Page 69 of Show Me How to Heal
I swallowed, averting my eyes, looking at Sammy pressed against my leg, whimpering pitifully.
Every cell of my body wanted to stay, wanted to tell Zayne all my reasons why I hadn’t told him earlier. Only they didn’t seem like good reasons anymore. What had I been so afraid of in the first place? Of him tattling on me? No, I’d known he wouldn’t do that. I trusted him. I loved him. He’d been my rock. His presence, him as a human being had done more to heal my wounds than my therapists and doctors had managed to combined.
But he didn’t want to see me. He didn’t want to hear me out. And I… I swallowed. Zayne was right. I needed to respect his boundaries, even if doing so would kill me.
I grabbed my beanie and my scarf before gabbing Sammy’s leash that I’d let go of upon entering the shop. His whimpering only got louder as I stumbled towards the door.
With one last glance over my shoulder, I said: “I’m sorry. I really, really am. So, so sorry.” Then I opened the door, only to be blinded by flashing cameras.
I almost thought I heard Zayne murmuring “Me, too” before the door closed behind me with unsettling finality.
“Mr. Richter. Mr. Richter! I have a few questions!”
“Mr. Richter! Lukas!”
“Why Juniper Creek?”
“Are you really gay?”
“A statement please?”
A camera was held right into my face. I shoved it away as hard as I could, hurrying along the alley and onto the street where even more people waited, shouting questions at me. Taking pictures. Making assumptions.
Everything was back to the way it’d been a couple of months ago. Only this time, it was infinitely worse.
DID THEY BREAK UP ALREADY?
LUKAS RICHTER WAS JUST SPOTTED LEAVING HIS BOYFRIEND’S SHOP CRYING!
Chapter 18
Zayne
“I’m really sorry,” Mason told me while he was restocking the small baskets full of my deodorant cream. “If I’d known Luke hadn’t told you anything about his career and what a reaction being found might cause, I could’ve told and warned you.”
As nice a gesture it was to have not only Avery but Mason help me out with restocking and decorating my shop, I almost wished they hadn’t offered their help. I couldn’t refuse it because I knew I needed every helping hand I could get since, actually, I wasn’t the one who knew the ins and outs of this shop. Luke had been the one to find his routines, to change a few things up about stocking them, and the whole how to present the different products. With him missing, me being a couple of minutes behind schedule rapidly accumulated into me running almost two hours behind.
On the other hand, I wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Preferably in my bed, not in a shop with dozens of journalists and paparazzi knocking on my front windows. The fuckers had ruined all the hard work we’d put in yesterday cleaning the display windows until they’d been all shiny and spotless.
“That’s not on you,” I murmured. “Please stop apologizing.” I didn’t want any more excuses. Not from anyone. Every time Mason said sorry — this being the fifth time, not that I counted — it reminded me of Luke’s absolutely crushed expression when I sent him away. It had hurt seeing him like this, seeing him absolutely defeated and being the one kicking him while he was already on the ground. But I hadn’t been able to deal with him here. Hadn’t able to deal with his flimsy excuses for keeping me out like that.
“Zayne, come on, let’s go in the back and take a break,” Avery said, gently gripping my arm and guiding me into the break area, pressing me down onto the exact chair I’d sat on this morning, watching Luke break in front of my eyes.
The tears started falling again for the thousandth time today.
He’d already been gone for a couple of minutes when I’d realized what I’d done. By kicking him out, I’d thrown him right to the wolves — the paparazzi.
I’d already seen the pictures. A crying Luke, screaming journalists, Sammy whining and barking pitifully, trying to defend his owner who was being chased down the street until Raphael had pulled him into his shop and locked the door.
While making him leave had been the right decision, sending him out there without back-up to get him away quickly had been cruel.
“You should go home,” Avery told me, pulling a chair towards him and sitting down right in front of me. “You’re almost done. Mason can drive you home while I make sure everything’s perfect. You have a big day ahead of you.”
“Can’t I just skip it?” I murmured. My stomach tied itself into knots just thinking about the grand opening, doing it all alone.
“Nope. Can’t do. You worked too hard for this to let that asshole ruin it for you.”
“Luke’s not an asshole,” I countered. That was part of the problem. I was so fucking disappointed with him, and maybe a little angry, too. But in my heart I knew he was a good person, which made it impossible to be furious with him. Instead, I always came back to the question of why he’d had so little faith in me.
