by Lindsey Hart
“I know. I’m sorry. I should never have started this. I should never have let myself…uh…I’m just sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I can’t help that the universe hates me. Out of all the people in the world, I just can’t be with you and watch it go to shit and have us end up hating each other. I’d rather stop now while we still can because who knows? The signs might be real. Don’t mess around with nature. Nature is a cold, hard biotch.”
“One day,” Raiden sighs, “you’re going to have to learn how to use real swears.”
He used to say that when we were kids. He’s always said it. That’s part of the problem. This new adult Raiden is all tied up with the old one. The one who used to be my best friend. I don’t know how to explain it, even to myself. I just can’t take risks that would obliterate all those past, happy memories because they mean too much to me. I’ve already been through enough shit and been used so many times that I know nothing good can come from having a ton of money. It ruins people. Not that it’s ruined Raiden, but I think it might ruin us if we were together. He could literally have anyone and anything he wanted. I’m pretty sure he’d get bored with me, and I’m just so tired of being the one left behind.
“I don’t want to go fishing tomorrow,” I say softly, dropping my eyes to the floor. “I’m giving my notice. I just want to go home, for real. Right now.”
“Alright.”
“Alright?” My head jerks up.
“Yes. I’ll get you a ticket, and I’ll book it for tomorrow. Or tonight, if you want.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.” Raiden’s face looks so peaceful that it amazes me.
How can he look like that when I’m standing here and basically being a massive poopy pants? He’s way too nice, and he’s taking this far too well. I’d say it means he doesn’t care if I didn’t know better. And I do know better. Just because all the pain was replaced with something blank and kind of serene doesn’t mean he’s not hurting on the inside, where he doesn’t want me to see it.
“I’m not going to keep you here against your will,” Raiden says softly. “If you want to go home, I can’t stop you. I don’t want you to go, and I wish you’d give this a shot. I’d really like you to give it a shot. To give me a chance. Because I think I deserve one. I think we could be great like we used to be and then some. I think our parents would eventually come around. Everyone would because we’d rock as a couple. I just have this gut feeling, and I’ve trusted my gut over the years. It hasn’t steered me wrong yet. Okay, maybe a couple of times, but those were flukes, and I’ve learned from them. I also know what it’s like to be the one who gets left behind. I know what it’s like to get used. It sucks, big fucking time. I know where you’re coming from. I also know I can’t talk you into anything or change your mind. You’d have to do that for yourself. So, I’ll book you a ticket. But, if you do change your mind, you know where to find me.”
My mouth falls open so hard that my jaw creaks in protest.
“Are you for real?”
“Definitely. Why would I say I think we could be great if I’m not willing to give it a real shot? Sometimes, that means waiting, and sometimes it means hoping the universe will give a certain someone some opposite, positive signs.”
“You won’t wait. You have too much money and too much opportunity. There are too many other fishes in the sea.”
“People aren’t fish. And as for the money and opportunity, that’s true, but I’d rather share and do it with you. Then again, that’s me. You know how I feel. I’m not going to change my mind. I’ve already waited a lifetime for you, Zoe. There will never be anyone else like you. I was too young and dumb to realize it the first time around, but I’m not going to make the same mistake again. Now, I know I’m yours, and I know this is the real deal.”
“Please don’t say that. Don’t wait around until you’re old and ancient and then blame me for ruining your life.”
Raiden chuckles softly. It’s amazing he can do that at all because I feel like I’m about to shatter into a piss pile of tiny pieces.
“I won’t. By now, I’ve realized that sometimes, just being by yourself and waiting until you’re ready for the right person to come into your life is the best thing you can do. My life will have plenty of meaning if you don’t decide to change your mind. Sure, I’ll always wish you did, but it won’t stop me from living the best life I possibly can, even without you. Even with a broken heart.”
“Stop!”
Raiden grins at me, but I can tell it’s a little bit forced. He’s making an effort to try and make this easier for me, even if I don’t deserve it. I feel like I’ve been all over the place on this. I can’t just want someone and act this way and then panic and tell them I’m jumping ship. It’s seriously not cool. I don’t do this, I don’t act like this, and I certainly don’t let myself get carried away like this. I don’t let my passions or fears rule my life.
So why am I doing it now? The fallout feels heart-wrenchingly terrible.
Maybe I just need time. I’m not going to tell Raiden that, though, because giving him false hope would be worse than anything I’ve done so far, and I can’t do that to him. Not after everything else I’ve put him through.
“Would you really book me that ticket?”
“Yes. I’ll have it emailed to you in a few minutes.”
All I can do is stand there, hoping he can see this hurts me, too and that I really am grateful to him right now. I don’t deserve his kindness, and I kind of want to kick my own ass right now for my appalling lack of self-control and for being so thoughtless. That’s right. I can admit I suck, and maybe I can even do something to change that. Maybe. But I can’t make any promises because promises are even worse. They usually just get broken. Raiden and I already walked out of each other’s lives once. It could easily happen again, and this time, it wouldn’t be our parents driving us apart with their divorce. It would be our own fault, which would be so much worse.
