Today
The first few nights after my discharge from hospital, I hardly sleep a wink. Every hint of a dizzy spell or twinge of a headache makes me worry that my brain is haemorrhaging from the concussion. What if I fall asleep and don’t wake up? Fortunately for Zac, being on night shift means he’s not home to bear witness to this neurotic behaviour. I’m fully aware it would seem extreme to him—to anyone, really—yet I can’t seem to make it stop.
When I finally accept that I’m probably not going to die of an undiagnosed brain bleed, I begin to relax. I spend my recovery days solving puzzles on the dining table, reading dog-eared historical novels in the bath, strolling around Hamilton with Trouble at my heels and chatting with Christina on the phone. I hardly even see Zac, who’s either sleeping the day away or out somewhere. When I text him to ask if he’s with Meghan or if I need to send out a search party, all I get back is a one-word ‘no’, and zero explanation as to which question he’s even answering. Regardless, I feel guilty about commandeering his heavenly bed for so long, so I wash all the sheets and make myself a new spot on the couch. I expect a bit of pushback for that, but Zac barely says a word about it.
On day six, I realise that he’s being more than quiet. He’s avoiding me. When I’m in the living room, he disappears into his bedroom. When we cross paths in the kitchen, he keeps our conversations short. After Lola visits with a bunch of native flowers the size of Antarctica, I bring them to Zac and do the old ‘you shouldn’t have’ joke, but he barely cracks a smile.
Chatty, smiley, doting Zac has evaporated. And if there’s something worse in the world than Zac Jameson being upset with me, I haven’t found it. I’ll never forget the time he stopped talking to me for two weeks in high school when I continued to date an older uni student who felt me up after I’d asked him to stop. It took the agony of Zac’s silent treatment to scare me into action and dump the guy.
I watch Zac toss back his morning coffee, observing how he refuses to meet my eyes.
‘Can I come grocery shopping with you this morning?’ I ask, swallowing nervously. ‘I want to practise being around people again before I go back to work tomorrow.’
Dumbest excuse ever, but I need the face time with Zac to feel out this mood he’s in.
‘If you want,’ he replies, bending to stack the dishwasher without another word.
By the time we get to the supermarket, my gut is being slowly eaten alive by how little Zac’s saying to me—or even looking at me. I have to resolve this the only way I know how: by being an absolute child.
‘Look out!’ I cry, pushing past him to leap onto the back of the shopping trolley and ride it down the cereal aisle.
‘Jesus, Josie,’ he huffs as the trolley sails towards an elderly woman inspecting a packet of sliced bread. I leap off the trolley and jerk it away from her just in time.
Zac’s hand lands beside mine on the handle. ‘Are you high on painkillers or what?’ He carefully guides me and the trolley away from the lady.
I pout. ‘Don’t you remember doing that when we were kids? We always laughed ourselves stupid.’
‘You’re recovering from a concussion.’ He tosses a packet of dark-roasted coffee beans into the trolley.
‘Meh, a king hit to the head was probably just what I needed.’
He shoots me a disapproving glance, confirming he’s lost all sense of humour in the past few days.
Before he can blink, I duck under his arm and climb onto the bottom rail of the trolley, facing away from him. I’m caged between his forearms, and I expect him to let go or at least pull me off, but he doesn’t move.
‘Get down,’ he grumbles near my ear.
My ass brushes against the crotch of his jeans and heat streaks up my back, but I hold my nerve. ‘No. I have a concussion, remember? It hurts to walk.’
He just blows through his lips and shoves the trolley forward, making me jerk to find my balance. Little shit. He makes a fast wheel-around to the next aisle, evidently no longer concerned about my recovering head injury.
I’m not backing down either. I hold on tight and call out things I want him to add to the trolley, my heart pounding out of rhythm every time his pelvis knocks against my backside.
By the time Zac wheels me to the check-out, I’m giggling like an idiot at this silly situation, but when I twist to steal a glance at him, he’s still got that same distant look slapped on his face. My smile fades as I climb down and help him load up the conveyor belt.
When he begins hefting shopping bags into the back of his car without a single word to me, I snap.
‘Are you pissed off with me about something?’ I ask, immediately flushing pink.
He stills before he looks at me, the burning autumn sun beating down on our heads.
‘No, I’m not angry,’ he finally replies, but his voice carries a tremble.
‘Then what’s wrong? You’ve been acting really weird for the past few days.’
Emotion wells up in his eyes before they dart away. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t said anything. I’ve been wondering how to.’
My chest makes a horrible flip-flop. ‘Say anything about what?’
