Unstoppable
Page 30
“I’m not wasting!” I protest. “I’ve just been taking it easy. Jeans and a sweatshirt are normal. Not all of us are glamorous French fashionistas now,” I add, teasing.
Zoey laughs. She looks like she just stepped off the pages of a fancy magazine, all glossy hair and red lipstick. She’s wearing a simple pair of jeans and a striped shirt, but it looks effortlessly elegant, like all the other stylish women I saw when I visited her in Paris. “I swear, they must put something in the water that gives you instant glamor points.” I give her a nudge.
“I wish it was so easy.” Zoey rolls her eyes. “The Dragon expects us all to be runway-ready. She gave me a dressing-down once in front of the entire office for daring to wear flats at work. Apparently anything under a three-inch heel is unacceptable!”
“Ouch,” I laugh. “Well, you’re safe now. This is a no-heels zone. Just sneakers and flip-flops. Boots if you really want to go crazy.”
“I love it,” Zoey grins. “So, come on, show me around. I want to see everything. Tell me Dex has a hot tub!”
I show Zoey around the house, and then she insists on seeing Beachwood Bay in all its small-town glory, so I take her to Mrs. Olsen’s for breakfast. She falls on the plates of pancakes and bacon like she hasn’t seen carbs in a month.
“Oh my god,” Zoey moans, shoving two pieces of bacon in her mouth. “You’ve no idea how much I miss real food. It’s all fromage this and petit fours the other. I’d kill to get a real burger.”
“Tough break,” I tease. “Go cry into your amazing pastries.”
Zoey laughs. “OK, I know, but I get homesick. It’s a long way away.”
“How long are you here for, anyway?” I ask, wrapping my hands around my coffee mug.
“Just a couple of days,” Zoey replies, pouring an ocean of syrup over her plate and then licking her sticky fingertips.
“But why? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” I add, confused. “But it’s like, a ten-hour flight, plus the drive…”
Zoey looks up, her smile softening with sympathy. “It’s OK. I know you said you wanted your space, but I wasn’t going to leave you alone here. Not today.”
I stare at her, not understanding. Zoey’s forehead knits in a frown. “It’s the twenty-second,” she adds carefully.
Her words pierce through me. My blood runs cold.
“I forgot,” I whisper, horrified. “Oh my god. How could I forget?”
Connor’s birthday.
Zoey sees my distress. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Hey, it’s OK. It’s a good thing.”
But I shake my head. “No. I’m a terrible person. I can’t believe I forgot!”
Guilt crashes over me. Connor. He would have been twenty-five today. How could it just slip my mind like this? The date should be branded into my memory. Instead, I’m acting like he never meant a thing to me—too concerned with Ryland and our brief flirtation to think about what really matters. The man I loved, once upon a time.
The man I lost.
Zoey looks at me, concerned. “I shouldn’t have come, should I? I’m sorry, I made everything worse reminding you.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” I tell her.
It’s all mine.
I gaze blankly out of the window. Connor’s birthdays were always a big deal to us, I loved planning special surprises for him. Like the year I managed to get his favorite drummer to sign a vinyl record for him, or when we road-tripped up the coast to San Francisco, staying in kitschy B&Bs.
Last year was different. The end was coming, we were already falling apart, but I still didn’t know why. I planned us a whole day of fun activities, trying to make things perfect again, but Connor didn’t show. I called all day, getting more and more frantic, until I finally tracked him down, up in some house in the Hills, lazing around the pool with a bunch of groupie hangers-on, getting wasted. I should have walked away right then, but Connor was full of apologies and remorse. He lost track of time. He just needed to unwind. He would make it up to me.
I know, I should never have believed him. By then, his excuses were wearing thin, but there was still a part of me clinging to the memory of the good times. I needed to believe him, to trust that he still loved me, after all. Because the thought of losing him was worse than any momentary fight. He’d become my whole world, my gravity, my true North. Without him, I couldn’t imagine what life would be, so I took those crumbs of affection, the brief flashes of normalcy, and held on for dear life.
Connor was a charmer, alright. He could make me forget the bad times in a heartbeat.
Until there was no escaping the truth.
“Well, I’m here now.” Zoey’s voice breaks through my memories, bright and upbeat. The diner is quiet around us, just a few regulars nursing coffee and stacked plates. Zoey signals for the check. “We have forty-eight whole hours until I catch the red-eye back. So, what do you want to do?”
I shrug, still distracted by the heaviness weighing on my chest. Grief and guilt, a bitter mix. “I don’t mind.”
Zoey rolls her eyes. “Come on. I say we make it a girl’s day. Pool, beach, home spa treatment, crappy movies…” She smiles, enthusiastic. “It’ll be just like high school!”
