Embrace (20 page)

             
“Grace.” He breathes. “You don't know what you're getting into with him. He's not good enough for you and he
will
hurt you.” He promises. “I know it may seem impossible right now, but I know him Grace. I know how he gets. I'm not trying to control you, I'm trying to protect you.”

             
“I......” My words get cut off before I have a chance to respond.

             
“He's right.” Zayne's voice cuts through me and I whip around to see him looking at me with an expression I can't quite pin. Apology. Regret. Sadness.

             
“He's right Grace.” He repeats. “I never should have let this happen or allow it to go on as long as it has. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He says, not meeting my eyes.

             
“Zayne... What are you saying?” I ask, silently begging for him to look at me.

             
“It's over Grace.” His words cut through me like a tidal wave. The water beating me down further and further until I am struggling to do something as natural as breathe.

             
“What? I don't... I don't understand.” I say, disbelief evident in my voice.

             
“You can't love me Grace.” He says, his eyes finally meeting mine. Suddenly everything makes perfect sense. He's not pushing me away because of Alec, he's pushing me away because I admitted that I am in love with him.

             
It tells me everything I need to know about the man that I so carelessly gave my heart. I know he loves me too. I can feel it, see it in the way he looks at me. He's scared.

             
“You fucking coward.” I spit, not waiting for any response. Heartbreak and embarrassment have me practically running to the nearest exit. I need to get away from here.

             
I push my way past him, ignoring Alec's voice trailing after me. I pass the elevator and slip into the stairwell, not bothering to slow down and nearly falling down the last few stairs as I round another floor.

             
Honestly, I think falling would hurt less than the pain currently ripping it's way through my body. He hurt me, just not the way everyone saw coming. He's not incapable of love, he's scared of it.              

             
And when it came time for him to step up and show me that we are in this together, he turns his back on me. He runs. I can't help but blame myself. Deep down, I think I always knew that eventually, he would run.

Chapter Twenty-Three

              “I just don't get it. He seemed so into you and yet, he just turns his back on you, makes you look like that in front of your brother. It just doesn't make sense.” Becca says, shaking her head while she pours me another shot of tequila.

             
I have drank more in the three months I have known Zayne, then I have in all my years combined prior to him. I should have seen the path I was heading down before I reached the end. Unfortunately I didn't and now here I am. Once again drowning my sorrows into a never ending flow of hard liquor.

             
Poor Becca has had to deal with more than her fair share of my Zayne related drama and yet somehow, she manages to at least portray that she really cares and that she's not completely sick of hearing about all of my non sense.

             
Because of this, I really just gave her the summed up version of how my evening went yesterday once I left
Vitos
. Reliving the details is still too new. The wound too fresh.

             
“Maybe you should just get away for a while, ya know? Go home, see your family. It might do you some good to remove yourself from the situation completely.” She suggests.

             
“I don't know Bec. I miss my mom, I really do. And Ian too. But leaving now, it feels too much like giving up. I just got my writing off the ground. I can't afford to just throw it all away now.” I say, emptying the contents of my glass and scooting it towards her, silently asking for more.

             
She gives me a sad smile but doesn't say a word as she quickly refills my glass again. My goal is to drink until I can't count how many I have had. So far, I'm on three. Enough to have me swaying a bit, but not so much that I can't form a coherent sentence and right now, that's exactly where I want to be.

             
“I get that Grace, I do. But what can you do in New York that you can't do in Colorado for a week?” She asks.

             
Knowing she has a point, I simply take another drink. Admitting she's right, that nothing is holding me to New York at the present moment, gives me an out to leave. I should take it right? And yet, taking it means going half way across the country. It means hundreds of miles separating me and Zayne. And that is something I'm not sure I am ready for.

****

              After having to be carried out of the bar just after six, spending the night crying my eyes out to Carver and puking up my weight in alcohol, one would think that I would lay off of the drinks for a while. And yet, the first thing I do at the start of my Sunday shift is order a shot of Fire Water. I don't yet have the stomach to try Tequila again after last night, which is usually my shot of choice.

             
I know that Becca has filled Jake in on my breakdown yesterday but he makes no mention of it. Instead, he spends the last thirty minutes leading up to my set talking about Becca's sister and how infuriating she can be.

             
While I really don't care in my present frame of mind, I appreciate that he's at least trying to talk about something other than my current predicament. I can tell that he senses his attempt at distracting me is not working, but I gotta give it to him for trying.

             
After two drinks, I make my way up on stage, holding my guitar for the first time since everything went down. Usually music is my go to but for whatever reason, picking up the instrument is about the last thing that crossed my mind over the course of the last two days.

             
As soon as I strum out the first few chords of  “I Don't Wanna Love Somebody Else” by A Great Big World, I can already feel the lump forming hard and tight in my throat. And as I sing the lyrics of a song that unfortunately holds more meaning to me right now then I would like it too, I know exactly why I didn't turn to music.

             
It has been my way of coping for so long. A way to vent my emotions. But with that, it also forces me to feel. And right now, I feel everything. I feel the pain, the loss, the betrayal. I see the look in his eyes when he told me it was over.

             
My voice quivers on the last few lines but I try my damnedest to hold it together, though I am realizing very quickly that I should not be up here. I shouldn't be up on stage trying to deal with emotions that are too raw, too fresh, too painful.

