Chapter 48

48

JASON

I walked into Fred's Diner out on the county highway about ten minutes before nine. Fred's was one of those old-timey-looking diners with checkerboard tile floors and vinyl stools wrapped around a worn Formica counter, where line cooks prepared greasy breakfast, lunch, and dinner three hundred sixty-five days a year. It was one of the few places I'd known would be open on the Memorial Day holiday.

I nodded and smiled at Holly, the only server on duty, then chose a booth in the corner of the cramped space. It was right next to one of the large windows, where I could watch for Zach. I wanted to see him coming, to have that extra moment to prepare myself before facing him again.

For the hundredth time since I'd seen him on Saturday, I wondered if I'd made a mistake by agreeing to meet him this morning. In my defense, I was drunk when I responded to his request to talk. I rarely drank to excess, but I'd felt fully justified in doing so after the shock of seeing him after all these years.

It hadn't mattered that I'd known he would be there or that I'd been preparing for it for over a month. The reality of seeing him in the flesh had sent me over an edge I hadn't even realized I was close to. It was like he punched in the secret code that unleashed all the anger and hurt I'd managed to mostly bury years ago. As a result, I punched him and then proceeded to get wasted with my friends.

A black Acura SUV pulled into the lot and Zach climbed out, surprising me. I wasn't sure what I'd expected him to be driving—something flashier or sportier, I supposed. He was dressed casually in a fitted T-shirt, athletic shorts, and flip-flops. Perhaps he planned on spending time at the lake today.

He entered the diner, spotting me almost immediately, and headed in my direction. He offered a tentative smile, which slid off his face when I simply gave him an up-nod. I wasn't trying to be a dick, but this man had ripped my heart out. I couldn't summon the energy to be polite.

He slid into the seat across from me and grabbed one of the laminated menus nestled among the condiments at the back of the table. Holly approached with a couple of mugs and a pot of coffee.

"Y'all ready to order, or do you need a couple?" she asked as she poured the coffee.

"I'm just having coffee for now. Thanks." I wasn't interested in a meal with him. I wasn't sure I'd be here long enough.

Zach returned the menu to its spot. "Same for me."

She nodded and moved back behind the counter, chatting with the customers sitting there. I studied him, taking in the differences nine years had made to his appearance. He hadn't changed much. He wore his dark hair about the same length, a little longer on the top with the sides trimmed short. There was some swelling and bruising near his left eye from where I'd hit him. He was tan, like he'd spent a lot of time outdoors, and it occurred to me that I didn't know how he was spending his retirement. I didn't even know what degree he'd settled on. He'd taken away my right to know those things when he'd boarded a flight to LA and never looked back.

He squirmed under my scrutiny, but I simply sipped my coffee, waiting for him to begin.

"So, um, thanks for meeting me."

I nodded.

"Okay, so I guess I just…wanted to tell you how sorry I am…for the way I left things between us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sorry? You're sorry ?"

He winced. "Well, yeah. I know it's not enough, but…"

"You're damned right it's not enough. Jesus, Zach. Weeks of texting you without a response. Without an explanation. Visiting your sister in the hospital and trying to keep a brave face because I didn't want to upset her or set back her recovery while simultaneously hoping she'd drop a hint as to why you hadn't called. Mom asking me questions about how you were doing because she cared and not knowing how to answer."

I brushed a hand through my short crop of hair, trying to calm myself before I gave the entire diner a show.

"I'm sorry. I'm fucking this up."

"Then try harder," I said through gritted teeth.

"Okay. You're right. Okay." He blew out a breath. "So I got back to LA in the middle of the night and slept most of the next day. I think it was a combination of stress and exhaustion, but also, I think it was a coping mechanism. I just wanted to hide from the world a little longer. I didn't want to think about Drea's accident or leaving you or all the coursework I was behind on. I just wanted to not …feel for a little while.

