Chapter Twenty-Four
Standing over the sink Zane thought he was about to throw up. There was a fierce burning in his throat. Thankfully he hadn’t risen to the bait and punched Matt. It had been a long time since he’d hit someone. Five years, in fact.
He remembered it clearly. He remembered his mum yelling at him to stop. He remembered getting out of there, scrambling for the door handle, horrified at what he’d done. He remembered finding a pub and getting so drunk he hadn’t even been able to use his mobile to call Becca and James to come and get him. The landlord had rung them for him at way past closing time.
Leaning back against the counter he closed his eyes. He was furious with himself. Furious for what he’d almost done thirty minutes ago when he’d almost hit out at Matt, furious for what he’d done five years ago, and furious for what he was about to do – end things with Faith.
Opening and closing kitchen cupboards he eventually found a bottle of brandy at the back of one of them. He hated brandy, but had been given this bottle as a gift by the man who used to run the Centre and he’d shoved it in a cupboard in case anyone else wanted to drink it. He grabbed a glass and headed for the sofa.
Filling it to the brim he gulped as much back in one go as he could, the heat burning his throat. Right now he didn’t care what he was drinking, just so long as it was something to try to make his brain stop thinking.
Someone was lying to him. And that someone was either his best friend or the woman he loved.
He was fairly certain that it was Matt who was lying, but even so, Matt’s words had planted a tiny seed of doubt about Faith. And that seed was now flourishing, taking hold, forming into an excuse to end things with her, to escape from a relationship that was the best he’d ever had.
Coward. That was what Matt had called him. And the worst thing was that he was right. Zane was finding excuses to get out of his relationship with Faith because he was a coward. Because he couldn’t face up to what those two words had meant when they had flown into his head out of nowhere while he was with Faith on the camping trip.
He poured more brandy into the glass and gulped it back. His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his trouser pocket. A voice message from Faith. He clicked play and listened as her soft voice asked what time he thought he’d be going round to her place tonight with the promised take-away.
She was waiting for him. Pizza and a DVD, cuddled up together on the sofa.
Zane listened to Faith’s message again. Whether she was lying to him or not, he couldn’t just ignore her. He selected her number from the call list and waited, hoping it would go to her voicemail. At this time of day she should be busy clearing up and closing the café for the day.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Any second, he figured, he hoped, the voicemail would cut in.
“Hey, Zane!”
Faith. Great. “Faith, look, I’m sorry but there’s a problem at the Centre and—”
“You’re going to be late,” Faith chipped in. “No worries. It will give me time to have a relaxing bath. Then I can cook up something for us to eat instead of you getting a take-away.”
Zane swallowed.
Stick to the plan. Say what you have to, then get off the phone before you end up agreeing to call round later.
“Sorry. I’m not going to be able to make it at all.” He knew he was talking too fast, rushing to get said what he needed to. “You know how it is. I can’t leave Matt in charge for five minutes without him messing things up.”
“It’s nothing serious is it?” He could hear the concern in her voice. “Do you want me to come up there and lend a hand with anything?”
“No. It’s nothing serious. Just some stuff I need to sort, and it has to be tonight.”
“Oh. OK.”
Was that disappointment or surprise he detected in her voice? Possibly both. Surprise because he’d bailed on their plans. Disappointment because she would have been looking forward to the night as much as he had.
“I’ll ring you soon, OK?” he said. “Got to go.”
He switched his phone off and threw it across the room. It hit the coats hanging on the wooden pegs near the front door, bounced off and landed on the floor.
Leaning forward he put his empty glass on the coffee table, propped his elbows on his knees and hid his face with his hands, trying to get himself to calm down. It didn’t work. Reaching for the bottle he refilled his glass again and slumped back on the settee. He’d made the mistake and now he was paying for it. He’d allowed love into his life again, and allowed himself to take the risk.
With Faith he’d felt as though he was in some kind of paradise. She’d made him feel alive and stupidly in love. Made him feel as though he could do this. Made him feel that this time, at last, it would all be OK.
Until now.
He would have to make a decision about what he was going to do. It wasn’t fair to just leave things between them in some kind of no-man’s-land. He should never have let things go so far.