             
I don't even realize Jake is standing at the edge of the stage until the song is over, by which time a new steady stream of tears are flowing down my cheeks. After Friday night and then again last night, I was sure I had no tears left to cry. And yet, here I am, crying like a blubbering baby in the middle of a bar, on a stage in front of, thank god, only two other people and neither of which seem to be paying me any attention at all.

             
“Go home Grace.” Jake's tone is soft but I can tell by the look on his face that this is not a request.

             
“No, I can do this.” I say, taking a deep breath.

             
“No, you can't. This isn't a choice.” He says, reaching over to shut down my amp and unplug my mic.

             
“I'm terminating your employment Grace.” He says, softly enough that no one else can hear him. “Go home. Take some time to sort all this out. I know Becca mentioned maybe visiting your family for a few days. I think you should consider it.” He says, almost apologetic.

             
I don't try to hide my look of absolute confusion. “You're firing me?” I ask, fresh tears streaming down my face.

             
Stepping onto the stage, he reaches out and takes my guitar and sits it to the side before plopping down on the amp next to me. Given our height difference and how much lower the amp sits than my stool, it puts us at eye level with one another.

             
“We love having you here Grace but this isn't where you need to be right now. You need to realize that this place is holding you back, because it is.” He says, reaching out to take my hand.

             
“You're too good for this place Grace, you always have been too good for this place. Becca told me about your writing deal. Congratulations by the way.” He says, a dimple filled smile lighting up his face.

             
I manage a weak smile of my own. “Thank you.” I say, surprised that for the moment at least, the tears have stopped. “But I love playing here. You know that right?”

             
“I do.” He says. “And you are welcome back anytime. But your priority right now needs to be you. Your life, your writing. I have seen too many good people get comfortable in this environment and end up letting their dreams pass them by. I know that you're hurting right now and that life probably seems full of disappointments and trials but Grace, you're going to get through this. And eventually, you are going to be a stronger person because you did.” He pauses for a moment, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

             
“I may not be your boss anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm not your friend. I still expect you to come see us weekly. I want you to stop by when you have a new song and you just need someone else to hear it. I want you to come here and have a celebration drink with us when your book sells, and then another when it hits the best sellers list.” His genuine smile is so infectious, for the first time in two days, I find myself smiling too.

             
Because as hard as it will be to walk away from this place. I know Jake is right. Now is the time where my life really begins. My writing career is now in swing. My friends are growing up, following their dreams. Somewhere along the way, I have to stop delaying and just start doing.

             
I'm not the same teenage girl that I was five years ago. I'm not the person I was four years ago or even three or two for that matter. Each day I grow, I learn, I become who I am meant to be in this world.

             
Losing Zayne is a loss that I am almost certain I can not bare and yet, I know that I have to find the strength somewhere. The world doesn't stop turning because my heart is currently in pieces. Life goes on and I go right along with it.

             
After thanking Jake and gathering my things, I make the short ten minute walk home, dispensing my guitar by the door before heading straight for my room.

             
Without so much as a second thought, I pull out my oversized suitcase from my closet and begin filling it with various outfits and toiletries. For a moment, I consider calling my mom but immediately decide against it.

             
A long drive across the country will give me the time I need to think, to clear my head. If my mom knows I'm coming, she will call me every hour to check my progress. As much as I love her, I don't want her as a distraction right now.

             
After gathering all the essentials for my twenty-eight hour drive, I write Carver a quick note letting him know that I am going home to visit my family and that I will call as soon as I arrive. I know that he will worry about me, that's just his way, but I also know that he will support my decision as well.

             
A sick knot forms in the pit of my stomach when I almost call Alec on instinct to fill him in. We obviously have not spoken since the incident and while I know I am at fault, I can't be the one to reach out to him, at least not yet anyways. My pride simply won't allow it.

             
Rolling my suitcase to the door, careful to be quiet and not wake Carver, I take one last look at the apartment that I have grown so fond of. It's hard to believe that three months ago this place was bustling with activity. Me, Emma, and Carver all trying to find our way through living together, finding jobs, sharing the television and even harder, sharing the bathroom.

             
I can't help but smile at all the fond memories I have made here and even though I know I will be coming back, a part of me feels like this is goodbye in a sense. Not in the goodbye forever kind of way. But more as if I know that the person I am today will not be the person that returns here when I do.

             
After throwing my suitcase in the trunk of my car, I head out into the night. Taking in everything that is New York and being able to pinpoint the things I will miss the most while I'm gone, which may be a week or a month or hell, even a year. Becca was right. There's nothing I can do in New York that I can't do in Colorado.

             
I can write no matter where I am and electronic communication will work just as effectively as in person when working with my agent. Tons of writers have agents that live across the country. It's not like every person who gets signed, turns around and moves to wherever their agent is. That would be absurd.

             
My only real dilemma as far as work is concerned, is how I am ever going to muster the strength to finish the novel I am currently working on. Whether I finish now or a year from now, I know eventually I will. But that doesn't mean I can't work on other things until I'm ready.

             
It takes me about thirty minutes until I see the blazing lights of the city in my rear view mirror. Even at one in the morning, the city still seems alive. And watching the lights grow dimmer and dimmer behind me, I feel a new found sense of courage that until recently, I didn't even know I had.

             
It's time for me to 'put my big girl panties on' as Em would say and learn how to live without Zayne. And while the thought both devastates and terrifies me, I know that ultimately I don't have any other option. I need to heal and I need to move on. For myself and for the people I love.