Zac

Hazel eyes flickering with emotion, Cate repeated again, "You okay, Zac?"

My face burned hot as mortification set in.

Shit.

I had been zoning out, lost in a clusterfuck of flashbacks. This whole time, babygirl had been waiting for me to say something. Do something. Anything.

With an embarrassed look, I forced myself to speak up, "Don't worry, I'm good."

She breathed out anxiously, "You sure?"

"Yeah," I assured her.

I meant it, too.

I think?

Mere moments ago, my awakening past had seized me in a relentless hold. It felt strange and surreal. Within seconds, my new self, post-accident, had somehow merged with my old self, pre-accident, and I had no clue what to do with this fusion of opposing perspectives and timelines. There was so much to process, mentally, emotionally, like, the cuts on my arm before the crash, or the ties that bound Virginia Esposito to my dad's crowd, or the vendetta I had carried against those monstrous fuckers.

Last year, after finding my dad's flash drive and before my accident, I hadn't surrendered to my own personal hell during that period in time. My resilience, then, made me more confident, now, in my ability to get through this shit, but it didn't take long for the pieces of those particular memories to become a double-edged sword. This knowledge gave me strength, but it also shined a light on two touchy subjects I didn't want to examine up close.

Touchy subjects like hypocrisy and remorse.

More specifically?

My hypocrisy and my remorse.

We were still sitting in the backseat of my car. Cate's arms remained tight around me. I pulled back a little, easing away from her embrace. I couldn't quite look her in the eye. All of sudden, it became clear that, back then, I hadn't told Cate about Virginia Esposito or my agenda against my dad.

Yet, like the world's biggest hypocrite, I broke up with her for keeping secrets from me when, actually, I had been hiding shit from her, too. Why I chose to withhold these details from Cate at the time—I didn't know, I'd yet to recall the reasoning behind my decision—but, as babygirl gazed at me, so expectantly, so lovingly, I began to feel more and more like an unworthy asshole. I didn't deserve her or her love.

Averting my eyes, I struggled to find my bearings, "I..."

Try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to confess my crime.

She asked, "Did you remember something else just now?"

"No," I lied.

I knew I'd have to tell Cate the truth eventually, but I wasn't ready to piss her off. Not now, anyway. She would only be in New York for three more days. Once her speech and debate tournament ended, babygirl would fly back to DC, and I'd lose her all over again. I didn't want to fuck things up even more for us. Not with two hundred miles separating her from me. My stupid ass had already done enough damage to our relationship.

In cautious tones, she murmured, "So, you say that you're... good? Does this mean you believe me now? Or do you still have doubts?"

Doubts?

She was probably referring to my blubbering, emotional outburst from moments ago.

My dad, I mean, he's definitely not a good guy, he made some big mistakes, but... he's not a monster.

I grimaced. "No, no, I believe you now."

She chewed on her lower lip. "What about the shit I said about your dad? You seemed to be really against it only a short while ago."

I mumbled, "I guess, at first, I was in denial."

Cate's expression softened. "That's... understandable."

"I mean, the shit you said about my dad is so fucked up and wrong, like, it's downright evil. I don't want to believe that it's true, but..."

"Yeah?"

"If there's already evidence against him on a flash drive, it seems pointless to argue otherwise, you know?"

"Right," Cate confirmed with a nod. "I'll find a way to get his flash drive to you, I promise."

I didn't really need to see the fucking flash drive anymore. My memories confirmed my dad's guilt for me.

Still, I thanked her.

Cate coughed and wrung her hands in her lap. "Of course."

A deep crease sat between her brow. I could tell there was a lot more on babygirl's mind.

"Is everything... okay... with you?" I prompted hesitantly.

Cate's response was immediate, her worry over my well-being was very obvious, "I'm gonna be honest here, Zac, as much as I want you to trust me again, you literally switched from being in denial to being fully on board within minutes. This sudden one-eighty seems, I dunno, a bit rushed? It's okay, you know, to take some time to process this situation. Go ahead and doubt me, ask me more questions, until—"

Alarm prickled across my skin. She was trying to get me to open up. It was too much. I wasn't ready to show my hand and let shit hit the fan.

So, I interjected, insisting, "I appreciate your concern, Cate, I really do, but I don't need more time to process this shit. I'm not doubting you. I definitely have questions, but I don't need to ask them all at once."

Cate sighed in a disgruntled manner, "Why do I get the feeling that you're not being honest with me?"

I wanted to tell her the truth: Because I'm scared of losing you.

But, instead, I settled on, "Please stop worrying about me so much. I admit, I'm pretty shaken up about my dad. I don't feel okay right now, but, in time, I know there's gotta be a light at the end of this tunnel, and, in time, I know I'll come out the other side. I'll make it through, Cate, it's not gonna be easy, but I'll make it through."

I spoke with a surprising amount of conviction. I had, after all, made it through the first time. I decided, right then and there, that I was going to fake it until I made it this second time around as well. I was going to put on a brave face because I didn't want to burden Cate any more than necessary. I knew I already put babygirl through more than her fair share of pain. Guilt wracked me. I wanted to show her that I could be strong, again, in crisis mode. I wanted to show her that I wasn't a worthless, weak piece of shit.

Cate's hazel eyes glistened with tears. She reached over to cup my cheek. "I know you'll make it, Zac, because I'll be with you every step of the way. Whatever you need, I'm here for you. We can do this together. I know we can."

The hope and strength and promise in her words flowed through me. My chest filled with gratitude and another emotion that felt too dangerous to name. The fullness of these feelings pushed aside my lingering fears and doubts. For a split second, my old self seemed to take hold of me as I stared deeply into her eyes. Flecks of green dipped in honey-brown. My heart began to beat for Cate in a way that felt all too intimate and much too powerful. It floored me. It uplifted me. I couldn't resist pressing my cheek into the warmth and softness of her palm.

My voice hitched a little, turning hoarse and gruff, when I replied, "You don't know what you mean to me, Cate. I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life."

"We're friends," she whispered with a sad smile, "no matter what, okay?"

"No matter what," I vowed, my gaze never straying from her face.

My heart continued to beat—I don't deserve you, babygirl—and beat—but I love you so fucking much—and beat with a bittersweet familiarity that tethered me to Cate more than ever. The steady, calming rhythm of it called to me like shelter in a storm. If only I could allow myself to answer the call, reclaim my babygirl, and remove everything that stood in the way of our happiness.

Fuck.

If only.