Chapter Thirteen
Zack
The last thing I want to deal with right now is this lunch with Rachel. My head is all over the place and I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with this charade for much longer. Rachel phoned me this morning to say she had booked us a table at one of the finest restaurants as a surprise. I tried to get out of it but she wouldn’t let me, I caved in the end and agreed to pick her up.
“Do you know what you’re having?” She asks, forcing me out of my reverie.
“Erm… no, not yet. I’m not really bothered what we have to be honest.” I glance at the menu before tossing it aside.
“You could try and be a little more enthusiastic.” She grumbles, tracing a perfectly manicured fingernail across the table cloth.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night and you know how grumpy I get when I done get my eight hours.”
“Maybe you should try spending the night in the same bed as your fiancé for a change.” She practically purrs, her eyes sparkling with mischief and playfulness.
“You know I don’t feel comfortable staying under the same roof as your mum.” I quip sharply.
“Why not?”
“It just wouldn’t feel right.”
“Fucking me wouldn’t feel right?” She smiles flirtatiously, stroking her foot up the length of my inside leg under the table.
Her sensual touch stirs something deep inside of me and I almost feel… guilty about it. I shake my head slightly, trying to snap myself out of it. Why the fuck should I feel guilty about my own fiancé touching me? Samantha’s face suddenly appears in my subconscious, her gorgeous green eyes, blonde hair and unbelievably sexy little mouth. God, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her again, to feel her body underneath mine and to hear her moan my name, begging me for more as I slide my cock all the way inside her…
“Zack? Did you hear what I said?” Rachel’s voice vigorously yanks me back to my reality, forcing me to accept the fact that she’s the one I’m with right now and not the girl I really want.
“Uh… yeah. Sorry, say it again.” I murmur, trying to ease some of the pressure by rubbing my forehead wearily.
“I asked you why fucking me wouldn’t feel right.” She says coldly, narrowing her eyes at me in speculation.
“I didn’t say that. What I said was I didn’t want to stay with you when your mum is there.”
“Why not?” She furrows her brow whilst attempting to attract the attention of the nearby waitress. “Zack, you’re not even making any sense.”
“The way your mum treats Samantha isn’t right. It makes me uncomfortable and what makes me even more uneasy is the way you just seem to allow it.” I argue, clenching my fists underneath the table.
“Look, it’s complicated. My mum and Samantha have never had the easiest relationship. Sam was always closest to our dad and it hurt her the most when he died.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the way that your mother treats her. It seriously pisses me off and I’m going to be forced to say something to her if I see her doing it in front of me again.” I say bitterly, meaning every word.
“No! You can’t do that Zack. It would cause so much trouble and Samantha wouldn’t thank you for it.” Rachel assures me.
“Why not?” I challenge her, glaring across the table.
“Because it would only make things worse for her.”
“I don’t see how that’s even possible. Your whole family’s behaviour is abhorrent. It makes me feel sick to watch.”
There’s a momentary silence between us while I wait for her response. I know there’s something else she wants to tell me, something she thinks she shouldn’t.
“Sam has had her fair share of troubles. She’s not your average twenty-three year old.” She finally admits, fumbling anxiously with the tablecloth in front of her.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Look, can we discuss this later?” She asks, trying to deter me.
“No. We can discuss it now.” I say firmly.
“Sam has… some problems.”
“What sort of problems?” I inquire, needing her to elaborate.
My mind is already racing with possibilities and every single one of them is unpleasant.
“She suffers from anxiety and she always has done, ever when we were kids. She’s a little more reserved than most people, she’s a little shy and somewhat of a loner. Some really bad things have happened to her. First she lost our dad, who she was unbelievably close to and then…” She trails off, leaving her sentence unfinished and my questions unanswered.
“Then what?” I lean forward, resembling what can only be described as an interrogation.
“She got pregnant.” She lowers her voice and glances around the restaurant, making sure no one can hear us.
