I was surprised when the door opened again not long after. I was silent as I watched him shed his coat and join me on the sofa. Reaching out, he pulled me onto his lap, holding me tight as I gathered the blanket around us both. The tension in his body began to dissipate. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“I shouldn’t have said all that and walked away again. I know you have questions. I needed to clear my head, though.”
“I understand.”
A shaky sigh escaped him. “I needed to hold you. I needed to know you’re for real.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His arms tightened and I snuggled deeper into his warmth. Minutes passed as we drew comfort from one another.
Slowly, my shaking stopped and I drew back. He looked so drawn and weary, his eyes dull and flat. “We don’t have to talk anymore today.”
“I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I want to finish it.” His hands cupped the back of my head, restlessly stroking my skin. “Help me finish it, Megan.”
I nodded, understanding he needed my questions again.
“Can you tell me what happened…after?”
Gently, he lifted me off his lap and got up, once again on edge. As if sensing the growing tension in the room, the dogs crept away, heading for the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if Zachary even noticed them leaving.
“I only know what I was told.” He frowned. “I was out for a while. They weaned me off the drugs gradually, letting my periods of consciousness become longer, until I was lucid enough to understand what had happened. That Marni had done that for revenge. She had a total break from reality—Ryan told me she laughed as she watched me burn.”
My stomach heaved as I listened. I wanted to get up and wrap him in my arms as he spoke, finally letting the memories that had festered and raged inside, out into the open. I knew, though, if I touched him right now he would shut down. I had to sit and let him talk, yell, scream…whatever it took.
“She died that day?”
“Yes. In the chaos she ran to her trailer and locked herself in. She, ah, shot herself. Besides the alcohol there were drugs in her system. She knew what she was going to do; she knew she was going to set me on fire, then kill herself.” His eyes were filled with guilt. “I did that to her. Ryan told me she was unstable. He warned me she had a history of nervous breakdowns and she’d even attempted suicide once. She did a few strange things that should have set off alarm bells in my head, but as usual, I blocked them out. I remember waking up one night, finding her in my room, just staring at me—she had somehow got a copy of my key. Another time I found her going through my stuff, taking little things she thought I wouldn’t miss. I chalked it up to her quirkiness instead of seeing the truth.” He shook his head. “When I told Ryan he warned me again, but in my usual selfish way, I ignored him and did what I wanted. Took what I wanted. Only this time I paid a price. We both did.”
“She made the decision to hurt you.”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t in her right mind. I pushed her over the edge with my cruelty.”
Remembering his words from the other day, I cleared my throat. “You don’t think you deserved what happened, do you?”
“No.” He sighed. “Not most of the time, but at others, I think maybe I did.”
I shook my head furiously. “No. Nobody deserves that to happen to them. Ever.”
“What I did—”
“—was wrong. You were cruel. You were also only human; you made a huge error in judgment. She could have done a dozen things to show her displeasure. She was obviously sick, Zachary.”
“I should have seen that more plainly, though.”
“No. You weren’t capable of seeing another person’s suffering at the time.”
“So you forgive me for what I did? So easily?”
I frowned at him. “It’s not my place to forgive you. You need to forgive yourself. You need to forgive her.”
He was motionless as he contemplated my words. “I forgave her a long time ago. I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself completely.”
“Only you have that power,” I reminded him gently.
“I know.”
Nothing I could say would change how he felt. Nothing would change for him until he was ready, so I let it go for now.
“How did you end up here?”
The tension returned to his shoulders and he started moving around the room again, touching things, once again lost in thought. Absently, he picked up a small sculpture, his thumb tracing over the smooth glass.
“One day I was an actor—everyone wanted a piece of me. I thought I had everything: looks, money, a life most would envy—my whole future laid out before me. People to do anything I told them to do, women falling over me. I knew I was a complete and utter asshole, but I didn’t care. They didn’t care.” He stopped pacing and looked out the window.