by Taylor Dean
“No, I’ve never felt this way before. It’s hard to describe. I feel blank, as though part of me has been erased. I’m stuck in a big black hole and there’s no way out and I’m surrounded by . . . despair. There’s a weight on my chest and it’s hard to breathe. Happiness feels foreign, like it’s a lie, and everyone around me is just pretending.”
“That’s a pretty good description right there. I’m glad you came in today. The first step is always the hardest, but I want you to know you did the right thing. I can help. There are so many things we can do to get you feeling better. I need to ask you a few more questions first, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Are you feeling suicidal?”
“I want to escape this feeling. But, no. I want to live.”
“Are you still on pain medication for your injury?”
“I stopped taking them last night. Is it true they can contribute to this feeling?”
“It is. How’s your pain? The pain in your hand,” the doctor clarifies.
“Tylenol seems to be working today.”
“Excellent. If you can, stay off the pain pills.”
I nod.
“Besides your injury, have there been any other major changes in your life?”
I mull that over for a few moments, still embarrassed by my constant tears. “Yes. I think I’ve lost someone who was very important to me.”
“A love interest?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. That’s a lot all at once. I believe what you are experiencing is situational depression. It can hit any of us at any time. Major changes in our lives can sometimes be very difficult to handle. So often we’re convinced that life should always be happy, when that’s simply not the case. Hard times come and go. The good news is that it will lift with time. It doesn’t happen overnight and there’s no magical cure. For now, I can give you something to help you cope.”
“I don’t want medication.”
“It will help, and I think it’s necessary right now. Just for thirty days, then we’ll reevaluate. There’s no need for you to be on medication for a long period of time.”
I nod through the blubbery mess I am. She’s right. It will help, and I do need it.
“I also think it would be helpful if you see a therapist.” She glances at my hand. “This is a major change in your life. I think you need to talk it out.”
“Okay. I think that will help.”
“Will you be able to play again?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I’m very sorry. You were wise to come in and seek help. You did the right thing. There’s no shame in feeling down. We all feel it at one time or another, but it can get out of control. If things don’t improve, I want you to call me right away, all right? Don’t suffer alone. Reach out to loved ones or friends. Tell them you need help. Surround yourself with the people who love you. The worst thing you can do is keep this to yourself or isolate. Call upon family for help. This is a time in your life when people need to be there for you. There will be other times when they need you, but right now it’s your turn.”
“All right. Thank you.”
I thank her ten more times before I escape her office, feeling validated and thankful for an astute doctor who took the time to listen to me.
I walk for another long while in the bright sunshine. I’m glad it’s not a foggy day. The sunshine doesn’t cure the Great Big Dark, but it makes me feel alive, like life isn’t over.
Finally, I turn for home. It’ll be getting dark soon, and I need to let Artie out. I’ll take him for a walk while I fill my prescription. The doctor arranged for an appointment with a therapist for the day after tomorrow. I told her I would be making plans to go home to Idaho soon. She still felt I should see the therapist right away. The idea of unburdening myself of my toxic thoughts definitely appeals.
So, there it is. This is my life now. Instead of waiting for the handsome prince to save me, I saved myself.
The thing is, I still want the handsome prince.
Slowly, I approach my apartment, feeling worn out after all of my walking and crying. It’s a good tired, though. I’ll sleep well this evening.
As I get closer, I realize someone is sitting on my doorstep.
And it’s not Ryker.
chapter thirty-five
~
IT’S THE MAN who has stolen my heart. Maybe he’s here to give it back. Maybe that’s why I’m so down. I can’t function without it.
When Zane sees me, he gets to his feet. He walks a few steps towards me, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands.
Zane. He’s here. The prince with no princess.
Is he here to see if the shoe fits? There’s not a glass slipper in sight. Maybe he doesn’t need one. Maybe he’s here to fight for me because he already knows I am the one for him.
If only.
My eyes are drawn to my small, fenced-in patio behind him. I can only see a slice of the scene through the open gate, but what I can see is magical.
A small round table boasts a pristine white tablecloth. Several candles are aglow on top of the table. Two dinner plates are covered by steel domes. I can also see a glimpse of more candles dotting my tiny patio. A string of twinkling lights crisscross overhead, forming a canopy of stars. Achingly beautiful violin music wafts through the air from a hidden speaker.
It’s beautiful. As the sun goes down, it will be even more so. I’m stunned by his efforts.
The man, the music, the setting. It’s everything I want, the touch of romance I need.
My eyes return to Zane. His expression is a mixture of sympathy, vulnerability, and tenderness. He also appears hesitant, perhaps wondering if I’ll accept his grand romantic gesture.
I don’t.
A flash of anger takes me by surprise. I didn’t think I had enough oomph in me to conjure up anything other than my blah feelings. Perplexed, I turn around and walk away.
Something makes me stop after only a few steps.
I change my mind, walk a little further, and stop again.
What am I doing? I bring my good hand to my forehead and rub one temple with circular motions.