I can’t stand here and sort through my deep-seated fears at the moment. I can’t sort through anything going on in my brain or even start to unpack the baggage, anger, pain, resentment, and bitterness I didn’t even know I had.
I don’t have anything else to say, so I just give Raiden a small, sad nod. “Thank you.” I do manage to get that out, at least.
He nods back.
I know. I’m a real winner. Some people aren’t the hero of their own stories. Some people are real, and real people have pasts. They have fears, feelings, and doubts, and they also have memories and crap that makes them who they are. Right, I should become a psychiatrist because I’m clearly good at examining my feelings. Or at shoving them down and pretending that they don’t exist. I’ve done that before too.
There isn’t anything more to do at the moment, so I turn and leave Raiden standing there with a pink floral sheet wrapped around his waist as he tries to fight off a sad expression, his eyes glistening with both hope and pain.
If I just broke him, I broke myself too, which isn’t any consolation. It’s just a fact that I can’t change.
CHAPTER 18
Raiden
I know Zoe didn’t want me to do it. She would never have asked me for it, and she probably thinks it’s just another piss poor sign from the universe or whatever. My head told me I shouldn’t send her a cheque, but I went with my gut.
I sent it.
And it turns out the good ol' gut is worth something after all because Zoe cashed it.
All one hundred thousand dollars of it.
It’s been over a month since that tree just about came down on the cabin. As it turns out, the lodge owners were really worried and super apologetic. The old thing had been giving the camp problems for a while, and they’d never gotten around to cutting it down. It really could have crashed right through the cabin. They felt awful about almost killing me (they didn’t know Zoe was there since I kept that to myself), so they gave me a fifty percent discount on the whole trip.
I have to admit I went through with it even after telling myself it was a pretty shady thing to do. I hired a guy who gave me the details. Like where Zoe’s living and the school she enrolled in. She’s starting her vet-tech course, just like she said she would, which is why I sent her the cheque. I didn’t want her bombarded with student loans, and also, maybe I felt a little bit guilty. I messed up her life in more than one way. But it’s not just all guilt. I sincerely do want to help her. There are pretty limited ways I can do that, but giving her the cash she needed to pay for her rent and bills and tuition was one of them. I didn’t think she’d take it, but she did.
She used the money to enroll in training so she might make other’s lives better. Zoe’s just like that. She’s kind, and her heart is huge. It’s what gives me hope that there might, one day, be room for me in it. Eventually, she might change her mind. I want to believe her reaction that day at the cabin was just pure panic. She was feeling things, I was feeling things, and sometimes, people lose their shit a little. It doesn’t mean she meant all, or at least part, of what she said.
So all I can do is wait.
I told her I would, and I have. In short, it seriously sucked. Losing Zoe frightens me more than losing everything I’ve worked so hard for—the companies, all my money, my property. Everything. I already let her go once. Can I really do it again? Or maybe the question isn’t if I can. Perhaps it’s should I? Waiting and hoping—for a man who drove himself hard all his life, a self-made man—is hard. It’s hard for a man of action to do absolutely nothing.
I feel haunted. All I’ve done is go over and over that conversation we had in the cabin that day. Maybe I should have pushed her a little harder, pushed back, begged. Ultimately, I know I can’t force her into making a decision she doesn’t want to make, but maybe I should have fought harder. I didn’t want to hurt her, and I wanted to give her time, but maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe she thinks I didn’t really care after all. I don’t know. It’s confusing.
I can’t even count how many times Zoe has hijacked my thoughts since I saw her last. Now, I know she’s going to haunt every single one of my days, no matter how I try and put her from my mind or how busy I try and make myself. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t shut it off, and I can’t just forget. I also can’t pretend like it never happened—any of it. Our few weeks together and the years we shared when we were younger.
I know I could do more. I could push myself harder at work and drive myself, acquire more, and make more money. Always more, but for what purpose? Suddenly, everything just feels ultimately empty.
And I know why. It’s the whole priorities thing. They’ve changed.
Instead of thinking about how to add to my empire, I’m thinking about the exact shade of Zoe’s eyes and the tattoo on her hip. The one she never removed even though she swore she did. Zoe came into my life when we were just kids, but she left her mark on me in more ways than the crudely inked Z I have on my own hip.
After weeks of waiting, I almost cave and ask my mom for advice, but I don’t, only because I’m certain Zoe wouldn’t appreciate me blabbing about what happened between us without her permission. If I had a neutral friend who didn’t know her, I might have asked them what in the heck I should be doing, but after going through a mental list of names and faces, it made me realize how few close friends I actually have. I know lots of people, but no one who I would go to for advice about something like this.
I promised to wait, and I promised to be patient. I told Zoe I’d be fine living my life and that she wouldn’t ruin me, but I know it’s not true. It was a lie.
I should have fought for her. I shouldn’t have let her go. Now, I’m no longer sure it was the right thing to do.
