I slumped against the glass. The air I’d been holding in escaped, a deep sigh fogging up the window. Using my sleeve, I wiped away the dampness on both the glass and my cheeks. He didn’t even look toward the house. He didn’t come to check up on me to see if I was okay. He had closed himself off again.
He chose when I would leave and he pushed me away.
Grimacing, I wiped away the last of my tears. I was so tired, but I had to go and do some errands. Once more, I had to move forward.
Alone.* * *It was a huge effort to walk around the small town, picking up the few things I needed, and smile back at the friendly clerks as they wished me a good day. Karen was right and the pharmacist was very helpful; I now had some medication in case of another headache. The one I had I knew was from my overwrought emotions and lack of sleep. The drive back seemed endless and it took all my willpower not to continue up the road to Zachary’s place.
After unpacking my things, I took Dixie on another walk, letting her run on the empty beach. Part of me hoped Zachary would hear us and Elliott would come out to run with her; and even more so, I hoped he would appear, but there was no sign of either of them. The studio was in darkness and there was nothing to indicate he was inside. I knew he sometimes went elsewhere to paint or sketch—maybe he wasn’t home—or perhaps asleep. His studio light had burned all night; and he once told me sometimes he painted all night then slept all day.
I sighed, wondering if maybe he was looking out his window, watching us, regretting the day I ever walked into his life, wishing I would leave, so he could return to his completely private life.
The thought of him being alone and isolated made my chest ache with sadness.
He was too full of life to cut himself off again. He didn’t see it, but he had so much to offer, so much to give if he allowed himself the opportunity.
With one last glance, I turned and headed back to the house. I could feel the storm closing in, and Dixie and I needed to be safe when it hit. I scooped her up, holding her close as we made our way back to the house. “We’ll make some popcorn and have a quiet evening, then go to bed early, okay girl? Maybe we’ll watch a movie, just you and me, like old times.”
I refused to think about how much cozier it had been when it was the four of us together and I was curled up beside Zachary watching a movie and eating popcorn.* * *Furious hammering on the door woke me from my restless drug-induced sleep on the sofa. I sat up in the darkness, blinking and confused, unsure of the time. My heart pounded in my chest as hope flared, wanting it to be Zachary who woke me, yet panicked it might not be him. Dixie whimpered from the end of the sofa where she’d been sleeping, and I put my hand out to soothe her. Rain was beating down on the roof and lightning streaked across the sky, silhouetting the shadow that stood outside the doors, as the beating resumed. Warily, I snapped on the light and pulled back the curtains to reveal Zachary’s ravaged face pressed against the window. Sliding the door open, I backed up as he stepped inside. He was soaking wet, rain rolling off his broad shoulders, causing the water to puddle around his feet. His hair was plastered to his head, black and gleaming in the light. His eyes were dark and stormy like the waves that pounded on the sand outside.
Silently, we stared at each other. His chest heaved with his gasping breaths and I found my own breathing picking up as he gazed at me, a myriad of emotions flowing in his eyes, his mouth drawn tight. His body was rigid; rage and fear rolling off him, his hands fisted at his sides. I was powerless to move in the face of his pain. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I’m a fucking idiot and I’m so very sorry, Megan.”
Relief punched through my chest, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. He was here. He was apologizing.
“I only wanted to help.”
“I know. I didn’t mean it. Tell me you know that.” He caught my hand and placed it on his chest. “Tell me you can forgive me.”
Overwhelmed at his plea, I could only nod.
“I can’t stay away from you. I’ve tried all day to resist it, but all I could think about was you. How you looked at me yesterday, Megan.” His lips brushed over my shaking hand, his voice softening. “How do you say so much with those eyes of yours? How do you affect me so fucking deeply?”