“S-She what…?” I stammer, unable to process what I just heard
“It happened when she was eighteen. God, when I remember what she was like… she was so poorly, Zack. I was so worried about her, she came extraordinarily close to a full on nervous breakdown. It was a really dark and frightening time for her and for me as well because I had to watch my little sister go through it all.”
“What about the father? Where the hell was he in all of this?” I snap, raising my voice as I feel myself start to lose my temper.
“He didn’t even know. Sam didn’t tell him about the baby until it was too late.” She murmurs, staring out the window behind me, completely lost in thought.
“Too late? You mean she lost the baby?”
God, I can’t even imagine the pain she must have gone through if she had a miscarriage. It makes me want to go and see her this instant, take her in my arms and promise she will never have to go through anything like that ever again.
“Zack, she had an abortion.”
Silence follows as I try to process the words she just said to me. Rachel’s admittance has left me utterly astounded and I continue to gape at her in astonishment for several seconds before I finally stumble across my ability to speak.
“Wow… I don’t even know what to say.” I rub my forehead again, trying to ease some of the tension I feel building up. “She actually had to go through all of that by herself without any support from your mum or the baby’s father?” I say incredulously.
“I was there for her as much as I could be but I guess she was all alone in a sense.” Rachel explains.
“Jesus, I can’t even imagine how difficult and heart-breaking that must have been for her to make that decision.” I groan, raking my fingers through my hair in anguish.
Just thinking about how much she must have suffered… it drives me fucking crazy, especially when I know that she had no one there for her besides Rachel.
“She’s never fully recovered from it and I can’t say that I blame her. It’s like a part of her died when she had that termination, a part of her that will probably never come back.”
“Is that the reason she’s not with someone now?”
“She wasn’t even in a relationship with Paul, the baby’s father. She told him afterwards and he didn’t take it that well, he was really angry with her and blamed her for going through with the abortion without telling him. He treated her really badly and refused to understand her side of the situation. She crossed paths with him again one year later and he was really cruel to her, I think he completely blanked her which left her feeling ignored and humiliated. Paul was killed that night, there was a fight he got involved in and someone stabbed him.”
“Jesus…” I exclaim loudly, unable to believe the amount of pain Samantha has experienced.
“His whole family and the majority of Paul’s friends blamed Sam for what happened.”
“Why the hell would they blame her?” I practically growl, literally seething with fury. “His death had absolutely nothing to do with her.”
“They blamed her because seeing Samantha is apparently what made Paul so angry that day, so mad that all he wanted to do was go out and get wasted later on that night.”
“What the fuck?!” I yell, slamming my fist down on the table. “That’s bull shit!”
“Zack, keep it down! We still have to order our food and I’m not going to spend the rest of my meal being stared at.” She cringes, turning pink with embarrassment.
“I couldn’t eat a single thing right now.” I reply coldly.
The sound of Rachel’s phone interrupts us and she reaches for it, completely bewildered by my response and change in attitude.
“Wow…” She glances at her phone’s screen, taking a moment to read through her message before resting it back down on the table.
“Who was that?”
“Sam.” She says calmly, acting like it’s no big deal.
“Samantha? Is she ok? What did she say?”
I try so hard to keep the enthusiasm from creeping into my voice but it is really, really hard. I haven’t heard a thing from Samantha since she hung up on me yesterday morning when I called her. I desperately wanted to call her back and fought the urge to do it all day. I knew I had to respect her wishes and give her some space.
“I can hardly believe it but she actually just sent me a text to let me know that she’s decided to go away for a few days. She said she spontaneously chose to take some time off work so she could get away.”
“She what? She’s left?” I stammer, fighting the overwhelming impulse I have to grab the phone off Rachel and read her message for myself.
“Just for a few days, she said she’ll be back by the end of the week. She didn’t say where she’s staying.” She replies smoothly, infuriating me even further by her lack of concern.
“Has she gone alone?” I ask, battling against the need I have to demand if Jason is with her.
“I don’t know, maybe Jason decided to go with her.” She answers, shrugging her shoulders in a carless manner.