The jangle of my office phone nearly sends me flying out of my desk chair. I’m doing the best I can to bury myself in work, so yes, I’m in the office, although I have been thinking about not keeping any sort of regular hours as of late. I might take a break and do something else for a bit. Not be here. Maybe not even be in the country. I just haven’t figured out what that might look like yet, so, for the moment, I’m still here, still plugging away at all the shit it takes to keep this empire running. Not that I need to do anything anymore. I employ people who are really good at doing that for me. I just get to read the reports and suggestions, go over the numbers, and figure out if things are where they should be and where to go next.
I immediately think about taking the phone off and leaving it that way, but I notice the line flashing is from Sharon, the front receptionist. I reluctantly pick up, but only because I know if I don’t, I’m going to get a knock on my door in a few minutes, and I’d honestly rather be left alone.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Vanstone? There’s someone here who would like to see you. I can see you don’t have any appointments or meetings scheduled. Should I send her back?”
I grip the phone receiver a little tighter. “Do you know who it is?”
“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry.” Sharon laughs obnoxiously into the phone. She’s actually a great receptionist, and she’s a miracle worker when it comes to booking just about anything. She also keeps the office running smoothly and keeps everyone in line. If it’s someone I do not want to be bothered with, she’ll do the tactful job of sending them away. And right now, that’s most probably what will happen to the person. Poor choice of timing of their part. “Yes. Uh, her name is Zoe. Zoe Anderson.”
I leap out of the chair so fast that I bang my knee on the side of my desk. I hop around, still holding the phone as I curse under my breath and bite down on my tongue to keep more foul words from escaping.
“Yes, sure. Please send her in.”
I hang up the phone, knowing I have about one minute to try and get my shit together before Zoe walks through my open office door. I’m thankful I didn’t modernize the place after I leased it. The office building was modern enough even if the offices weren’t all fancy, all-glass deals like the ones you see on TV shows about big corporate companies.
My office isn’t any bigger than anyone else’s because I didn’t feel the need. I get by just fine with a desk and a few rows of shelves and filing cabinets—the usual. Not that it’s small because it’s not, and the big windows at the far end overlook a park with a walking path. It’s kind of nice, in a really soulless corporate sort of way.
I use every second of that minute, but nothing could prepare me to see Zoe again. She’s been on my mind every single second of every single day and for most parts of a few sleepless nights as well. She looks amazing. Like she hasn’t suffered these past few weeks at all. Her hair is swept up in a high ponytail, and she has just enough makeup on that I notice because her eyes look huge, and her lips look even pinker and fuller, her cheekbones sharper. She’s wearing a bright red blouse tucked into a pair of dark skinny jeans, accompanied by black flats.
She looks killer, and my poor heart nearly stops working completely after racing at an ungodly, unnatural pace for a few seconds. All I can do is collapse back into my desk chair, which is thankfully right behind me. If it weren’t, I would have landed straight on my ass. As it is, I kind of feel like I did anyway. I feel winded, and it’s hard to catch my breath.
Zoe drops into the chair in front of my desk and sets her shoulder bag down on the chair beside her. She swings one leg up, crossing them neatly at the knees.
I’m very aware that my office door is still open. I should get up and shut it, but I can’t seem to move. I’m frozen. My mouth is probably hanging open, and I might be sweating as I feel damp all over, both hot and cold. My shirt, since it’s a pale blue, is probably sticking to me in obvious spots.
“Raiden…” The sound of my name on Zoe’s lips slays me all over. Is she really here, or did I eat something funky for lunch, and now I’m hallucinating?
“Zoe…” I can only breat
he out an echo of her name.
“I wanted to tell you I’ve done some thinking. I mean, a lot of thinking. All I’ve done is think.”
“Me too,” I splutter.
Zoe keeps a perfectly straight face. If she’s done some thinking, what does it mean? I wish I could ask her, but my tongue won’t work. I wish she would just tell me before I die here, right in my office. That would create a lot of chaos for the people who work here, so I’d rather not, just to save them all the trouble of having to carry my lifeless ass out of here. I imagine the headlines and therapy bills after would both be huge, and it’s not the way I’d like to go out, so I manage to regulate my breathing enough to slow down the rapid-fire pounding of my heart.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“You what?” I gasp. That statement was said way too flatly and just like that. It’s so anti-climactic that I don’t think I heard her correctly. Maybe she’s not talking about us. Maybe she’s talking about the job. Yes, she’s definitely talking about her job. She probably came here to ask me for it back. This isn’t about us at all.
“I changed my mind.”
“About…?”
“About us.”
I nearly leap out of my chair for a second time. It’s too soon to get up on my desk and do a happy dance, so I force my ass to stay glued to the seat, for now. Somehow, my tongue miraculously forms words.
“Uh, you…uh…you did…?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I panicked. I kept thinking and thinking and going over it. Maybe those three things were signs, but maybe they weren’t. I don’t know. I stopped thinking about that and started thinking about my dad—about our parents and all the relationships I’ve seen. I wanted to tell myself they never work, but I realized doing that was just copping out in the biggest, most asshole way ever. I don’t want to think of myself as a coward, and I don’t want to be so afraid that all that fear keeps me from making decisions. Or forces me to. I guess I’m trying to say I don’t want to be ruled by it.”
