“It’s all I could afford,” Zack says as he stands in the doorway behind me. “I hope you like it.”
Turning back to look at him over my shoulder, I try to force out some words. “This is…?”
He smiles as he limps forward to place his hands around my waist. “Yeah.” His hands are large. They always startle me with their largeness when they encounter my body. “I thought you were going to run out of coffee days ago and find it sooner, but you’ve been living at Starbucks. So, whaddaya say, Soph? Be my wife?”
“Zack—”
“Do you want me to drop down to one knee? It’s a little difficult with the prosthetic, but I will.”
He grasps ahold of the kitchen counter and begins to lower himself to one knee with a grunt, but I turn around and grab his arm to keep him standing.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Let’s just sit for a minute, okay?” I place the coffee canister down so I can lead Zack over to his little IKEA breakfast table. As I sink into my chair, I place my head in my hands and slowly knead my temples. This is why I should have left months ago. I knew that things were getting too serious.
There is so much that Zachary doesn’t know about me. He doesn’t know what I really do for a living. He doesn’t know half the hell I’ve been through. He doesn’t know that the reason he has trouble finding work is because my employers want me to have someone who can protect me at home, at all times. He doesn’t know that I’m already married.
Although, I suppose, that was a long time ago—under a different identity.
It’s funny how nostalgic I can get about a piece of paper. It was just a legal contract for the most part, done out of necessity. We had no hope of having a real marriage.
But deep down, it was always real to me. Too real.
“Sophie, talk to me,” Zack is saying with anxiety in his voice. “I need an answer.”
I shake my head slowly, unsure of how to respond. Nausea makes my stomach turn at the thought of another wedding ceremony. Who would I even invite? I have no friends. I have no family. I have no brother.
Zack reaches across the table to take my hand in his. “I know that things aren’t great right now. You’re upset about Cole, aren’t you? You haven’t heard from him?”
My eyes widen and I pull my hand away abruptly. Am I that transparent? I guess I’m always upset about Cole, lately. Standing up, I move back to the kitchen. “Do you still want that coffee?” I ask him briskly.
“No. I never wanted any. I just wanted you to find the engagement ring,” Zack explains, with hurt in his voice.
I busy myself with going through the motions of making coffee anyway, and ignore the diamond ring as I scoop grounds from the perimeter of the can.
“Sophie, will you stop for a minute!” Zack exclaims. “We need to talk about this. There’s something I need to tell you, about your brother…”
If thinking about Cole is difficult, talking about him is worse.
It would be easier if I were just missing an internal organ; I wouldn’t mind a little shortness of breath while taking the stairs. It would be easier if I were just an amputee, like Zack, always trying to stand on my phantom limb and crashing to the floor. It would be simple. Anything would be better than being so emotionally crippled and numb that I need to stay constantly caffeinated or intoxicated to get through the day. I haven’t been happy in five years, but these last few months have been especially brutal.
“I spoke to him,” Zack says finally. “I asked his permission.”
“What?” I snap, turning around in horror.
“I called your brother a few days ago and asked for your hand in marriage. I know he’s not your real brother, but since you don’t have a father, or any other family for me to ask…”
“You asked Cole?” I say hoarsely. “You called Cole?”
“Yes. He gave me his blessing. He said he would be there at our wedding.”
I can’t help it. A burst of crazy laughter escapes my chest. “You called him?” I murmur, my voice incredulous. “Seriously?!” For a moment, I fear for Zack’s safety. Ex-military, rifle specialist and all, he is missing a leg, and Cole is a force to be reckoned with. At the memory of the stormy anger in my brother’s dark eyes, my heart begins to pound faster and my jaw clenches. I haven’t heard his voice in so long, and I am jealous that Zack is permitted to use a cell phone so casually. “Did you ask him why he stopped writing to me?”
“He’s been busy…” Zack begins.
“Busy!” I repeat with outrage. “He once promised that he would write to me on toilet paper, even if he didn’t have time to wipe his ass.”
Zack seems surprised at this, but he lowers his eyes. “People don’t always keep their promises, Sophie.”
“Cole does,” I say with more vehemence than I intend. “The only person who has kept every promise he’s ever made to me is my brother. And I don’t understand why he’s stopped now.”
“He said he’s not feeling well,” Zack adds hesitantly.
“Not feeling well?” I ask slowly, testing the words. Cole would have to be deathly sick to stop writing me. Even if he were, he’d surely ask his assistant to send me a message. And it’s been so long… No, the only real reason for the lack of contact must be that he’s given up on me. He’s letting go of his past and pushing me out of his life. Understandably so. I reach up to rub my forehead before sighing and moving toward the bedroom. “I’m going to get ready for work.”
“What
