by A. K. Evans
“Zara, you said Gwen didn’t seem fazed by it; why are you still so worked up?” I asked, hoping I could help her see reason.
“She wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean I want her having to put up with my nonsense.”
I shook my head at her and challenged, “Gwen’s your best friend. If that’s the case, I’m willing to bet she doesn’t see this the way you do. Would you hold something like this against her if the roles were reversed? Would you look at her ex being an asshole as her nonsense?”
Zara shook her head and I knew then I’d gotten through. Maybe not completely, but enough for her to settle down a bit and enjoy her lunch that afternoon.
So, it was clear based on that conversation that she had moved on from her ex. Even if there were still some lingering emotional wounds, it was evident she wasn’t pining over him.
There was something bothering her, though.
I had hoped I’d find out what was on her mind when we went for our hikes, but whenever I attempted to steer our conversation in a direction that would give me answers, she’d shut down. If I said anything that related to her life in Pennsylvania, she didn’t have much to say. Apart from her best friend or her former job, Zara refused to talk about life before Windsor. She didn’t outright state this, but she always managed to quickly change the topic and redirect the conversation to something else.
Weeks ago, I thought I saw something else lingering there behind her eyes. Her constant diversions to other topics only convinced me that there was something there she wasn’t ready to deal with. She never really discussed her family, only once ever mentioning that she was one of three children. She was the middle child and had two brothers. Beyond that, she never talked about them, and I had a feeling some of what she was holding on to was related to them. I had every intention of seeing to it that she worked through whatever it was. I just needed to find a way in.
But I was striking out.
After all this time had passed, she was still offering no indication that she was seeing me as anything more than a friend.
I felt stuck because I had promised her we could get to know one another as just friends. I intended to keep my promise, but it was hard to not want to go for more.
Zara was beautiful, exquisitely so. She was brutally honest, but also timid. She was caring and kind, yet unobtrusive. She stood up for herself, but not at the expense of others. And I enjoyed being around her.
So, I wanted more.
A lot more.
Every time she spoke, I found myself unable and unwilling to concentrate on anything but her. She’d talk about work, the fires, the yoga classes she was taking, and her cat, and she’d do it with such enthusiasm, I couldn’t help but be mesmerized. And when she’d bite her lip or casually lick it, I’d end up balling my hands into fists or clenching my jaw in an attempt to restrain myself.
I wanted to kiss her lips.
I wanted to touch her creamy skin.
I wanted to run my fingers through her hair.
I wanted the weight of her gorgeous body on top of mine while I held her in my arms.
But I hadn’t so much as held her hand.
I hadn’t even hugged her.
I was worried that if I pushed for too much too soon, she’d close up tighter than she already was.
So, I was stuck waiting for her to give me any hint that she wanted or needed more between us.
I had just arrived at her place for our lunch date and walked through the front door of her shop. She was finishing up with a customer, so I stood back. Her eyes slid to mine and she smiled before she returned her attention to her client.
Once her client walked out, she greeted me. “Hey Pierce. What’s on the menu today?”
Zara was so cheerful when I came in to meet her before we went to lunch. That was one of the things I’d noticed had changed about her over time. She was far more comfortable around me now than she had been the first few times we’d been around each other.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I answered. “Do you have a preference?”
She looked to the front window and back to me. “This rain sucks. I feel bad that you were already out in it. How about I make us lunch today so we don’t have to go out?”
If she was inviting me up to her loft, I was not going to say no.
“I don’t expect you to cook, but that definitely sounds like a nice change of pace,” I declared.
Zara hit me with one of her glamorous smiles that nearly took my breath away and beamed, “Perfect. Let me lock up down here and we can head up.”
After she locked the door, a phone started ringing. Zara walked behind the counter and bent down behind it before standing with her phone in her hand. She took in a deep breath, muted the phone, and set it back down on the counter.
My brows pulled together. “Everything okay?”
She waved her hand in the air dismissively and stated, “It’s my mom. I’ll call her back later after we have lunch.”
I nodded my agreement and followed behind her up to her loft.
Five minutes later, Zara was standing in front of her stove pushing her wooden spoon through the ingredients in her pan. She told me she wanted to make her turkey black bean taco salad. I didn’t care what I ate, as long as I was doing it with her.
While Zara cooked the turkey and onions, I sat in one of the two stools at her island with Callie in my arms. As I alternated between rubbing her head and stroking along her back, Callie purred.
It was then I decided to push Zara for a little more. I didn’t know where it’d get me, but I figured if I was going to get anywhere anytime soon, I needed to start trying.
“Is there a reason you don’t talk about your family?” I blurted my question.
Zara’s body went visibly tight, the air suddenly trapped in her lungs. After a beat, she let out the air and closed her eyes.
“Yes, Pierce, there is a reason,” she said softly, her voice nearly a whisper. “In fact, there are a lot of reasons.”
