THIRTY-FOUR
Zeus
Nobody makes contact until the next day, and what’s worse is it’s not Belle who calls me, but Jodie.
“That was a stupid fucking thing to do, Z.”
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know.” I’ve replayed the scene over and over in my mind, coming up with a dozen other ways I could have steered John.
What else did I expect? Of course he’d be angry.
“I’m heading over later to try and throw some water over this goddamn volcano. Cerise is going off her rocker, and Belle is struggling to deal with it.”
“Why the fuck hasn’t she told me?” I ask.
“She doesn’t know what to say to you, Z. She’s got one hell of a case of the guilts.”
Fuck. None of this is her fault. I was the one who gave in, who overstepped the boundaries. Maybe what we have isn’t legally wrong, but I seriously ignored some moral standards by taking Belle as my own.
“Tell her to call me,” I beg. “I need to talk to her.”
The insomnia last night caused gave me time to think. I should have waited. I should have let Belle set down roots, move out of John’s and become a woman in her own time. I should have listened to my gut and let her go, let her experience life before she decided she really does want forever with me.
But the selfish fucker inside of me threw caution to the wind when he thought of the possibility of some other jackass coming along and stealing her away in the meantime. I went against my better instincts and threw fuel on an already uncontrollable fire, all because of a little jealousy.
“And here I thought I was the one who caused all the drama after our split.” Jodie chuckles, reminding me she’s still on the phone.
“Yeah, nah.” I chuckle also. “Couldn’t let you have the spotlight to yourself, could I?”
She makes a small “hmph,” letting the call hang.
“I’m sorry, Jodie.”
“What the fuck are you apologising for? I’m the one who was unfaithful.”
“For holding you back.” I rise out of my chair and head to the kitchen for a beer; this conversation calls for it. “We were over years ago, but I didn’t let you go when I should have.”
“You always were the optimist.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t go changing that,” she says. “It’s a good thing to have, Zeus.”
“Even so, I don’t think optimism is going to save me this time.”
“Time will tell. I’ll let you know the outcome after I’ve been over there.”
“Sure thing.” I disconnect and stand at the kitchen island as I take the first swallow of my lager.
I can’t look at this house now without thinking of Belle. My brain hurts every time I try to make heads or tails of the situation. My gut screams at me to let her go, to walk away from the damage I’ve done and let Belle and her old man sort things out between them. But the stubborn arsehole inside of me who never did care much for doing what’s right is determined to see this through to the end.
My gut says no. My heart says yes. And my conscience? Fuck—it’s rocking in the corner crying out for the room to stop spinning.
The condensation on the bottle makes a circle on the counter where I set my drink down. I snatch up my phone again and tap through to Belle’s number. Fuck waiting. I need to know where she stands. I need to hear her voice to help me make up my goddamn mind on this.
Do I push forward and risk hurting her in the process by alienating her from John? Or do I do what any real man should and admit when he’s fucked up and back off?
“Now isn’t the best time,” Belle whispers down the line.
“Who are you talking to?” Cerise’s nasally voice cuts in from the background.
“Kate.” Pause. “What time do you want to hit the shops? I thought if we got there…” The muted sounds of doors closing, and the wind as it cuts across the mouthpiece tell me she changes locations while she rambles. “Sorry. She’s on me like a goddamn hawk.”
“I’m so sorry, dove.”
“In all fairness, he did start it. But shit… you knocked him the hell out.”
“I know. It’s been a while.”
“You mean to tell me you’ve done that before?” She doesn’t sound the slightest bit amused.
“Once or twice.” I turn the beer in my hand, watching the condensation morph on the counter. “How are you?”
“Fucking confused.” That she sounds amused by.
“Makes two of us.”
“He’s never going to allow it. He came to and was still spitting tacks until he realised you’d left. Then he started into lecturing me about the logistics of it all, how you’d hold me back, and how I’d be giving up on my dreams. Blah, blah, blah.”
My conscience sits up and takes notice as my gut makes a “I told you so” gesture. John will never let it happen. He’ll make my life hell, in turn wrecking hers.
Take the sign for what it is, Zeus. I need to listen to my gut instinct on this. I need to let her go before I wreck things further. I should never have let her convince me to admit shit to John last night—I wasn’t ready. The resulting fallout just proves every doubt that I’ve ignored the past week.
Now isn’t the time for us. Just because you want something, doesn’t mean it’s right.
“He’s got a point.” I hold my breath, waiting on her reply.
“No, he hasn’t.” Her tone makes me think of her, fists at her side, as she stamps one foot.
I smile even though my heart dies. “He does. You want to travel—”
“I don’t have to.”
“And,” I say, cutting back in. “Despite the fact I can’t travel with you because of my parole conditions, we never fully discussed the whole ‘not being able to have kids’ thing.”
“I can deal with that.”
“You say now. But what about in five years? Ten?”
She falls silent, allowing the echo of my heart beating in my ears to take over. “Why are you doing this?”
Because it’s right. “I’m setting you free.”
“I’m not trapped.”
“You are,” I say. “You can’t see it, is all.” I wish that I couldn’t, either.
She expels a heavy breath, reminding me of John in that moment as her anger grows. “What about the studio next to your garage?”
“It’s not going anywhere.”
“Fuck, Zeus. Don’t do this over the phone.”
“Trust me, dove, I wish I wasn’t.” But I know I’d never be able to do it in person.
One look at her beautiful eyes, one glimpse of the pain I put there…
I give in and set the beer down, turning to slide down the cabinets and sit on the floor. Everything is Belle. Always Belle. “Maybe it’s not clear now, but trust me when I say that you’ll see that I’m doing the right thing in time.”
“Trust you,” she scoffs. “I trusted you not to break my heart, and yet here we are.”
“I haven’t stopped loving you.”
“But you don’t want me anymore. Why?”
“Because I’m no good for you. I’m a fucking ex-convict with no future other than laying bitumen, dove. I can’t offer you anything. All I can do is take and take until there’s only half of you left.” I sigh, frustrated that I can’t find the right words. “I’ve already driven a wedge between you and your dad. I’m not going to be responsible for ripping your family apart. What I want doesn’t matter, not when it means it’d ruin your life in the process. Go and be yourself for a while, find who you are when you’re not John’s daughter. Find your niche in the world, and then come back and show me what I invested in.”
“You aren’t investing in me though,” she sobs. “You’re tossing me aside.”
“I’m not. I’m making the ultimate sacrifice so that you won’t look back on this in years to come and resent me for smothering your dreams. I’m not doing this for me—I’m doing it for you.”
“How?”
“What will you do if I came over there and got your shit to move you in here?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. Get a job somewhere, anywhere.”
“And your dad? You’re willing to accept that he’d probably stop talking to you?”
She meets me with silence. I’m finally getting through.
“Letting you go will kill me, babe, but if it means you get to achieve everything you want in life, it’ll be worth it. Carrying this on? It’ll just hold you back.”
“You’re killing me too,” she whispers.
I have nothing. So instead I listen to the woman I love cry as she faces the harsh reality of our situation. Maybe this shit works out in movies, but this is real life. People have been hurt, trust has been broken. You don’t come back from that and watch a beautiful sunset as it casts a warm glow over the world you’ve created. You shiver in the cold while the battle fires still rage, the casualties of your selfish campaign strewn around like reminders of every bad decision you made.
“I love you, dove. I’ve always loved you and I don’t think that’ll ever change.”
“You just don’t love me enough,” she sniffles.
“I love you too much, and that’s why I have to walk away before I hurt anyone else.”