Page 49 of Friends That Heal Us
She lets out a sigh. “Zayn called my parents and told them we’re sleeping together and that we kicked him out of this house.”
My jaw tightens as shock sinks in. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What more does this asshole want?”
She goes on and tells me the entire conversation, and telling me the parts her dad would yell in the background makes me chuckle. He’s a good father in his reaction to this.
I can’t believe Zayn. He bulldozes through everything like his life depends on it. Doesn’t he have anything better to do than to keep destroying Violet’s life? Doesn’t he know that in the long run it’s going to destroy his too? He acts as if the world revolves around him. He’s a selfish prick.
“I also found an old bakery that has closed down. I don’t know how long it’s been there, but it looks like it’s been closed for a while,” she says with her eyes bright. Her voice rises slightly with excitement.
“Are you thinking of opening up your own bakery?”
“I’ve thought loosely about it. But when I saw that one, it made me think about it more. Until my excitement came crashing down.”
“Why did it come crashing down?”
“Because that’s when I got the phone call from my parents. Zayn ruins everything.”
“Don’t let it.” I reach out for her hand and hold it in mine.
She squeezes my hand tighter. “I know I shouldn’t, and I feel stupid for letting it happen. But every time I have a sliver of hope, he does something, and then the hope disappears fasterthan it came.” She pauses and lets out a breath. “And with how he’s acting right now, I wouldn’t doubt he would try to ruin it for me.”
“How would he know about it?”
“Look how petty he’s being.” She lifts her gaze towards me. “I wouldn’t put it past him to fight me on everything when we get a divorce. He’ll see it under my name and fight me for it.” Her jaw tightens in frustration.
That makes my chest twist and ache. I hear her voice lower with disappointment. The ache hits sharper than expected watching her excitement fade down. She deserves much more than this. She deserves to chase her dreams without him ruining it for her. I wish I could take this weight off of her. I wish I could take all the pain and disappointment away from her. If I can’t take it away, I at least can try to make things better for her.
I jerk awake with the familiar tingling and crawling sensation running up my legs. The discomfort makes me pull the covers off and swing my legs out of the bed. “Ugh.” I groan. Not this again. I hate this feeling. The urge I feel having to move to keep the discomfort away. I rub my legs and try to stretch them, hoping the feeling goes away without me having to walk all around the house until it stops because by then I’m wide awake and can’t fall back asleep.
The room is dark, but the light from the outside gives a little light to the room. I look over my shoulder and see Violet curled up on my bed. We talked all evening until sleep took us over.
I stare down at her, wishing and hoping I can go to sleep and wake up with her by my side every day.
I wiggle my legs and stand up from the bed, trying not to wake her up. I walk down the stairs and head for her kitchen in search of the magnesium she gave me last time. I’m not sure if it was the magnesium that worked or her massage. But I’m not waking her up to massage my feet. She needs her rest.
I look through her cupboards, but I come up with nothing. I swear it was in the kitchen because that’s where she was mixing it in a cup for me when I came down the stairs the last time. Did she run out? I let out a sigh and pace around the living room and kitchen.
After what feels like hours, which I’m sure only a couple of minutes have passed by, I sit on the couch not moving a muscle to see if the feeling has gone away. A sigh of relief passes through me when I feel no tingles until the discomfort comes roaring back.
“Fuck,” I groan.
I bend down and rub my calves, kneading the muscles. Moving up and down, in circles, and side to side. Every possible move to stop this.
“Ezra.”
My head shoots up and turns towards her voice.
“Did you get it again?”
“Yes,” I say in defeat. “I tried not to wake you. Go back to bed.”
“It’s okay.”
“I tried to look for the magnesium, but I couldn’t find it.”
“I’ll make some for you.”
I should watch where she’s getting it from, but I can’t sit up straight. I’m too focused on massaging my legs to get this feeling to go away.
