Page 89 of Haze of Obedience
14
Zoe
It's hard enoughwhen you become a person you always thought you'd never be. When other people see the things you despise the most about yourself, it accelerates the pain to a different level—especially when it's the person you want to be loved by.
All he'll ever see me as is an addict.
You are an addict.
He's never going to be able to trust you.
It's another slap into reality. There is no normal for me. But if I'm honest with myself, there never has been. When you're obsessed with building your career and being number one, there isn't any room for anyone else. Plus, dating when you're famous is hard. Everyone wants something from you—money, fame, even to help their career flourish by association. And meeting people outside of the circle your management team puts you in is nearly impossible.
Even before I changed my managers, I didn't have any relationships with men that weren't surface level.
Dirk is the only one I've met who doesn't appear to want anything from me. My money doesn't seem to be of interest to him. He could have outed me several times, and all he did was try to hide my identity. If anything, he's destroyed his career by helping me.
If I look back on my life, there hasn't been anyone special who I wanted to respect me—not Zoe Diego, the famous Latina pop star—but the actual me.
But you don't even know who you are anymore. How can someone respect you when you don't?
This isn't about respect anyway. It's about trust.
Not true. He can't respect you. You're an addict.
Dirk sits on the bed and strokes my cheek. "I'm sorry."
Pain stabs my heart.
"Will you tell me what I did wrong?"
I roll away from him.
Shame and disgust consume me but not toward him. My entire career, I avoided alcohol and drugs. I saw what it did to several of my musician friends. I didn't want any part of it. I hardly drank, minus a glass of wine or champagne on special occasions. Even when my management team turned me into a cocaine addict, I still didn't turn to alcohol.
But coke dug its claws into me. No matter how hard I tried to break the cycle, I couldn't. The more I used, the further I fell. And if I had walked out of the bathroom and Dirk had a pile of cocaine sitting on top of the counter, instead of bottles of alcohol, I'm not sure if I would be able to fight it. I want to think I'm strong enough. That enough time has passed being sober that I wouldn't even consider it. But Santiago proved how strong I am when he locked me up in a room with it. It's been over a year, and I still get cravings.
Dirk has never seen me high. He's not seen me snort a line or be so desperate I beg until I'm in tears for a hit. But he still knows I'm weak.
My stomach flips at the realization.
I don't want to be an addict. I want to go back to the time when I was the woman who didn't know what it was like to feel the buzz of the high or how it can help me escape or mask some of my pain. I would give anything to have never experienced evil or met my inner demons.
The ironic part is today I felt like my pre cocaine self. But I can't go back. I'm no longer her. As much as I despise it, no matter how much fun I have with Dirk or how long I'm away from the Global Leaders, I'll always be Zoe Diego, a drug addict.
And Dirk Zamora is a guy who has it all together and can have any woman he wants—one he trusts.
The truth continues to shred me, piece by piece, until there isn't anything left. I choke on my sobs.
Dirk slides his warm body under the covers and pulls me into his arms. In Spanish, he says, "I never meant to hurt you, my Little Diva. Forgive me."
"I don't want to be this person," I whisper.
"Who's that?"
"An addict. A woman you can't trust."
He freezes. "Is that what you think? I didn't pull those bottles out because I don't trust you."