“Come on, I think we should go.” I jump out of my seat, taking her and the whole restraint by surprise.
“You can’t be serious?” She gapes up at me in confusion, completely bewildered by my attitude and decision to walk out.
“I am. Grab your purse, I want to get the hell out of here.”
I’m out in the car park by the time she catches up with me, struggling to keep up with my powerful stride in her high heels.
“Zack, what is the matter with you? You have to talk to me!”
I whirl around to face her, forcing her to come to an abrupt standstill as we almost collide.
“You really think I want to sit down and enjoy a nice meal after everything you’ve just told me?!”
“Yes! Why shouldn’t you? Why would something about my sister upset you in this way?”
I recognise the flash of jealousy in her eyes and it’s the first time I’ve ever witnessed it in Rachel.
“Because she’s your sister and she’s going to be a part of my family once we’re married. Would you prefer it if I didn’t care at all?” I challenge her, ignoring the inquisitive nature of the people who are gawping at us as they leave the restaurant.
“No. I wouldn’t.” She hangs her head in shame, causing me to feel guilty.
She has no idea. She has absolutely no idea about how I feel and what makes it worse is the fact that she believed me when I lied to her face.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
We spend the rest of the journey home in silence. She doesn’t ask me if I want to come inside when I drop her off and I don’t give her a kiss goodbye. I drive home at a ridiculous speed, hoping that the blur of ongoing traffic and the adrenaline coursing through my veins will be enough to help numb this excruciating feeling. The same one that weighs heavily on my chest, the one that makes my heart race and my head want to explode.
I can’t believe she really left. I can’t believe I don’t know where she is and I still can’t fucking believe this is really happening to me. How did I actually let this happen? My head has never felt so messed up before now. I’m the sort of guy who is always in control, I know where I’m heading and never, ever lose sense of reality. I’ve dated some beautiful women and none of them have been as beautiful as Rachel, that’s why I don’t understand this unbeatable obsession I have with Samantha.
The thought of her forces me to tighten the firm grip I already have on the steering wheel. Why can’t I get her face out of my head? Why won’t my need for her disappear? What the hell am I going to do about it? I groan loudly, pounding my fists against the wheel. It’s a miracle I don’t crash and for one crazy, dark and twisted moment I actually consider it.
I shake my head, banishing such thoughts. It would solve nothing and it would only bring more heartache. I still wouldn’t get Samantha and it would destroy Rachel.
It would destroy her if you left. My subconscious taunts me, a reminder of what would happen if I were to put an end to our engagement. The humiliation would be unbearable and there would be a lot of speculation over the reasoning behind it. God, am I seriously considering this? Am I really thinking about calling the whole thing off? Would Samantha thank me for it? Would she be grateful or would it make her hate me even more? She runs away from me every single time I reach out for her and I don’t know how I can convince her about how I really feel.
I turn on the radio, anxious to quieten the disturbing thoughts racing through my head. ‘Waves’ by Mr. Probz is the first thing I hear and it transports me right back to the very first night that I met her. It was the song I was listening to after I dropped Samantha home that first night. I can remember everything about the evening that Rachel and I announced our engagement, every single detail about the gathering I was forced to attend at her mum’s house. It’s still so vivid to me, the miniscule details that I otherwise might have forgotten. Remember it all because that was the first night that I met her. The night I met Sam.
I didn’t understand what was happening to me that night and I still don’t have a clue. All I do know is that I need her, I need her like I’ve never needed anybody in my whole life. I have completely fallen for her and if I’m being entirely honest with myself… I know I love her.
The remaining problem is, how do I convince her? How do I persuade her that she doesn’t have to deny what she feels for me?
I return home determined and decided. I know what I want and all I want is Samantha. I am not a man who fails, I usually get what I want and what I want is her. I refuse to give up on her and I will do everything in my power to make her mine. No one else even comes close, not even my fiancé. The girl I proposed to is the wrong girl and I’m entirely clueless when it comes to what to do about it.