More Than Sorry

6: She Confronts the Boy

"Eden!"

I ignore Zach's call—forget everything—and dash down the aisle. But these heels weren't made for dashing. They're barely made for walking. I slow up just enough so I don't fall flat on my ass again.

"Eden!" Zach's quick steps follow behind me. "Wait! You forgot your bag."

Shit.

I pause, my eyes going over my shoulder. Zach freezes too. There's a chasm between us, but it still feels too close. He moves first. He sets his shopping basket down, and when he straightens back up, he holds out my bag. It swings from his fingers. He waits for me to make the next move.

I stalk back to him and snatch my bag.

What's he even doing here? Shouldn't he be chained to his desk like every other Wednesday in history? My eyes narrow on his shopping basket. Chocolate. Fancy tea bags. Crackers. Corn relish dip that I could eat by the truckload.

Zach doesn't eat a thing in this basket. Is it all for his office pussycat to get her claws into? They aren't having a date night... Are they? My mouth suddenly tastes sour, and the bitterness flies out in the dumbest way possible.

"You don't eat chocolate," I blurt out. "Or dip."

Zach's eyes dart to his feet before cautiously raising to meet my waiting glare. "It's all for you. I was going to leave some of your favorite things at the salon. You know... because it's Wednesday and... you work late."

Zach's smile is weak, flittering nervously at the corner of his mouth, big eyes hopeful. But the little tickle of warmth of him finally acknowledging me isn't enough to thaw my heart. I'm pure ice.

"I'm surprised you remembered."

Zach exhales sharply, nodding. "I deserve that."

"You deserve so much worse."

"Eden." His voice is strained. "That night... Whatever you think you saw—"

"I know exactly what I saw."

"Nothing happened. She was just—"

"Kissing you... undressing you... grabbing your dick..." I wave my hand dismissively in the air. "Yeah, yeah, I saw all that."

"She never touched my—" Zach's words end abruptly with a sharp shake of his head. Complete denial. "I never let that happen."

"She undid your belt."

"I told her to stop," Zach insists. "I never wanted her hands on me."

"Except all those other times. You know, 'cause it's so hot between the two of you." I lean forward, my eyes narrowed. "Right, Zachy?"

Zach curses under his breath. His hand rakes through his hair, and I can see his mind ticking over a hundred miles an hour. "I don't want to have this conversation with you in the supermarket, Eden."

"Says the man who screwed some woman in his office," I scoff.

"I have never done that. Michaela and I... Fuck. Eden, I don't want to have this conversation here. Can we go—"

"No!" I fold my arms tight across my chest. "You don't get to dodge feeling uncomfortable after I had to witness your Friday night romp. Who is she?"

"No one important."

"Who. Is. She?"

Zach's jaw clenches tight like it takes all his strength to answer my question. "She's a lawyer in the banking team. We hooked up a few times."

"Hooked up?"

He knows he's chosen the wrong words. His mouth only spears down even sharper. "In the past. Whatever... thing... Michaela and I had ended months before you and I even met. There's nothing going on between us. I had no idea she was going to pull any of that crap and I certainly didn't welcome it."

"Right. So, you expect me to believe that out of nowhere this woman just suddenly tries firing back up your relationship and won't take no for an answer?"

"We were never in a relationship. We're not even friends. We just work together."

I roll my eyes. What a load of horseshit.

Zach rushes on to explain, "I was having an absolute shit day. When I got a coffee, Michaela saw me in the kitchen. She wouldn't buzz off. I didn't know what the fuck she was planning until she came at me. I told her to stop. I pulled her hands off me. I told her to get the hell out of my office, and then I locked the door. Didn't you see that?"

"Nah," I admit with another dismissive wave. "I decided to press the pause button on your little sex show once she started taking off your pants."

He bows his head. "I'm so sorry you saw that."

"I bet you are," I sneer. "So, if I believe this utterly bullshit story, you're purely the victim of a woman who wouldn't take no for an answer even though she knew you were living with someone else?"

Zach's eyes instantly go to his feet. "Eden... I..."

I bark out a bitter laugh and stab a guess at the reason for his hesitation. "She didn't know I was living with you."

Zach's tone is defensive when he tries to explain, "The firm drills into you from day one that personal lives don't exist—"

"So I don't exist? No one knows about me? Like I'm—" There's a sudden lump in my throat. My voice chokes, and I hate myself for it. "Like I'm nothing?"

Zach's eyes go wide. "No—no—of course not." He steps towards me, fingers outstretched, but he quickly draws them back. "Eden, you're everything to me."

"Except you don't know anything about me!" My chin wobbles, a bitter hurt crawling up my neck. My pain is evident in every word. "I put you first, Zach. Every damn time. And you can't even be assed to remember a single thing about me. You didn't even remember I run my own salon. I'm so fucking proud of what I've achieved, and you reduced it to nothing.  Because you think I'm... You think I'm nothing."

Hot, embarrassing tears are streaking down my face. When I try to scrub the tears away, my smudged mascara leaves a black streak on the back of my hand.

"Oh Eden, please..." Zach takes another tentative step. "Please, don't cry." His fingers lightly graze my elbow like he wants to comfort me, like he can make it all better.

But I'm not so easily fooled. He did this. He made me feel like this.

I jerk my elbow away and rear backward, getting as far away from his poison touch as possible. Zach's face is stricken, as white as his shirt, when my back hits the shelves behind me so hard that packets of lollies fall from the shelf and my handbag flies from my hand. The mess inside my bag spills out on the supermarket floor.

Zach's on his knees before me, picking up makeup and my purse, and he slips them back into my bag. I grab for my rental papers, but his fingers flip them over first. He scans the front page. His eyes fly up to mine.

"Eden, this is—"

"None of your damn business, that's what it is." I snatch the papers from him. The pages are an even bigger rumpled mess when I stuff them back in my bag. I scramble to my feet.

Zach stands too. His arms are slumped by his side, his head bowed. I have daggers ready to glare at him, but he never looks up.

"You're not coming back," he whispers. "Are you?"

My heart twists because he looks so defeated—so broken. He shattered me into a thousand pieces first, but every dumb, caring bone in my body wants to hold him and tell him I'll make him whole again.

But I won't do that.

I'm strong, and I deserve better.

I spin on my heel and leave without another word.