Page 13 of New Year

“I don’t have my old phone anymore.” Which had all his old contacts it in for Sasha, Bud Maher, Angelo, and all the other friends he’d made over the years from college and various jobs. All gone. Nat liked how respectful Zack was being with this entire situation, not too nosy or judgmental. Just asking questions and processing the answers. “He was too careful for there to be proof of anything.”

Zack fiddled with his coffee mug, his gaze fixed on the table, as imaginary wheels turned in his head. Nat could almost see them in a little cartoon cloud, and it was comforting to know someone gave a good goddamn about him for once. “Nathaniel, I’m not going to ask you to give me his name, even though I want to. And I’m not going to blame you for anything that’s happened to you.”

Nat’s hand jerked. “Really?”

“Really. I’ve dealt with abusive men before, and one thing they all have in common is that they are fantastic performers. They can be the most charming, affable, joyful person in a crowd of people, and then turn into something ugly and cruel behind closed doors. I was fooled by someone I thought I was close to, who I thought was a very good friend, and he wasn’t who I thought. He turned out to be a violent narcissist who attacked his ex more than once for leaving him.”

Zack’s hushed tone betrayed his anguish at being betrayed so badly by this unnamed man, and it surprised Nat that Zack was admitting all this to a relative stranger in a diner. But he admired Zack for his honesty and vulnerability. No one liked to admit they’d been fooled.

“I’m sorry your friend hurt you,” Nat said.

“Thank you. Although, he hurt me far less than he hurt his victim, whom I did meet briefly. And I’m happy to say that young man, the last I heard, is very happy with his new partner.”

“I’m glad. What about the guy who hurt him? Your friend?”

“Well, no longer a friend, of course. He spent some time in jail, but I left Wilmington and my old life behind before his release. I have no idea where he is or what he’s up to. My only wish for him is that he learned from his fuck-ups and is living a better life.”

Nat snorted. “Do you think men like that ever really change?”

“I think some can but few do, because it takes work. It takes facing what you’ve done, admitting fault, accepting consequences, and understanding why you acted in that way. Discovering the underlying factors.”

“It can’t just be that they’re a psychopath who enjoys hurting other people?”

“It can be, certainly. There are things like mental illness to consider, as well as sociopathy, narcissistic personality disorder, a whole range of things that warp the way a person perceives themselves and the world. And none of that is an excuse; it’s an explanation that can help someone change. If they choose to change.”

“Dude…” Nat hacked off a piece of his chicken. “Did you major is psychology or something?”

“No. But during the last few years, when I was on the road for work? I listened to a lot of audiobooks on true crime and criminal behavior. It’s been beneficial in understanding the way certain minds think. There are some people who hurt and abuse, and who can be helped if they want to be helped.”

“And there are absolute bastards who just enjoy it and don’t want to change?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t think Au—my ex wants to change. I think he enjoys it too much.”

“So, you’re just going to leave the life you built here behind and run?”

“What choice do I have?” Besides, he’d done it once before. Not that he’d loved his old life in Louisville, but it had at least been familiar. He’d left it behind to come here, and now he had to put a new pin in the map and go elsewhere. Maybe to Wilmington? Was it a big enough city to disappear into? Maybe Atlanta was better. South instead of north.

Zack rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “You always have choices. One of the biggest challenges in our lives is figuring out which choice to make for our greatest benefit. Some are made easily, some are insanely difficult. Some seem like the right thing at the time, but sometimes they turn out to be wrong. Leaving might feel like the easy choice, but are you sure it’s the correct choice?”

“Leaving is safer right now.”

“But living on the street until you have the means to leave isn’t.”

“And again, what choice do I have? I’ve tricked out a few times, but it’s far from a sure thing that they’ll let me stay all night once they’ve fucked me.”

Of course, their waitress chose that moment to come over and ask if they needed anything. Why couldn’t she have done it when Nat had a mouth full of food, like usual? She gave Zack a hard stare before angling toward Nat. “Everything okay, sugar?”

Nat appreciated her paying attention to her customers, but he didn’t need anyone else nosing into his life. “Yeah, we’re fine. But thanks for asking.”

“Mmm hmm.” She left.

“Listen, Nathaniel, I have a proposal for you,” Zack said.

So far, Zack had been patient, nonjudgmental, and he made a lot of sense. Nat leaned forward and mimicked Zack’s posture. “I’m listening.”

“You only need a couple hundred dollars for a cheap phone and a bus ticket, right? But what about once you get there? You’ll need more money for a place to stay, to get yourself set up somewhere new so you aren’t just living on the streets in another state. Trying to earn that amount of money in your, ah, current profession is dangerous, not just physically, but you could also get arrested.”

---