“Krane, you really need to be eating more,” my mom says as she fills my plate with a bountiful helping of eggs.

I look down at the yellow slimy mess and know she’s right. But I lose my appetite when the reason why I haven’t been eating much hits me.

“I’ve been eating, Mom, I promise.”

She puts the pan in the sink and looks at me, leaning over the breakfast bar. “Your dad told me you guys got into it. We’re both worried about you, baby.” I set my fork on the ceramic plate and look her in the eye. “You need to talk about what happened,” she pleads.

“What do you want me to say, Mom?” I ask her completely frustrated. “Zoë died in my arms and I couldn’t do a damn thing to save her. Without her, I don’t care about my life, bottom-fucking-line. I can’t just get over that like everyone else wants me to. Every time I close my eyes, I’m haunted by those visions.”

Tears gloss over my mom’s eyes. I haven’t spoken about what happened to Zoë except to the cops on the night that she passed. Revisiting the events breaks me and I’m about to lose control. Leaning into my mom, I kiss her forehead holding on to the back of her head and then flee her house.

I can’t do this.

She sobs as I leave her and I feel terrible, but there’s nothing more that can be said. I’m tired of other people telling me how to be, how to move on. This is my life and I’ll fuckin’ handle it the way that I need to. Driving home, I’m agitated, lost. My mind is haunted with horrific images of the worst day of my life, and somehow I end up at Ivy’s work.

Staring out the window, I’m not sure why I am here, or how she can help. But I know she won’t judge me. The feelings inside of me right now are fucked up and she’s the only one that gets my pain. Sending her a text I ask, Can you take a quick break and come outside?

She doesn’t respond and I feel like it’s wrong of me to burden her with my problems when she’s working. This has all been so hard on her as well. It’s been tough for her to even come back to work. Putting my truck in reverse, I look around me before backing out and she is walking out of the building. I stop right away, putting the vehicle in park and unlock the doors.

She hops in and looks exhausted. “You okay?” she asks, worrying about me immediately.

I run my hands over my face and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Just breathe,” she says using my own words.

I stop what I’m doing and look at her out of the corner of my eye. I give her a small smile and say, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Ivy. I get up every day and try to find a purpose for why I am here, but…” I trail off, anguished with the current mental state that I am in.

“Krane, it’s not your job to figure out why you’re here and Zoë isn’t. You have to believe that it was her time.” She rests her head back, her soft hair blowing from the air conditioner.

God, she is so strong. “How do you keep going on like you do?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. I stayed in bed for over a month and was about to lose my job. Work keeps me busy, a good distraction, I guess. Have you thought about going back to the city and training with Logan?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “Without Zoë, I don’t think that I can go back to my old life.”

She reaches for my hand and grabs it, resting both of our hands on my thigh. “You need to start healing, for Zoë. She wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

I nod, acknowledging her words, but not having a clue how to do that. “Let’s work out tonight. We can go to the gym at my apartment and just do a light workout. Maybe it’ll help clear your mind.”

I agree, for some God unknown reason. A social workout is the last thing I want. Oblivion is the only thing calling my name. But maybe being around Ivy reminds me of Zoë in a good way. Or maybe I’m just too fucked up to make a decision on my own right now.

“Good, I’m off at seven. Now, go home and nap; you look exhausted,” she says.

I nod my head and hug her as she leans over, the warmth of her body so soothing. “I’ll text you,” she says and I watch her get out of my car. She’s wearing tight pants and my eyes follow her ass as she’s walking away.

Heading home, I’m shredded by guilt from staring at Ivy’s ass, defiling her memory for noticing any ass not Zoë’s, knowing she’d have my head on a fucking platter for checking out another chick, and probably take my head off that platter and run it through a meat grinder for it being her sister’s. And then a bolt of agony shoots through me…all I want is Zoë. So much. So I stop to pick up a bottle of tequila to numb the pain and the shame. It’s not the right thing to do…but right now, nothing that I’m doing is right.

Getting back to my car, I hear my name being called from behind me. “Krane, wait up, man.”

I turn to see Rod, an old friend of mine that I partied with a ton before things with Zoë got serious and haven’t really seen much since, but he knows all of what went down. “How the fuck are you?” he asks. “You holding up okay?” There is a genuine smile on his face, which is unlike Rod’s egotistical self.

Looking down at the pavement, I kick the gravel frustrated, knowing it’s better to just lie to him and tell him that I’m fine than to tell him how I really am. “You good, bro?”

“Yeah,” I feign, not able to bring myself to look at him.

“Good! I’m glad I ran into you. I know you’re going through a lot, but I wanted to invite you to a little get together at my place tonight. I’d love to hang out again and catch up. Like the old days.”

I nod my head, picturing the nights that ended in blackout and nothingness we used to have together. “Yeah, man, for sure.”

“Great, six o’clock?”

I agree and watch him jog back to his Mercedes. It’s been years since we’ve hung out. Zoë hated Rod. He was a bad influence on me for sure. He always had sick ass parties and there was sure to be more than just booze there. Looking down at the handle of tequila I’m holding, something more might be just what I need right now.