He glances around, his jaw working. ‘Can we not do this here?’
‘Do what here? Zac, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing. I just …’ The words come out slowly, like he’s hesitant to say them. ‘I think I need you to find another place to live. I’m so sorry.’
I gape at him, embarrassment twisting around my spine. ‘Oh, I know. I’ve stayed too long. It was just meant to be a few days. I’m so sorry.’
‘No, it’s not that. I’ve loved having you there with me.’ Something about his tone makes my breath seize up as he continues in a rush. ‘It’s just that I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am in my head. And—well, if you’re going to keep doing stupid things like you did with Lindsay, then I don’t think I can have you in my life. At least not in my house. I’m sorry.’
My face crumples up, and a flare of remorse deepens in his eyes.
‘What stupid things?’ I ask. ‘You said the accident wasn’t my fault.’
‘It wasn’t. But you got into a car with a man who you’d been drinking with all night. And it wasn’t the first time, was it?’
I blink at him, gobsmacked. ‘And I said I was sorry. But it’s what happened, and I don’t understand what you expect me to do about it now.’
‘Nothing. But like I said, if you’re going to get in cars with drunk assholes, then I can’t have you in my life, OK?’
His distressed face blurs as my eyes fill up. ‘Wow. Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Zac, I really am. It’s not like we haven’t known each other since we were thirteen.’
His brow creases as he flattens a hand over his chest. ‘Josie, you know my history. You know I lost the woman I was supposed to marry to a drunk driver. Right?’
A tear spills from my eye, and I drop my chin to hide it. ‘You make me sound like a walking liability. Have you never made a mistake, Zac? Do you ever get tired of being such a good person all the time? Of being five hundred levels above everybody else?’
‘Do you ever get tired of thinking you need to be bad?’ he counters. ‘It’s not cancer that’s going to kill you, Josie; it’s this shit. Going out every night of the week with fuckwits who aren’t mature enough to know when enough’s enough.’
‘Well, I might not have done that if you’d had the courtesy of telling me that Lindsay has a habit of driving when he’s over the limit!’
Zac’s chin jerks back. ‘What?’
My hand tightens to a fist at my side. ‘At the hospital, Lindsay told me the reason he moved out of your house was because you kicked him out after he drove home drunk and hit your letterbox. So, why the hell didn’t you tell me that? If you had, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation!’
‘I didn’t think I would have to tell you that, Josie!’ Zac practically shouts. ‘I would’ve thought that you, of all people, wouldn’t take the risk!’
A young couple beside us share an uncomfortable glance as they toss their grocery bags into their car. After they quickly drive away, I feel Zac’s eyes burning a hole in my cheek as I stare at the street.
‘I’m sorry about the cancer thing I said,’ he mumbles. ‘I want you to know that I’m still happy to come with you to your tests.’
‘Oh, whatever, Zac.’ I wave a hand in his direction. ‘You do you.’
I hate that we’re having what feels like a couple’s fight in the middle of a carpark, but the thought of going back to his lovely home to feel unwanted there fills my stomach with lead.
‘Spoiler alert, this is a friendship, Zac,’ I add, those words sending a jolt of nerves through me. ‘We’re not a couple. You don’t get to have deal-breakers and ice me out. Friendship is unconditional.’ I hear how ridiculous that sounds as soon as I say it. Friends are allowed to have boundaries too, I know, but I’m too damn upset to correct myself.
Zac looks a little taken aback before he steels his face at me. ‘I’m sorry, but getting in cars with drunk drivers is a deal-breaker for me.’
Tears build on my eyelashes, and I rapidly blink them away. This painful avoidance of me is feeling a little too familiar.
‘Got it,’ I say thickly. ‘Well, come on then. Let’s go, so I can grab my stuff and get out of your life like you want me to. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on it this time. I should’ve read the room better.’ I circle two fingers in the air.
He just stands there. ‘What do you mean, this time?’ ‘Oh, come on, Zac. This isn’t really our first goodbye, is it.’
The look on his face says he truly wants me to believe he has no idea what I’m talking about.
I fold my arms at him. ‘How have you been for the last two years? Because I wouldn’t have a clue. And I know what you went through was awful. It was one of the worst things anyone could ever imagine. But you didn’t let me be there for you. A week after the funeral, you just took off, and you never once came back.’
Zac’s eyes gleam with tears. It’s so hard to talk to him about this stuff without feeling like a selfish prick, but if this is the last conversation we’re going to have, I’m going to drop some ugly truth bombs.
‘I didn’t move to the moon, Josie,’ he protests. ‘You could have visited me up here anytime.’
