Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I sent it.
And it turns out the good ol' gut is worth something after all because Zoe cashed it.
All one hundred thousand dollars of it.
It’s been over a month since that tree just about came down on the cabin. As it turns out, the lodge owners were really worried and super apologetic. The old thing had been giving the camp problems for a while, and they’d never gotten around to cutting it down. It really could have crashed right through the cabin. They felt awful about almost killing me (they didn’t know Zoe was there since I kept that to myself), so they gave me a fifty percent discount on the whole trip.
Zoe once told me I could have hired a private investigator to look her up or find her or whatever, so it gave me an idea.
I have to admit I went through with it even after telling myself it was a pretty shady thing to do. I hired a guy who gave me the details. Like where Zoe’s living and the school she enrolled in. She’s starting her vet-tech course, just like she said she would, which is why I sent her the cheque. I didn’t want her bombarded with student loans, and also, maybe I felt a little bit guilty. I messed up her life in more than one way. But it’s not just all guilt. I sincerely do want to help her. There are pretty limited ways I can do that, but giving her the cash she needed to pay for her rent and bills and tuition was one of them. I didn’t think she’d take it, but she did.
She used the money to enroll in training so she might make other’s lives better. Zoe’s just like that. She’s kind, and her heart is huge. It’s what gives me hope that there might, one day, be room for me in it. Eventually, she might change her mind. I want to believe her reaction that day at the cabin was just pure panic. She was feeling things, I was feeling things, and sometimes, people lose their shit a little. It doesn’t mean she meant all, or at least part, of what she said.
So all I can do is wait.
I told her I would, and I have. In short, it seriously sucked. Losing Zoe frightens me more than losing everything I’ve worked so hard for—the companies, all my money, my property. Everything. I already let her go once. Can I really do it again? Or maybe the question isn’t if I can. Perhaps it’s should I? Waiting and hoping—for a man who drove himself hard all his life, a self-made man—is hard. It’s hard for a man of action to do absolutely nothing.
I feel haunted. All I’ve done is go over and over that conversation we had in the cabin that day. Maybe I should have pushed her a little harder, pushed back, begged. Ultimately, I know I can’t force her into making a decision she doesn’t want to make, but maybe I should have fought harder. I didn’t want to hurt her, and I wanted to give her time, but maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe she thinks I didn’t really care after all. I don’t know. It’s confusing.
I can’t even count how many times Zoe has hijacked my thoughts since I saw her last. Now, I know she’s going to haunt every single one of my days, no matter how I try and put her from my mind or how busy I try and make myself. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t shut it off, and I can’t just forget. I also can’t pretend like it never happened—any of it. Our few weeks together and the years we shared when we were younger.
I know I could do more. I could push myself harder at work and drive myself, acquire more, and make more money. Always more, but for what purpose? Suddenly, everything just feels ultimately empty.
And I know why. It’s the whole priorities thing. They’ve changed.
Instead of thinking about how to add to my empire, I’m thinking about the exact shade of Zoe’s eyes and the tattoo on her hip. The one she never removed even though she swore she did. Zoe came into my life when we were just kids, but she left her mark on me in more ways than the crudely inked Z I have on my own hip.
After weeks of waiting, I almost cave and ask my mom for advice, but I don’t, only because I’m certain Zoe wouldn’t appreciate me blabbing about what happened between us without her permission. If I had a neutral friend who didn’t know her, I might have asked them what in the heck I should be doing, but after going through a mental list of names and faces, it made me realize how few close friends I actually have. I know lots of people, but no one who I would go to for advice about something like this.