"Clayton finally woke me up for dinner Sunday night and forced me to eat something. I was going to text you then, but I was still so tired and overwhelmed, and I just…didn't. I told myself I'd text you the next day or maybe call you after class. I'd just get through that first day back, and then I'd call. I'd hear the sound of your voice, and it would make me feel better. But by the time I got through classes, my workout, and dinner, it was getting late, and I told myself I didn't want to wake you up…"

"So what? You were having second thoughts about us? I don't understand why you kept putting off calling me…"

"No, I loved you, Jason. You have to believe that. I wanted to call you. I just…couldn't."

I reared back as if I'd been struck. "Are you fucking serious? The first time you tell me you love me is nine years after the fact?"

The color drained out of his face as he fought to find his words, but I didn't wait for him to figure it out.

"Well guess what? I loved you too. Was worried sick over you. Worried enough that I called your dad. I nearly bought a plane ticket and flew out there to see for myself that you were okay. I held on to hope that you'd be back at the beginning of February and we could finally talk. Work out whatever it was that had come between us. Only you never came.

"Your sister had only been home from the hospital for a few days when I found out you weren't coming. She cried when she told me, Zach. We cried together. Turns out that you were at least texting her some, but even that was minimal, and neither of us could figure out why you'd abandoned us."

I watched as a tear slipped down his cheek. A part of me was glad for it. I wanted him to hurt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Yeah, you said that." I stood, pulled a fiver from my wallet, and tossed it on the table. "I don't think I can hear any more of this today. I don't know why you're back here in Astaire, and I'm not conceited enough to think it's just for me, but I'd suggest keeping your distance. I'm not interested in anything else you have to say."

I started to walk away but stopped when Zach's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. "Wait. Please don't go."

"I don't owe you any more of my time." I shook out of his grasp and walked out.

After leaving the diner, I spent a good portion of the day catching up on yard work. Physical labor seemed like the best way to get out some of the anger that seemed to be constantly simmering under the surface since I'd seen him Saturday night.

I lived in a small two-bedroom, one-story house I purchased about three years ago. I was fortunate that firefighting in Astaire was a paid position, but even still, it had taken years of working odd jobs and saving to afford the downpayment. It wasn't a fancy house, but I wasn't a fancy guy, so it worked for me. I kept it neat and tidy on the inside and out and was proud of the life I'd made for myself.

A life I'd once thought might include Zach.

I'd struggled with letting go of that idea for a long time. I hadn't even realized I'd started to think about a life with Zach in any sort of long-term way until that option was taken from me. Somehow, in the time between New Year's Eve and that Saturday when we said goodbye at the airport, I'd started thinking of Zach and me as an us . A we . A couple with a future.

It was crazy when I thought about it. We'd only been together for a matter of weeks. Weeks . How could I have possibly fallen so deep in such a short amount of time? I'd tried to convince myself over the years that I'd exaggerated what I felt for him. I'd taken feelings that were new and exciting and magnified them into this all-encompassing love for the ages. And the fact that I'd never had any closure allowed my imagination to run away with the ending.

In my mind, I'd played out a million different scenarios that might explain why he'd ghosted me. None of them had ever quite fit. I certainly hadn't expected I wanted to, but I couldn't would be his defense.

Deciding it was time for a break, I pushed my mower to a stop and cut the engine. I walked into the house, pulling off my shirt and using it to mop up the sweat dripping into my eyes. It wasn't an overly hot day, but the sun was shining, making it feel hotter than the seventy-degree temp. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filling it with water from the tap and drinking it in long gulps.

What bothered me the most from this morning's conversation with Zach was that it left me with more questions than answers. There had to be more to the story than what he'd given me. Scratch that, in what I'd allowed him to give me. I'd been too angry to let him finish.

But damn, could you blame me? His reasoning had been weak. My anger was justified. If he'd loved me as he said, wouldn't he have pushed through whatever mental blocks were preventing him from calling? If they were even mental blocks at all. Sounded like an excuse to me.

This line of thinking wasn't getting me anywhere. It certainly wasn't doing anything to cool my temper. Resolved to give the whole thing a rest, I set the glass on the counter and headed back outside.