Page 48 of Friends That Heal Us
“Are you sure?” Dad yells over the phone.
“Yes, Dad. You two enjoy your retirement. I’m fine. Really. Ezra has really been there for me.”
“He was always such a good kid,” Dad says.
My mind swirls with confusion, and before I think, I blurt out. “Did you two always know Zayn was a piece of shit?”
Silence erupts over the phone. My dad must have stopped shuffling his feet, and my mom is speechless.
“He wasn’t always bad. At times, we did question him. And you two,” my mom says softly, and in a tone I know she’s using to try not to hurt my feelings.
What? Why am I only hearing about this now? The thought circles in my head, making me dizzier than I already am with my life. Maybe it’s because I wouldn’t have listened to anyone back then. I can admit that much. But still…no one said a damn word. Not a single person thought of telling me. The realization hits deep. I feel like a stranger in my own life.
I go on and tell my parents everything. Except for the part of Ezra and me sleeping together. I’m not sure what they would think about that. By the time I end the call, they’re both pretty upset and wanted to go take a walk before bed to calm themselves down.
And when I get home, all I can do is crawl into bed and curl up beneath the covers. The silence is heavy, and before I know it, more tears are slipping down my cheeks. I thought I was past this, too numb to cry anymore. Too numb to feel. But here I am, again, breaking. Every time something good happens, it comes crashing down. I was so happy and content today. Even finding the closed bakery made me look ahead in the right direction. But now that feels like he will ruin it. I know I shouldn’t let him have this much power over me. But how can I stop it when he keeps digging my grave?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EZRA
Dread usedto fill me when the work day would end and I knew I was about to head home. I don’t know why I kept it going for so long when I felt like this. Sometimes a grain of hope would rise, and I thought things would get better. When opening my shop and working full time kept me busy, the dread would be less because I knew Rya would likely be in bed by the time I would get home.
When I first moved in with Violet, my dread wasn’t so bad and it disappeared for a little while. But now it’s come back again full force because I’m living in a house that she shared with Zayn. I didn’t think it would bother me, but now it does. We both need to start fresh somewhere else. I know she’s tied down to this house, but I can help her move. Even if it’s not with me, I would like to help her start over.
I walk into the house, a sigh of relief that nothing is going on washes over me, but then the dead silence makes me question why it’s so quiet.
I open her bedroom door. A small slit of light shines on her. Her soft features look calm as she’s sound asleep. I softly close the door behind me. Before it shuts, I hear, “Ez.”
I stop, open the door again, and peek back in the room. “Yeah?” I whisper.
“Oh, thank God. I thought it was someone else,” she says while turning over onto her back, yawning. “I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll let you sleep.”
She rises on her elbows, looking over at me. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t sleep anymore, or I’ll be awake all night.” She scoots herself up. “Did you just get home?”
Home. I like the sound of that. Especially coming from her. Still, part of me can’t help but wish it wereours. A place that holds only our lives. Free of the lingering bullshit that hangs around here. No reminders of anyone but us. Our memories, our laughter, our ups and downs. Just us.
“Yeah,” I say and lean myself up against the door frame.
Another yawn comes out of her. No doubt the restful nights are catching up with her.
“So guess what?”
“Oh, no.” My stomach twists at those words. What now? What could have happened now? I step further in and take a seat on her bed; my butt is barely hanging on. I’m glad today was an admin day, or else I would be worried about smelling like sweat and oil.
“You can sit further on the bed.”
I shake my head. “I’m good.” I don’t care how immature this sounds, but I want nothing to do with what she and Zayn used to share. Even if new bedding covers the mattress.
She giggles, understanding where I’m coming from.
“Okay. Let’s go to your bed then.”
We both settle into my bed—me on my back, her on her side facing me. A gentle warmth spreads through me and my breathing slows, evening out the chaos of the day. Her presence calms me.
“So, what happened?” I ask.