My voice turns high. ‘Why would I when you wouldn’t return my phone calls and barely replied to my messages? You cut me out of your life; you shut me out of your pain entirely.’
‘I was traumatised!’ He steps forward, his watery eyes blazing into mine. ‘My fiancée died in my fucking arms. Not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t thought about it. About how I tried everything to keep her alive, and nothing worked. Imagine how utterly hopeless I felt. Three years of training, learning how to save lives, and it all meant jack shit in that moment. I couldn’t do anything to help her. And it should have been me driving that car. I wanted to, but she kept insisting, and I should’ve—’
‘Shut up!’ I rush forward to clamp my hand over his lips. ‘Don’t you dare stand here and tell me you were supposed to die in that car. Because if you do, I will never fucking speak to you again. Do you hear me?’
His eyes shine with tears, and I pace backwards, heaving breaths.
For what feels like an eternity, we stand in a deadlock of silence while my heart slowly disintegrates at the thought of Zac blaming himself for Tara’s death.
‘Zac, you need to stop guilt-tripping yourself over this,’ I say, my voice fighting for breath. When he doesn’t reply, I wrap my hands around his wrists and guide him to look at me. ‘You did everything you could to save Tara. Everything. This is not your fault. Please, Zac. Forgive yourself.’
His face twists up, and I reach around his back, pulling him close. The unexpected proximity of him sends me into a dizzying spin, and all I can do is clutch on tightly. He buries his face in my neck, a deep sigh shuddering through him as I run my palm up and down his spine.
I whisper how sorry I am, over and over, while his tears dampen the nape of my neck, my heart sore to bursting.
‘How could I have just gone on with my life down there?’ he chokes out. ‘How could I get up each day … eat breakfast … brush my teeth … walk around Sydney with the sun on my face … when she was never going to do any of those things again?’ His arms tighten around me. ‘It was too much to live with, Josie.’
Tears drip down my cheeks, and my palms keep scoring lines up and down his back as I savour the frantic beats of his heart against mine. I nearly lost you, too.
‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him for the millionth time. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I understand that you needed to leave every part of your life down there. I get it now. I’m sorry.’
He pulls away from me, leaving me cold and empty, but there’s some relief when his fingers slip around my wrists, his glistening eyes holding mine.
‘No, you don’t understand,’ he says, a deep blush overcoming his face. ‘You don’t understand all of it.’
I wait for more, but he looks away and wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand. ‘Fuck, sorry,’ he says. ‘I clearly needed to let some shit out.’
‘Have you spoken to someone about all this?’ I ask gently. ‘A counsellor?’
He nods. ‘It’s helped with things like being able to get behind the wheel of a car without falling apart, but I honestly just need to keep toughing it out and putting my big-boy pants on.’ His expression hardens with the same look I saw on his face at the funeral.
‘You know it’s just as brave to say you’re not OK, right?’
He looks down and releases a long breath.
God, I was an idiot to get into that car with Lindsay after he’d been drinking. I hadn’t realised how much pain Zac was still in over the accident. I screwed everything up between us again, and now I have to live with it.
‘We should get going,’ I say, my voice fading. ‘I’ll stay in a motel until I find someone who doesn’t mind a temporary housemate.’
I turn for the car, but Zac catches my forearm. ‘I don’t want you to do that.’ Regret burns in his eyes. ‘I overreacted. I’m sorry. You know that drunk drivers are a seriously sore point for me, and when I saw you lying in that hospital bed, I just … fuck.’ He inhales a throttled breath. ‘I was living my worst nightmare. I’m so sorry, Jose.’
I clasp my hand over his, and his palm turns upward, pressing into mine. I give his hand a light squeeze and let go, but he holds on. My breath stalls as he gazes down at me, the spot where his fingers are gently kneading mine now the focal point of the entire world.
I need to say something, but no words form. I just stare up at him as his eyes flicker back and forth between my own before his gaze begins to travel over my face, finishing with a very clear drop to my mouth.
What is happening right now?
A blush creeps up my neck and across my cheeks.
‘Are we OK?’ Zac asks softly.
I assume he’s talking about our friendship, which throws me, so I force out a smile and nod, which is pure performance.
Because the thing is, I want him to kiss me. Right now.
I want him to kiss me stupid.
I want him to press me up against the car and kiss me until there’s no breath left in my body.
Even though he’s dating someone, and we have fourteen years of friendship to lose.
I just can’t keep trying to fight against it anymore. I won’t.
But as those thoughts settle in my head with perfect clarity, Zac’s fingers let go of mine, and he turns away from me.