Page 89 of Shame Me
About a block away from the venue, Braden said, “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Great crowd tonight.”
“Yeah, they were.” But the last thing on my mind was the audience. Denver was considered our hometown by most fans, so I never felt like it counted.
A little while later, Braden held the door for me as we entered the hotel and we were once again silent as we took the elevator up to our floor. Maybe he sensed my need for introspection, but I was making myself miserable, because I couldn’t get that image of Zack with that woman out of my head—and I partly felt like maybe he was trying to taunt me.
Would he do that?
I couldn’t really put anything past the drunk version of him.
“Did you want to shower first?” he asked.
No—I wanted to bury my head in the pillow and cry my eyes out—but I wouldn’t do that now. It would have to wait until we were back home again. So I told him I would—and once I got under the warm water, I let the tears fall, getting washed away in the stream as I relived the past couple of years in my head.
It was Mick who had told me to be careful what I wished for more than once—and I was starting to think maybe that applied to Zack as well. I’d wanted that boy from early on and, looking back, it was quite clear to me that the feeling had never been mutual. Had he simply started sleeping with me on the road to shut me up?
I couldn’t be certain.
But…he’d said he loved me. And he’d done it at one of his most vulnerable moments—and even though Drunk Zack wasmaybe the kind of guy who would do that, my dear friend buried inside wouldn’t have hurt me like that.
And then I thought about our very first time—when I’d given him my virginity. He’d warned me even back then that he’d mess it up. Had he known how much worse he would become? If that was the case, he was irredeemable. I couldn’t save him…and maybe he wouldn’t be able to save himself.
God, what a fucking mess I had become. A pathetic, clingy girlfriend, one who’d ignored all the fucking signs because she was so goddamned desperate to hold onto something that had no chance of working. So, on top of feeling hurt, betrayed, and humiliated, I felt ashamed. I had willing given myself to Zack so he could shame me…over and over again.
Tomorrow, I would be strong, firm, and defiant. I would let him go—but I was going to allow myself one last cry tonight. I’d just have to be quiet and turn on my bed so that my back would be to Braden and he would have less chance of hearing—and if we played a movie on TV like we usually did, it could drown out any small noises escaping my mouth.
I just had to hold it together a little longer.
After putting on my t-shirt and sweatpants, I exited the bathroom. “It’s all yours.” While Braden showered, I lotioned all my dry spots and combed out my hair. When he stepped out, I was drinking a cup of water.
He was already wearing the gray sweatpants he wore as pjs and had combed out his long hair as well. I knew the girls offstage loved him and Cy almost as much as Zack, because both men were also good-looking. Cy had developed a reputation as being moody while Braden was viewed as a sweet teddy bear—fun and cuddly—and that was fairly accurate, but how could these girls tell from watching us for an hour or reading interviews where Zack took up much of the space?
Braden must have sensed my swirling emotions. “How are you holding up?”
“Not so good.”
“Can I get you anything?”
His kindness caused the waterfall to begin. “Maybe a tissue.”
He must have felt better doing something rather than watching me fall apart, because he didn’t waste a moment grabbing several tissues from the bathroom. Then he sat next to me on the bed, handing them to me. As I wiped my eyes and nose, he put an arm around my shoulders.
Having his comfort and acceptance, though, allowed me to let it out—so I let the tears fall…but I finally said, “I don’t know why I’m still crying. He doesn’t deserve my tears after everything that’s happened.”
His voice was quiet. “You loved him. It’s not like you can turn it off and on like a light switch.”
He was right…and so perceptive—except for one thing. I hadn’tlovedZack. Istillloved him, and I didn’t know when I’d be able to let that go.
Maybe itwasa good idea to talk to Braden. I’d been yearning for a female friend to talk to, ignoring a good male friend who’d been right under my nose the entire time. “I feel like such a fool—not just for everything that happened but for being such a big baby about it.”
“You’re not a baby, Dani. He hurt you—and you’re finding your way through the pain.” After a few seconds, his voice softened. “Zack doesn’t deserve you. You’re sweet and funny and an amazing drummer. You’re a fierce defender of your rights and your place in this band and he’s fucking blind to see you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Wow. I had no words…but the tears stopped as I stared at my hands gripping the wadded tissues in my lap.
Braden actuallysawme. He’d seen me in a way Zack never had. Zack, the man who was supposedly my best friend, who’d shared so many cherished moments with me…and yet Braden really knew me, seemed to understand me better. How the hell had that ever happened? And why hadn’t I ever thought of him in that light?