The pain and anguish in her voice was hard to hear. I didn’t like knowing that anything had happened in her life to make her sound like that.
I sat there and watched her struggling with her breathing while she continued to cook the food. It was brutal for me to sit there knowing I’d brought up whatever painful memories she had running through her mind.
Unable to stand it any longer, I stood from the stool, placed Callie on the floor, and walked around the island toward the stove. Standing off to the side behind her, I reached my hand out and pushed the mass of curls from the side of her face. As I did, her head turned in my direction and her sad, brown eyes came to mine.
“Beautiful, I’m sorry if I upset you.”
With those words, she gave in. Zara dropped her head and planted her face in my chest. Her free hand reached out to grip the side of my shirt.
I immediately took the wooden spoon from her other hand before turning off the burner. Then, I wrapped my arms around her body and held her tight.
While her body was trembling, she wasn’t sobbing. I could feel her taking one settling breath after another.
I gave her some time to pull herself together, and when she lifted her head from my chest a few minutes later, she apologized, “I’m sorry about that.”
Keeping one arm wrapped around the middle of her back, I brought my other hand up to the side of her throat. My thumb brushed along the skin at the front of her neck as I said, “You have nothing to apologize for, Zara. I told you before that it’s okay not to be okay. I had a feeling there was something going on with your family, but didn’t expect you’d have the reaction you did. If you need to get it out, I’m happy to listen.”
She took in another deep breath and let it out. “You wouldn’t make it back to work today if I chose this opportunity to get it out.”
I smiled at her. “There’s nothing pressing that I need to take care of right now, so feel free.”
Zara let out a little laugh. “I appreciate that, bu
t I have to get back to work. I have a couple orders being picked up later this afternoon.”
While I had hoped she’d share what upset her so much and was disappointed she wasn’t going to, I was happy that she didn’t say she didn’t want to share with me at all. The timing just wasn’t right.
I gave her a nod, dropped my arms from her body, and let her step away. Without speaking, she worked for the next few minutes chopping up vegetables and preparing the salads. When she finished them, she rounded the counter and sat on the stool next to me.
I took a few bites, pleasantly surprised at how good the salad was.
“How is it?” she asked.
“Really good.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes, but when Zara finally spoke, she shocked me. “We used to be really close,” she started. “Now we’re not.”
I assumed she was referring to her family. Not wanting to do anything that would stop her from sharing, I kept quiet but directed my attention to her.
Her solemn voice shared, “My mom and I used to talk on the phone every day, sometimes more than once a day. Now, we go days at a time without speaking to one another. And when I say speaking, I don’t necessarily mean over the phone. Sometimes our only communication is through a few text messages, so phone conversations are even more scarce.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Doesn’t she want to talk to you?”
“She does. It’s me that is stopping it from happening,” she confessed.
I found this to be surprising. “Why?” I asked.
She gave me a look and explained, “That’s the part of this that would take a long time to get through. What I can say for now is that a lot of stuff happened. My mother is, much like me, a very passionate person. When she gets fired up about something, she has a hard time letting it go. And she wants to fix everything. Her heart is in the right place, but she doesn’t always go about it in the best way possible. Unfortunately, I have a very hard time with forgiveness.”
Zara paused a moment, lifting her fork to her mouth to take a bite. I took the opportunity to ask, “Do you want to forgive her?”
After swallowing, she admitted, “I don’t know. Deep down, I know that I hate the rift between us. I hate that our relationship was destroyed and I’d love nothing more than to go back to a time before everything happened. But a lot of things have been said and actions have been taken that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get past. When things were strained between us and we were hanging on by a very frayed thread, more stuff happened and she made choices I never expected she would. I’ve lost a lot of my trust in her and I don’t know how to rebuild it. I know she wants to see it happen. Part of me wants it, too, but I’m afraid of trying and being hurt again.”
All this time, I thought that Zara was hesitant to start something between us because of what her ex did to her. Now, hearing this, I knew there was a whole lot more to work through. It was no surprise that she was scared. The ex-fiancé’s betrayal might have been one thing, but if there was bad blood between her and the people she should have been closest with, it made sense that she’d want to protect herself.
“Anyway,” she sighed. “Sorry to be such a downer. I don’t like talking about the situation because it just brings up too many bad feelings. I know it’s not good, but dealing with it means that I’ve got to feel things I don’t like feeling.”
“I can’t imagine that would be easy to do on your own,” I reasoned.
Zara looked up at me, a melancholic look in her eyes, and shook her head.
“I’m here for you to do that whenever you’re ready,” I offered.
Without warning, and taking me completely off guard, Zara leaned toward me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Thank you, Pierce. That really means a lot to me,” she whispered.
I wrapped my arm around her back and brought my hand to the opposite shoulder. I gave her a squeeze, liking the way it felt to have her that close to me again, and said, “Anytime, beautiful.”