Zane is making an effort. I wanted him to come for me, and he has. Yet I’m a bundle of angry and confused and sad feelings. They’re all inside me, jumbling around, each one vying for the opportunity to surface.
Slowly, I turn around again. Zane’s still in the same spot, watching me battle with my emotions. There’s a pleading expression on his face now, along with deeply furrowed eyebrows and slightly wild eyes.
I study him and see that the events of the past few weeks are written in his handsome features.
I haven’t had it easy, but neither has he.
He’s still in his suit, tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck, his top buttons unbuttoned, making me wonder how long he’s been waiting for me. His state of undress only adds to his appeal, and makes me swallow. Hard. Man, he looks good.
My indecision over, I approach him. I stop walking when we’re about two feet apart.
“Hey,” he says.
I want to scream Where. Have. You. Been? But I don’t. Instead, I return with, “Hey.”
We stare at each other for what feels like forever. I absorb his lifeforce like a starving parasite. I want to latch onto him and never let go. At the same time, I’m angry, an emotion I wasn’t expecting when and if Zane returned to my life. I don’t want to feel angry. But I do. It isn’t fair to him and what he’s been through recently, though.
Zane breaks the silence. “I was worried about you. I’ve been trying to call.”
I pull my phone out of my purse. I have twelve missed calls, all from Zane. The fact that he’s been trying to reach me causes a warm sensation to rush over me. “I forgot to turn my ringer back on after the meeting at the law office.”
He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling shakily. Is he anxious? Over us?
All I can think is me too. Is there still an us?
I squint in the face of the setting sun, trying to cover up the gloomy emotions taking over my features. “Why are you here, Zane?” It comes out much harsher than intended.
“To see you. I miss you like crazy.”
Like crazy? That’s good. That’s so good. I love like crazy. “Have you been waiting long?” I ask with a peevish tone.
“A while. The truth is, I would’ve waited all day.”
All day? For me? That’s even better than like crazy. “Why now?” I whisper. “Why not three days ago? Two days ago?” I needed him so much.
“Life is finally calming down. Sorry I’ve been so swamped.”
Swamped. My anger begins to deflate. He’s right. He’s been inundated with life changing events. He does look tired. I wonder if he’s had much sleep. I don’t know why tired looks good on him. So unfair. But he looks so good right now, I long to wrap my arms around him, to rest my head against his heart, to feel safe in his embrace.
“It’s okay. I understand.” I’m usually so independent. The Great Big Dark is really messing with me. I’ve been far too consumed with myself. I hate feeling so needy that I can’t recognize his current responsibilities and give him space.
“No, it’s not okay. I’ve left everything in Ryker’s capable hands for the next while and I’m on leave from the military. I’m all yours.”
“But . . .”
“You’re more important to me than anything else, Mila.”
I close my eyes, knowing it’s exactly what I needed to hear. “Did Ryker send you?” My voice cracks, revealing my unsteady emotions. I need to know he’s here of his own accord.
“He did pull me aside today, just before I left to go after you. He told me what he’d witnessed, said he was worried about you. It was what I’d already figured out after seeing you this morning. I came as soon as I could get away.”
I let that sink in. “Hold up. Ryker is actually trying to help us?”
“Yep. Go figure. Life is changing. All around us, all the time. It’s the way life works.”
I look down at the ground. “Yes, it is.”
“Mila, look at me. Please.”
I do.
“Some of the life changes can be good. Really good. If you’ll let them happen.”
“Maybe.” I swallow through a dry throat. “So, you’re here to save the day? Is that it?”
I regret my words immediately. I’m not interested in a verbal sparring match. It’s easy to toss around barbed comments with Ryker. He doesn’t mean anything to me. Zane is different. Zane means the world to me. I only want tenderness between us.
He doesn’t take offense. “I’m here for one reason and one reason only.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I love you,” he says with passion evident in every syllable. “I’m crazy in love with you.”
Oh. He’s not one to play games. If he feels it, he says it. It doesn’t get any more tender than that. I absorb his words, let them enter my heart, hoping they’ll chase away the darkness.
The darkness remains, but he just gave my anger a run for its money. How can I stay mad after that declaration?
“I can explain everything, Mila. Will you let me?”
“Yes, okay.” I owe it to myself to give us a chance.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you,” he says. “I didn’t know you were alone. I thought your parents were still here.”
I shake my head in the negative. I’m going to start crying again. It doesn’t matter. He already knows I couldn’t stop crying this morning. If he truly loves me, he’ll love me anyway, warts and all, nonstop crying and all.
“I didn’t know you’d left the penthouse,” he says.
“Haven’t you been there?”
“No. After I returned home from my overseas mission, I grabbed myself a hotel. I knew Ryker wouldn’t welcome me.”
I cradle my hand to my chest. “After . . . everything, I stayed with my parents when I was released from the hospital. They helped me get set up here.” I wipe away the stray tears that insist on falling.
Zane’s already disturbed expression deepens even more. He doesn’t ignore my random tears the way Ryker did.
