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Ipull into the parking lot of my apartment building after school. The past three days since I broke up with Tyler and my father got engaged have been hard. I’m avoiding my family, only because I know they’ll make me confront my insecurities about losing my mom completely, and I’m not ready to do that yet. Everything is still so raw.
Plus, I pushed Tyler away. So basically, I’m the worst human being ever.
And I’m all alone, so that doesn’t help things either.
It’s your own fault you’re alone. You have no one to blame but yourself.
I shake my head, ignoring my pesky inner voice.
I stop at the top of the stairs, completely surprised by who I see standing by my door, waiting for me.
“Hey, babe.”
“Zak, what are you doing here?” He looks lean, dressed in a navy suit, and he appears to have gotten a fresh haircut.
“I came to talk.”
My chin drops, and I raise my brows. “You came to talk?”
“Is that all right?”
“I don’t know.”
I walk past him and use my keys to open the door to my apartment. It’s been two months since I’ve heard from or seen Zak. I’ve licked my wounds—actually, that sounds gross.
I’ve mended my broken heart, and I hate how one look at Zak takes me right back to where I was when he told me he didn’t love me anymore.
“Meg, you have every right to be mad at me,” he says, following me into my apartment.
I walk to the counter and set my purse down. “I’m not mad.”
I’m sad. He broke my heart and ruined my faith in happily ever after, but worst of all, he took the last words my mother said to me—her dying wish—and made a mockery of them.
“If you’re aren’t mad, then what are you? You seem distant.”
I don’t know what I am.
I open the refrigerator and pull out some leftovers.
“Meg, can you just stop what you’re doing and talk to me?”
I set the Tupperware down and meet Zak’s gaze. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Zak draws in a deep breath like he’s nervous, and it’s nice, for once, to see him lacking confidence. “I made a mistake. I should’ve never left you. I was scared of marriage and making that kind of commitment, and I thought those fears meant that I didn’t love you.”
I blink back at him from where I’m standing in the kitchen.
“Are you going to say anything?” he asks.
I don’t know what any of this means. Zak thinks he made a mistake. Am I supposed to hand him an award for finally getting in touch with his feelings at twenty-nine years of age?
“I think I’ll just keep listening.”
“Okay.” He sighs. “Then I’ll say what I came here to tell you. Meg, I love you. I’ll always love you.”
“How do you know you love me now when you didn’t two months ago?”
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? I was scared.”