I crack a smile. Zoey could always find a way to distract me. “You mean the time Mrs Wilkins found us watching Sex and the City and gave us detention for a month?”
Zoey laughs. She looks like she just stepped off the pages of a fancy magazine, all glossy hair and red lipstick. She’s wearing a simple pair of jeans and a striped shirt, but it looks effortlessly elegant, like all the other stylish women I saw when I visited her in Paris. “I swear, they must put something in the water that gives you instant glamor points.” I give her a nudge.
“I wish it was so easy.” Zoey rolls her eyes. “The Dragon expects us all to be runway-ready. She gave me a dressing-down once in front of the entire office for daring to wear flats at work. Apparently anything under a three-inch heel is unacceptable!”
“Ouch,” I laugh. “Well, you’re safe now. This is a no-heels zone. Just sneakers and flip-flops. Boots if you really want to go crazy.”
“I love it,” Zoey grins. “So, come on, show me around. I want to see everything. Tell me Dex has a hot tub!”
I show Zoey around the house, and then she insists on seeing Beachwood Bay in all its small-town glory, so I take her to Mrs. Olsen’s for breakfast. She falls on the plates of pancakes and bacon like she hasn’t seen carbs in a month.
“Oh my god,” Zoey moans, shoving two pieces of bacon in her mouth. “You’ve no idea how much I miss real food. It’s all fromage this and petit fours the other. I’d kill to get a real burger.”
“Tough break,” I tease. “Go cry into your amazing pastries.”
Zoey laughs. “OK, I know, but I get homesick. It’s a long way away.”
“How long are you here for, anyway?” I ask, wrapping my hands around my coffee mug.
“Just a couple of days,” Zoey replies, pouring an ocean of syrup over her plate and then licking her sticky fingertips.
“But why? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” I add, confused. “But it’s like, a ten-hour flight, plus the drive…”
Zoey looks up, her smile softening with sympathy. “It’s OK. I know you said you wanted your space, but I wasn’t going to leave you alone here. Not today.”
I stare at her, not understanding. Zoey’s forehead knits in a frown. “It’s the twenty-second,” she adds carefully.
Her words pierce through me. My blood runs cold.
“I forgot,” I whisper, horrified. “Oh my god. How could I forget?”
Connor’s birthday.
Zoey sees my distress. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Hey, it’s OK. It’s a good thing.”
But I shake my head. “No. I’m a terrible person. I can’t believe I forgot!”
Guilt crashes over me. Connor. He would have been twenty-five today. How could it just slip my mind like this? The date should be branded into my memory. Instead, I’m acting like he never meant a thing to me—too concerned with Ryland and our brief flirtation to think about what really matters. The man I loved, once upon a time.
The man I lost.
Zoey looks at me, concerned. “I shouldn’t have come, should I? I’m sorry, I made everything worse reminding you.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” I tell her.
It’s all mine.
I gaze blankly out of the window. Connor’s birthdays were always a big deal to us, I loved planning special surprises for him. Like the year I managed to get his favorite drummer to sign a vinyl record for him, or when we road-tripped up the coast to San Francisco, staying in kitschy B&Bs.
Last year was different. The end was coming, we were already falling apart, but I still didn’t know why. I planned us a whole day of fun activities, trying to make things perfect again, but Connor didn’t show. I called all day, getting more and more frantic, until I finally tracked him down, up in some house in the Hills, lazing around the pool with a bunch of groupie hangers-on, getting wasted. I should have walked away right then, but Connor was full of apologies and remorse. He lost track of time. He just needed to unwind. He would make it up to me.
I know, I should never have believed him. By then, his excuses were wearing thin, but there was still a part of me clinging to the memory of the good times. I needed to believe him, to trust that he still loved me, after all. Because the thought of losing him was worse than any momentary fight. He’d become my whole world, my gravity, my true North. Without him, I couldn’t imagine what life would be, so I took those crumbs of affection, the brief flashes of normalcy, and held on for dear life.
Connor was a charmer, alright. He could make me forget the bad times in a heartbeat.
Until there was no escaping the truth.
“Well, I’m here now.” Zoey’s voice breaks through my memories, bright and upbeat. The diner is quiet around us, just a few regulars nursing coffee and stacked plates. Zoey signals for the check. “We have forty-eight whole hours until I catch the red-eye back. So, what do you want to do?”
I shrug, still distracted by the heaviness weighing on my chest. Grief and guilt, a bitter mix. “I don’t mind.”
Zoey rolls her eyes. “Come on. I say we make it a girl’s day. Pool, beach, home spa treatment, crappy movies…” She smiles, enthusiastic. “It’ll be just like high school!”
I crack a smile. Zoey could always find a way to distract me. “You mean the time Mrs Wilkins found us watching Sex and the City and gave us detention for a month?”
