around but me. I’m all alone.
Every time I close my eyes as sleep tries to pull me under, I see a car, driving down the freeway. I'm standing at the side of the road as my parent’s car comes into view. It’s dark, so I see the headlights first. Headlights coming from the opposite side of the road catches my eye. I turn to see it begin to veer into the other lane, heading straight for my parents car which is getting closer. My parents speed past me and the oncoming car begins to swerve and weave, but it’s too late.
Everything happens so fast.
There’s a screech of tires, followed by a loud crash.
A car spins towards me.
I jerk awake, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest.
I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands and swing out of bed, heading for the shower, letting the cool water wash away my thoughts, but nothing can stop the image of my parent’s car spiralling towards me, a dream within a dream. It’s the same dream I’ve had for twenty years, that recurring dream you can’t seem to shake no matter what you do.
I know it’s not real, but it feels real. The image is so vivid as I stand on the side of the road and watch my parents die.
I haven’t had the dream for a while, I guess the past making an unwelcome reappearance tonight has brought it all back.
But why now? Everything was good, everything was going so well. I was happy, we were happy.
Of course, like everything good in my life is short lived, doomed to end.
Maybe this is my life from now on, hurt, sadness and heartbreak?
Maybe I’m just not meant to be happy.
Chapter 43
Gwen
After I called Hayley yesterday, she and Kyle both thought the worst, that Josh had come back for round two, but I insisted it wasn’t the case, telling them not to panic. Hayley, being the best friend a girl could have, wanted to drive forty minutes late at night to come and see me, but I told her it wasn’t necessary, so she settled to stopping by this morning instead.
I barely got three hours sleep last night. I saw the clock strike every single hour. It was like a little hamster in a running wheel inside my brain that would not stop.
I called Zach a total of eight times last night, each one going to voicemail. The first two attempts I waited for the phone to eventually stop ringing, but from then on, they just went straight to voicemail, as if he’d switched off his phone.
∞∞∞
After breakfast, which I couldn’t even bear to look at without wanting to vomit, Lucas takes himself off into his room to play. I sit on the sofa with some trashy reality show on TV, not really paying much attention. I pull out my laptop and click onto Google. I trawl the internet until I find an old newspaper article from twenty years ago with the headline, ‘Drunk Driver Kills Couple In Horrific Accident’. What follows is a picture of the mangled car and my stomach lurches.
I bolt for the bathroom where I heave into the toilet. Since I haven’t eaten anything recently, all that comes up is water. I wait until the nausea passes before I leave the bathroom, and I slam my laptop shut, I don’t think I can stomach reading the article.
There’s a knock at the door. Hayley.
As soon as I opened the door and see the worried look on her face, I crumple, the cry I’ve been forcing back all night finally slipping free as I bury my face into her chest, clinging to my best friend.
“What’s happened?” she asks, sitting me down next to her on the sofa.
I wipe my eyes on the sleeves of my sweater. “You know how Zach’s parents were killed in a car accident?” I ask. She nods. “The drunk driver that hit them... was my dad.”
“What the fuck?” Her eyes widen in shock.
“That’s why he went to prison. Zach came over last night, we were gonna have dinner, I wanted Patrick and Susanne to meet him… Zach couldn’t get out of here fast enough. He won’t answer any of my calls or texts. I get that it’s a shock and he’s upset, I mean, who wouldn’t? But why him? Why did it have to be him, Hayley? It could’ve been anyone else.”
“That’s exactly how I felt when after everything that happened with me and Kyle, four years ago. The only thing I could come up with was that Kyle and I were meant to meet. In a weird way, we saved each other, it turned out we were what each other needed.”
“So you’re saying it’s fate? That fate brought Zach and I together?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, fate’s a grade-A bitch.”
She laughs softly. “That she is. But there’s a reason why you and Zach were brought together. Everything happens for a reason.”
“You sound like Rose,” I comment.
“Well then, that means we’re right. People come and go in life, some are meant to be temporary and some are meant to stay. Zach is meant to stay in yours.”
“How did you look past it? How did you learn to live with it?”
“Love. That’s the only answer. I had to make a choice, to let my love for Kyle outshine everything else, or let what happened destroy us, our happiness.”
“I don’t wanna lose him, Hayley. What if he decides he can’t look past it? What if he leaves me?”
“Then we'll get through it, like we always do, together. You'll always have me.”
“I love you Hales. I'm so lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Damn right,” she jokes.
I snort a laugh and wrap my arms around her.
Chapter 44
Zach
Kyle and I sit in a booth in the corner of his casino, his phone resting in the center of the table as we await the phone call. My leg shakes under the table with anticipation.
God, I hope this works. It has to.
“So, Gwen’s dad is the drunk guy who crashed into your parents car twenty years ago?”
“Yep. Small world, huh?” Sarcasm drips through my voice.
I’ve managed to not think about it for the past two days, because being reminded of it and having to think about it sends pain radiating through my body as if someone sucker punched me in the stomach.
“Man, Hayley said Gwen is a mess. Why won’t you talk to her?” Kyle asks.
The thought of her hurting is killing me.
“What is there to say? How are we supposed to just move on and pretend her father didn’t murder my parents? He’s back in her life and I’ll have to see him all the time. Seeing him will always be a reminder of what he took away from me.”
“Remember what I told you a while back, about when Hayley and I met?”
The Promise Page 19
