Anxious Hart

Chapter Seven

Standing in the doorway of my childhood bedroom, I was hesitant to enter the room. Although I had visited my grandparents over the years, I had not stayed in this room. Usually I would sleep on the couch or even in one of the spare rooms, but rarely did I cross the threshold of this tainted territory.

It looked untouched, like a time capsule of my youth. To me it was an eerie reminder of a period I longed to forget. The hardwood floors gleamed in the emerging sunlight through the large windows overlooking the ocean view. A queen sized bed coved with a dark purple comforter and various accent pillows sat near the corner of the room. My desk and dresser remained the same, covered with tiny mementos and awards from my youth. The lavender painted walls covered with various pictures of friends and a smiling innocent face that seemed almost unrecognizable.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to approach one of the pictures. Tracing the curling edge of the photo, my eyes focused on a younger version of myself, beaming. A teenage Zach was hugging me from behind as he snapped the picture, squishing his cheek next to mine. The picture was simple and happy, just before life became complicated.

Shaking my head, my focus turned to the pile of luggage Zack had placed neatly in the corner of the room near my closet. I searched through my belongings to find my bathroom supplies.

Moving into my en suite, I forced my past the bitter chill that raced down my spine. Focusing on the giant shower, I sat out everything and made sure I had a fresh towel. As the water began to heat the room, I forced my mind to not wander as I stripped down to step under the warm jets. I exhaled the steam, letting the heat soothe my road-weary joints. Normally the shower would be my solace, a place where I could find clarity or even have occasional epiphanies. I would bask in the warmth while I was able to exfoliate, scrub, and moisturize every inch of my skin. But today, I forbid my mind the luxury of wandering.

After finally emerging from my bathroom, I was surprised to see I had actually been in the shower for an hour. I quickly towel dried my hair and threw on a comfortable dress with a cardigan sweater. Noticing my puffy eyes, I opted for a little makeup.

“No crying,” I promised my reflection as I applied a layer of mascara.

I gave myself another look in the mirror. Normally, I was a confident woman. Even at 37 years old, I was commonly mistaken to be several younger. I was taller than average with an hourglass figure. Maybe it was the way I wore my long, wavy brown hair. Or the glow of my skin. The usual twinkle of my hazel eyes.

I had always been told there was an aura to me that attracted people. My grandmother claimed it was a light that glowed as deep as my soul. Personally, I never saw it. Even now, when I felt so emotionally stripped and raw, I was sure all vulnerability would show. In this moment, all I could feel was nothing.

“No crying,” I repeated. Nodding to myself, I left the bedroom.

Quickly walking down the stairs in my bare feet, I discovered Zack sitting at the kitchen island. He was buried in his laptop, his brow furrowed as he worked. His shirt sleeves were still rolled to his elbows, revealing tattoos on both forearms. He was resting his thumb on his cheek while rubbing his index finger against his temple, an old study habit from our youth. I used to know when he was intently focused if we would run his temple this way.

Crossing my arms, I leaned against the wall. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Zack looked at me with a smile. “Hey. I thought you fell asleep.”

“No sleep for me,” I smiled walking towards the island.

He closed his laptop. “You look good. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, the shower definitely helped.”

“Good.” His eyes remained on me for a few moments. I drummed my fingers on the cool quartz counter, trying to decide what to say next.

“Food!” He jumped out of his seat, walking over to the refrigerator. “I just got sandwiches; in case you did want to nap. Easier than anything hot.”

I nodded. “That’s a good plan. Thank you.”

As he grabbed the sandwiches, I gathered some drinks. Sitting across the island from one another, we began to eat our meal in silence.

It was a peaceful meal. Zack did not push any small talk and I did not feel pressured to start any unnecessary conversation on my side, either. The simplicity was something I had missed in my day-to-day insanity, which I found very refreshing. I sensed that this was a nice change of pace for him as well. Its amazing how enjoying another person’s company in silence can be the ideal reprieve sometimes.

Once we were finished eating, cleanup was easy. It was already late in the afternoon, so my first day back at the house was not very productive. I felt bad for not being in the best state of mind to allow Zack to go over any legal documents, especially considering how kind and helpful he was acting. I knew that my initial reaction to seeing him was not the warmest.

Maybe I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt? I knew that eventually we would have to discuss everything. I knew that we had to get past the details of that night so long ago. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he once held my trust so easily. I could tell him anything without any fear or reservation. He never held any judgement in his eyes towards me and always told me the truth…

Or so I thought.

