Page 46 of Restored By the Mountain Man
A force has my steps leading to that room. A room I’ve grown numb to its existence. I’ve happily forgotten it's an additional space in the house. I’ve never had cause to pass by both Rosie’s old nursery and Liz’s craft room.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper. My legs grow heavy. “Please don’t be in there.”
On the floor, sitting criss-crossed is Zoe, filtering through one of Liz’s sketchbooks. And something dark takes over. I can’teven explain the instant fury. I just know the walls close in, seeing all of Liz’s stuff. The color bomb of items and half-done projects that only remind me how she’ll never get to finish them now.
“The fuck are you doing?” my voice croaks, my body firmly standing just outside the door.
Startled, Zoe turns. “Oh my God, Ez, you scared me. I called out when you first came in. You didn’t hear me?”
I see her, but I also don’t. “I asked you a question.”
See finally clocks the shift. Slowly, she places the book down and stands. Cautiously, like approaching a bear, she watches for every expression.
“Ezra? Talk to me.”
“This door,” I point to it, “was closed. Firmly closed. Why the fuck did you think it was your place to open it?”
Her eyes flash with anger, but she’s a better person than me and reigns it in. She’s in control, but in this moment, I’m not.
“I didn’t know it was off-limits,” she says, and though logical, my brain won’t comprehend.
I shake my head. “Get out.”
“Excuse me?” I ignore her pain. No, I pretend to because that stricken look is like a deep cut that almost doubles me over.
“You had no right,” I yell, and finally, for the first time in three years, I enter the room.
“You can’t be here. You’re not supposed to be here,” I bark, grabbing the sketchbook from the floor, and touching it feels like touching livewire. Needing it off my skin, I throw it across the opposite end of the room. “This is hers. It’s all hers.”
“Ezra, you need to calm down. And careful with how you talk to me,” Zoe demands, keeping space between us.
“You can’t be here. Get out,” I grunt.
And I mean the room. Not the house, but I can see she takes it that way and I damn my mouth for not clarifying.
Her eyes well up but the stubbornness in her won’t allow the tears to fall. “You know what, Ezra, fuck you. I was stupid to believe you were ready for love,” she solemnly says, shaking her head.
My eyes fill with tears and the new Ezra inside screams at the old one who’s taken over, demanding he take that woman in his arms and apologize. But he won’t listen. He’s frozen in time.
“My father has a saying and I never understood it until now. But I guess he’s been right all along. Cause where bones aren’t provided, dogs aren’t invited. But I’d be damned if I stay here and allow you to treat me like the bitch who broke her way into your heart. So, I’m leaving,” she says, turning and walking out of the room.
My foot takes a step in her direction, but stays trapped in this room. Her feet rush down the stairs, the front doors slams, her rental car Laurel dropped off earlier today revs up and peels out of my driveway.
My knees buckle, hitting the wooden floor. I welcome the bone deep pain as I look around this room. The room I’d sneak into when she was deep in her creative project and kiss her neck, or surprise her with lunch because she’d always forget to eat. I lean back letting tears fall as I take in the time capsule I created.
But my tears aren’t for the past. They’re more for the two hearts I just broke. Mine can be damned. Always has been. But hers, she deserves the world. And I just fucking proved I’m not worthy of Zoe Diaz.
The room isshadows that play with my psyche as I sit here still two hours later. The sun set and I haven’t been able to move. I’m crippled with regret, playing the moment over and over.
I thought I was good. I thought things were finally different. And hell, they were. I am different, damn it. Keeping this room closed and not facing it all this time, I didn’t realize what a trigger it would be. And it was my own doing.
I pull my hair, groaning, needing to do something. She didn’t deserve that, my goddess Zoe. Never will I forgive myself for raising my voice at her. That is not who I am. That is not who I have ever been. And I will not be that man.
If I’ve lost her, if she can’t forgive me…
I beat my chest to push out the pain. I’ll have to accept it. She should never compromise. But I have to figure out a way to apologize. Even if it’s all she’ll take of me now.
I pull out my phone, find the contact, and hit Call.
