Page 58 of Fear of Flying
But still . . .
“Even if you’re right, Jen, I’m clearly not enough. He left! Left without saying goodbye. In the middle of the night. That was intentional, deliberate. He had to sneak away before I woke up because the thought of letting me down easy was too much for—”
“Stop!” Jen yelled, her eyes still focused on the road.
The energy inside the car changed, and that hot and prickling flood of embarrassment and shame went straight through him. The feeling only grew with every passing second that the silence remained. Jen was looking for a safe place to pull over, he could tell, and he turned away to stare blankly out the passenger’s side window, dreading whatever she had to say.
A moment later, they entered an expansive, empty parking lot, and Zach let his gaze drift to the large, abandoned two-story building at its center. The old multiplex. Ten years ago, this lot had always been full, especially on weekends.
He closed his eyes as Jen pulled into a spot and stopped the car. He still didn’t turn back to look at her, but he heard the swish of fabric against fabric and the slight movement of the car that told him she’d probably shifted to face him.
“Look at me, dude,” she said, her voice containing that edge of best-friend-serious that he didn’t want to deal with right now. So he didn’t move.
“You’re supposed to drop me off at the rescue, remember? I told Javier he could have the rest of the day off.” God, he was so immature, too—clearly not capable of adulting because he was too afraid of having a simple conversation with his best friend.
Her voice was quieter now. “Dude. Zach, please stop.”
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”
“Stop talking shit about yourself in your head. I know you’re doing it.” He saw out of the corner of his eye as she shifted slightly again, then he felt her hand on his shoulder.
He let out a deep breath, and nearly all of the tension left him as he finally turned to look at her. He bit his lip, not quite sure what he could even say, what he wanted to say.
Jen just sat there, her eyes full of love and sympathy, and though his anxiety tried to, Zach couldn’t find any hint of judgment or anger. Only compassion, and the space he needed to gather his thoughts. All week, all week she’d been like this. And it wasn’t like Zach hadn’t known what an amazing friend Jen was already, it was just...
For the better part of a decade, she’d always been there for him, and he’d like to say he had been there for her too. There had never been anyone he’d felt more comfortable with, been able to truly be himself with, felt more loved and accepted by. No one until Drew.
Zach felt the tears burning at the back of his eyes, then spilling out quietly. That was why it hurt so much more. It’d barely been two days’ time, but Zach had felt so certain—still felt so certain—that he loved Drew. Was in love with Drew.
“I thought he loved me too,” Zach whispered hoarsely.
“Oh, Zach. I think he does.”
Zach wanted to argue, to remind her that she hadn’t even been there, to shout that she’d only met him once via video call before—before anything much had even happened between them. But he knew better than to try arguing with Jen right now, and that wasn’t even the point. It wasn’t worth arguing about because whether Drew did or didn’t love him, he’d still left, and had left deliberately without...
“He didn’t even leave a note. So I guess... so I guess I’ll never really know, will I?” He hated how pathetic the argument sounded when he said it out loud. It was true, though, and there were a thousand different things that fact said about their time together and how little it must have meant to Drew.
Jen sighed lightly. “Zach, you of all people should know that life is complicated and complex. Sometimes people do things that don’t seem to make sense. And unless you ask, you can’t really know for sure,” she said, her tone gentle and yet firm at the same time.
“But, I mean...” Zach shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know how to contact him. I can’t—”
“So you’re telling me you spent two days with the guy, talking for hours on end and... ‘talking’ for hours on end, and you don’t know enough about the guy to track him down? I call bullshit.”
“He clearly didn’t want to be tracked down, didn’t want me. I don’t even want to know, I don’t want to get my heart—”
“Bull. Shit.”
“No, Jen, no! It’s too—” Zach sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head, blinking back yet more tears. “I don’t want to get my heart broken all over again. What, you want me to google him, call his work, hunt down his contact information or—or drive across all of Texas to show up on his doorstep—if I can even find it—and say ‘Hi, do you love me? Did you mean to just... leave?’”
“Yes! Yes, I want you to do just that!” She leaned forward until her hands gripped both of his shoulders. “I want you to stop burying yourself in your work and breaking your back with all the extra hours at the rescue and torturing yourself inside your head. I will hold down the fort, and you will go get your man! There’s something else going on with him, Zach, I just know it. I just do, okay? So I’m going to cover the rest of Javier’s shift at the rescue, and I’m going to drop your ass off at home so you can pack. Got it?”
Zach inhaled again and dropped his eyes to where his hands sat in his lap, wringing together. God, was she right? Had there been some other reason Drew had left? And could Zach... at least try to find out?
Slowly, he nodded and looked back up at Jen. He didn’t want to hope—because hope left him open again for another broken heart. But his heart already ached so much. And that wasn’t going to go away.
She was right. He had to at least try.
Chapter Twenty-Five