Could we honestly get back to that? Would I ever be able to fully trust Zack Perrin again after that night?

“Claire?”

I blinked my eyes, not realizing that I had been drying the same glass for easily five minutes. “What? I’m sorry.”

“I asked if you were ever planning on putting that glass away?” Zack hand washed the few dishes from the day while I had offered to dry. A smile was spreading across his lips as he took the glass from me and put it away in the cabinet.

“Still road weary, I guess,” I replied with a shrug as I tossed the towel on the counter, but he wasn’t buying my weak excuse.

“Is your head still bothering you? Or the alcohol you had earlier?”

“No, not that.” I bit my lower lip, feeling dizzy from his close proximity again. Moving quickly, I tried to not slam my hip into the counter as I backed away from him. “I think I probably should feed Riley dinner and call it an early night.”

Zack nodded, stepping closer to me. “I’ll hang out with you, then.”

I quickly turned, almost knocking a lamp off the end table. He caught it before I had a chance to grab it. “No. No, you have been great today and have done way, way more that necessary. I really appreciate it, Zack. But I’ve got this. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re in this big house, out of sorts and emotional. I would not do this for just any client, Claire. Only the cute ones,” he said with a playful wink.

Narrowing my eyes at him, he laughed. “What? I can’t joke with you?”

He was still approaching me, backing me against the side of the couch. I looked up at his playful eyes as he stood inches from me.

Honestly, I could not tell if he enjoyed this little game, watching me attempt to conceal my feelings under a mask of cool and calm when my insides were beginning to burn. For the first time in years, I felt awkward, flushed, and flowing with emotions that I just wanted to lock up. I never felt this way with Andrew, not truly. These urges with Zack were just natural and unprompted. I felt could not fight them, yet I knew I had to try.

Flashing a playful smile, I forced all thoughts to the back of my mind. “Of course, you can joke with me. It’s just been a crazy past few days and I’m not my normal self today. But it’s nothing a good movie can’t fix. Why don’t you pick one and I will feed Riley?” Patting him on the shoulder, I moved past Zack to the kitchen where Riley’s supplies were stored.

Once his food began hitting the bottom of his bowl, Riley sprang to life. He had been snoozing peacefully the entire time on the couch since I went upstairs to shower. That dog was definitely a puppy at heart, full of energy and love. Food and the word “walk” could wake him up from the deepest sleep.

As his fluffy tail thumped the lower cabinets, I refilled his water bowl with fresh water. He gleefully inhaled his food, spilling a few pieces over the side in his excitement.

Zack watched as he searched for a movie to stream from his phone. “I feel the same way about food, buddy.”

After washing my hands, I wandered back over to the living room. I made myself comfortable on the large chair, draping my legs over the side and leaning my head against the arm.

“You don’t want the couch? There’s plenty of room to share.” Zack eyed me as he positioned himself on the large sofa, leaving extra room for me to join him.

“I’m perfectly fine here.” I had always enjoyed lounging in chairs when it came to watching movies. If I laid on that comfortable couch, I knew that I would fall asleep before the movie really started. Furthermore, I knew deep down that it was best to keep distance from Zack.

I knew that I was emotional and tired. Maybe that was the source of these strange feelings and thoughts today. Only a good night’s sleep and some pondering would help me recalibrate my senses and get back on track.

Until then, distance. Distance was key.

“So, what type of movie would you like to watch?” Zack asked as he pulled up Netflix on his phone. “Comedy, drama, horror, documentary, romance?” he playfully winked at me as he listed the last option.

“Comedy,” I laughed after I rolled my eyes.

With a nod he made a selection and we settled in for the film. It was one of those comedies that was stupid funny, so it didn’t require a lot of thought. After about 30 minutes, we both agreed it was just bad and not really funny. It continued to play in the background as we began talking.

As the afternoon turned into early evening, I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him. I found my heart torn between the boy I knew and the man he had become. Even though he was a lawyer, Zack had also joined my Grandpa’s motorcycle club. He was just a member, a “motorcycle enthusiast”, as he said, since his career took up most of his time. His mom still lived in the house next door.

“So you dated a politician,” Zack stated with a small smirk. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, I did.” I pursed my lips, hesitant where this conversation was going to go.

But he didn’t say anything more about the topic. “Are you still writing?”

“Of course. I am working on my next book now.”

“That’s great! What’s this one about?”