“I thought you might return to Idaho with them while you recovered.”
“That’s my next step. I’ll be returning to Idaho in a week or two,” I say firmly. Not sure it comes across as firm when combined with my weepiness.
“Then why stay here at all?” he asks.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” I press my sleeves to my face, solving the problem of having to constantly call attention to my tears. Sort of.
Zane doesn’t politely avert his eyes. Oh no, he stares at me without apology.
“When did your parents leave?” he asks.
“They stayed for a little over a week. Mom came down with the flu, so Dad took her home. He has it now too. They’re not doing too well. They’ve had a few complications, but they’re going to be okay.”
Surprise washes over his features and his entire body goes still, like his blood froze in his veins. “What?” he says in a harsh whisper. “You’ve been alone all this time?”
I look down at the ground again. “Yeah.” My tears dot the sidewalk. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I feel so pathetic. I raise my chin, trying to put on a brave face.
“I’m so sorry, Mila. I had no idea.”
I nod. “I know.”
He studies me, his expression growing darker. He sees what I’m trying to hide, and I feel so vulnerable.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he asks, “How’s your hand?”
“It hurts,” I say bluntly. “All the time.”
“But it’s healing?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I see the doctor again in a couple of days.” There goes my shaky voice. It’s obvious I’m a mess, that I can’t control my emotions. “You know what, Zane? I’m fine. I really am.”
“I can see that,” he says, deadpan. He doesn’t say it sarcastically. Instead, his features are infused with worry.
“At least, I’m going to be fine. I might not be able to stop crying, but I have a path forward.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything different from you.”
“Oh, Zane.” I cover my face. “I don’t want you to be here because you feel sorry for me, because you feel bad for the poor girl who lost everything. I want you to be here because you want to be here, not due to guilt or remorse.”
His expression turns intense. “I’m here because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life, more than you can possibly comprehend.”
I stand there on the sidewalk, dumbfounded and blank, our second frozen encounter.
An older lady walks by with a tiny poodle on a leash. “Hey, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
Neither one of us laughs or responds.
“Will you join me on the patio? Please? We need to talk,” Zane says with a pleading tone. “We need privacy.”
He’s right. Too much has been left unsaid. “Okay,” I say when I start breathing again.
This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for.
Explanation time.
chapter thirty-six
~
ZANE ESCORTS ME to my transformed patio, and closes the gate behind us. He puts my roses in a vase on the table, adding to the elegance of the décor and causing a sweet scent to waft around us.
He has me sit down, placing a pillow behind my back, and a light throw blanket over my lap, like I’m an invalid or something.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
I nod, dumbfounded by the royal treatment. I can’t believe he’s doing all this for me.
The sound of a barking dog at my patio door makes him pause. “Is that . . . Articus?”
“Yes, I’m sure he needs to be let outside.” The door has a large window on it, but the blinds are closed.
“I’ll do it.” Zane holds out his hand.
“Keys?”
He unlocks the door and Artie bursts outside to pee. Amazingly enough, he doesn’t knock over a single candle. When he’s done, he runs to Zane, jumping up and down in his excitement to see him.
Zane picks him up. “Hey, buddy.” Artie is going nuts in his arms, hardly able to calm down. To me, he says, “Ryker’s got you dog watching again, I see.”
“No, he gave him to me.”
“What? Articus is yours now?” Zane holds Artie up, so they’re face to face. “You lucky dog, you.”
Zane rubs Artie’s neck while tucking him under one arm. He immediately closes his eyes and rests his head as though he’s in a state of euphoria.
Maybe I just need Zane to do the same for me. If only that could cure me.
“Are you ready to eat?” Zane asks.
“Okay.”
He lifts up the steel dome in front of me with a flourish. I look down and bite my lip. I want to laugh. So hard my stomach will ache. But I just don’t have it in me. Instead, more tears spill down my cheeks at the memories his meal choice evokes.
Before me, is a heaping bowl of Lucky Charms.
“In memory of one of our first meals together,” he says, subdued.
I don’t think he expected tears to be my response.
He watches me with penetrating eyes, making heat rush to my face. Zane makes me feel looked at.
“You’re not alone, Mila. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
He has no idea how much those words mean to me. I lower my head.
“Shoot, I forgot spoons. Mind if I borrow some?” he asks, trying to sound upbeat.
“No problem.”
He steps inside my dark apartment. I think about what he’s about to see, the conclusions he’ll draw. He’ll notice the pulled-tightly-closed drapes, the empty tubs of ice cream on the coffee table, my clothes piled around the room, and the makeshift bed on the couch. It screams the person who lives here has given up on life. He’ll see and comprehend everything. A part of me wishes he didn’t have to know about my struggles. But isn’t that what love is all about? Loving someone during good times and bad.
When he returns, he places the spoons on the table. He grabs two small cartons of milk from a cooler tucked into a corner of the patio. I didn’t notice it earlier. He takes his seat and settles Artie on his lap.