It was after Zara and I finished our lunch and cleaned up. After I’d held her in my arms twice in less than a thirty-minute span. After we both played with Callie, the cuddly girl soaking up the attention. And it was after Zara declared that she needed to get back to work.
It was after we had descended the stairs and I prepared to leave. And, finally, it was after Zara glanced over to her phone that had lit up on the counter.
She lifted it, her pale face going paler, and she stated, “I’ve missed fourteen calls and six text messages from my mom.”
That didn’t make me feel good. In fact, it was downright cause for concern. “What do the text messages say?” I asked.
Zara shook her head back and forth as she looked at them. “Nothing. She just keeps telling me to call her because there’s an emergency.”
She lifted her eyes to mine and I saw nothing but absolute fear in her face. I took three steps toward her, closing the distance between us. Before I had the chance to tell her to call, Zara’s phone lit up in her hand and started ringing again.
“Answer it,” I encouraged her.
She took a deep swallow, slid her finger across the screen, and held the phone up to her ear. “Hello,” she said, her voice filled with worry.
I could hear, who I could only assume was Zara’s mother, yelling on the other end of the line. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“I left my phone downstairs in my shop, Mom. I was upstairs having lunch. I just picked up my phone and saw you called. What’s going on?”
And that was when it happened. Zara rocked back on her feet, her hand going out to the counter to steady herself. I immediately reached out and wrapped my fingers around her arm to make sure she didn’t fall.
Agony and pure anguish were present in her tone when she rasped, “What? When?”
My emotions were beginning to unravel seeing the look in her face as her mother spoke to her, presumably answering her questions.
Zara’s eyes were closed, her breathing quick and shallow.
“I have to go, Mom.”
Silence while her mom spoke.
Zara shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I just need to go. I’ll call you later.”
Pulling the phone from her ear, she didn’t give her mother a chance to respond. Zara dropped her arm to her side and stared straight ahead. She didn’t make eye contact with me but told me what was happening.
Her ragged voice, filled with so much pain, murmured, “My best friend is dead.”
“Zara?”
The sound of my name rang in my ears, but I couldn’t focus. I was concentrating too hard on gripping the edge of the countertop. If I let it go, I’d fall.
“Zara, beautiful, look at me.”
I was looking at him. I just couldn’t move my head and my eyes from his chest to meet his eyes.
“She’s dead,” I whispered, blinking my eyes in disbelief.
A million thoughts ran through my mind. Not thoughts. That wasn’t right. Memories. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see them. Seeing them meant I had to deal with it.
“Fuck, Zara,” I heard. This time, I snapped out of it long enough to lift my gaze to the face of the man standing in front of me.
The minute I saw the look on Pierce’s face, I had to bite the inside of my cheek. If I didn’t, I would cry. He must have known because he reached out to my hand on the counter and urged, “Hold on to me, beautiful.”
I had no choice. If I didn’t hold on to him, I’d be on the ground.
He held me tight, and all I could do was hold on. Hold on and think about her and the time we no longer had.
“Pierce, she’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry, Zara. I know how much Gwen meant to you.”
I felt like I was suffocating. I had to say it. I had to say her name. I couldn’t catch my breath; we ran out of time. “It’s Nicola. Nicola’s gone. She’s gone, Pierce.”
Suddenly, I was up in his arms. Pierce was carrying me up the
stairs to my loft. I was too stunned and shocked to say or do anything.
The next thing I knew, Pierce had me settled in his lap, the top of my head tucked under his chin, and he was gently rubbing up and down the side of my arm.
I sat there, staring off into space.
This couldn’t be real.
“Tell me who Nicola is, Zara,” he urged me after a long time had passed.
I closed my eyes and saw her beautiful, smiling face. “I met her in middle school. That year, our school divided the entire seventh-grade class into groups. We stayed with that same group of students for the entire year. That was the year we became best friends. We were inseparable all the way through our senior year.”
“You’ve never spoken about her.”
No. I hadn’t.
“That’s because we had a falling out shortly after college. We said stupid things. She was hurt. I was hurt. We stopped talking to one another. I saw her a once since then about a year and a half ago at a bachelorette party for my cousin.”
I paused remembering the look we gave each other that night.
“My cousin had a sizeable party, so it was easy enough for Nicola and me not to speak with one another. I remember walking back from the bathroom at the restaurant we all went to that night. She was standing in the doorway that led to the private room the party was being hosted in. We looked at each other. We smiled at each other. But we never said a single word to one another,” I shared, feeling my throat getting tight. My nose began to sting and my eyes welled with tears. “Oh God, Pierce. We could have made amends then. She was married, already had one beautiful baby girl, and was pregnant with her second girl. I missed all of that. I thought…I don’t know what I thought. But I never thought this would happen.”
Pierce’s arms tightened around me as he pulled me closer to him. I didn’t mind because it felt nice, and I knew he was just trying to do the right thing.