I shrugged, playing with my nails. “I had started writing about a conflicted family in a small town, but it didn’t feel right. To be honest, the last few books haven’t exactly felt right.”

Zack nodded. He was staring out the window, his hands in his pockets, hesitant to say something. Even after all this time, I could still read his expressions.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he smiled politely.

Tilting my head, I sighed. “That may work on most people, but you’re talking to me. Please don’t bullshit me, even if you are a lawyer.”

Taking a few steps, he cleared his throat and rubbed his stubbled chin with his hand. I could tell by his furrowed brow he was choosing his words wisely before he sat on the coffee table in front of me. Licking his lips, he finally started. “I’ve actually been following your writing for years. I always knew you would be amazing, Claire. I was so proud of you when you published your first book in college. Your grandparents were so proud, obviously, but I was also bragging about you. The girl next door turned bestselling author. Your writing was so clever, twisted, sharp, entertaining. You had an edge and you were daring, bold…your books were the definition of page-turners.” His eyes met mine, making me blush.

“There was a point, when your genre changed. You stopped writing like the authors who inspired you over the years only to conform to a more basic, mild form of storytelling. The passion and imagination that hooked so many readers was gone. You were gone. Don’t get me wrong, the stories were still good, but they were missing your gift. They were missing you.”

I nodded as my gaze dropped to the floor. My chest felt heavy with his words. I knew everything he said was true. It was another sacrifice I had made in my life to please Andrew, another way I tried to mold myself to fit into his picture perfect world. I tried to conform to make myself more appealing to the masses rather than stand by the very writing that I loved. Even in that aspect of my life, where I thought I was succeeding, I was actually a fraud.

“One of the great things about you, is people love you. Your fans adore you, and they are loyal…almost to a fault. The true ones, anyway. Your work can still inspire, even if it is not your true passion. You don’t owe anyone a damn thing, but try going back to your roots. Go back to what inspires you. Do it for them.”

“I don’t know if I can, Zack. I’m scared to let people down… to fail. What if I’ve lost my touch?”

“Then do it for you. Do what makes you happy.”

Tears began to well in my eyes as I tried to blink them away. “Honestly, I don’t know what that is anymore,” I confessed.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I knew,” I shrugged as a traitorous tear slid down my cheek. “I thought all the pieces were falling in place a few days ago. All the pieces of my blissfully ignorant life, anyway. Sure, I was lying to myself and dying inside, but who isn’t?”

“Sane people,” Zack responded as he placed his hand over mine. “I’ve heard that’s how sane people live, anyway. Not that I’d know.”

I scoffed through my tears and he smiled at me, wiping my cheek. “Hey, at least you smiled,” he whispered.

Lifting my hand to meet his, I leaned into the warmth of his touch. My eyes were locked on his as I fully absorbed the beauty and emotion of his words. I thought he could hear my heart pounding in my chest as I felt my body lean towards his.

Zack’s eyes were exploring my face, moving from my eyes to my lips. His thumb was still caressing my cheek. Our faces were mere inches apart, our breath mingling.

Looking down at me, he licked his lower lip. Just the simple action made me want to grab him, but I resisted. I could tell his breathing was like mine: heavy. We were waiting and watching the each other, wondering who would make the first move.

My mind was a fog. I could feel my body being pulled closer to him, but my mind was gripped with fear. This draw was so unexpected and unexplained, but I knew I wanted it. Furthermore, I knew Zack did too. Yet my brain was racing, telling me it was too soon. We had too many unresolved issues, too much to discuss in light of our reunion.

“I can’t, Zack,” I finally blurted. Biting the inside of my cheek, I could feel tears in my eyes as I tried to avoid the hurt expression the crossed his face and filled his eyes.

Zack’s hand remained on my cheek as I tried to turn from him. “You can’t what, Claire?”

“I just can’t,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Claire!” Pulling me into his embrace, I cried. He just held me, smoothing my hair and placing occasional reassuring kisses on the top of my head.

He didn’t ask questions or push me for anything more. Zack just held me in that moment as I released it all: the loss of Grandpa, the embarrassment of my failed relationship, the pain of my aunt’s insults. The rawness of my recent wounds spilled onto his shirt in streaks of warm tears. I didn’t have to say a single word, but he held me through it all. Just as he was my support on the beach during my darkest time after losing my parents all those years ago, he was my solace once again.

I cried myself to sleep in his arms that night. Even after all these years apart, I felt the most comfort wrapped in his embrace, breathing in his scent.