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He’s good, or maybe I’m just that pathetic.
I shake my head. “Is our neighborhood safe for nighttime runs?”
Dominik chews carefully, deciding to let me drop the former conversation.
“No. Use the building’s gym if you want to workout at night. It’s safe and open 24/7.”
“It’s not the same as running outside.”
“No. Because it’s safe.”
I shrug. “What’s the fun in that?”
He pops the last bite into his mouth, crumpling up the foil and throwing it into a nearby trash bin.
A runner whizzes by me just then, stealing my attention toward the grassy park. A toddler is chasing a dog, his contagious laugh filling the air around us. I can’t help but smile. The sound of a baby laughing instantly brings me joy. Maybe it’s the innocence in their voice or the unfiltered happiness on their face. Life hasn’t had a chance to dim their light yet, and something about that just brings me hope. Knowing they have more time.
“Do you enjoy being frightened?” he whispers, sending a chill down my back.
“What?”
His hand grasps my elbow, stopping me from taking another step. Dom stares at me with a pinched expression.
“Promise me you won’t go running late at night in New York. It’s a different city; there are more people, and a lot more crime. Let someone know if you want to go for a night run.”
I shouldn’t have said anything. “Okay, sure.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay.”
He sighs out his relief, really looking the part of giving-a-shit. “Thank you, Zoe.”
I roll my eyes, unable to stop myself. “Not sure why you’ve decided you care all of a sudden. You’ve been great at avoiding me all my life.”
My words cause him to flinch, and he drops my elbow, taking a step back. Anger is quickly replaced by dejection, as if I dropped a bucket of ice-cold water all over him. My heart sinks, and I open my mouth to apologize, but he speaks before I have a chance to.
“Just because I wasn’t there, it doesn’t mean I didn’t care, Zo. I’ve always cared about you. More than I should have,” he utters almost too softly. The words strike me with such force, each one stronger than the next, as they land directly in the middle of my chest.
More than he should have? Meaning what, exactly?
We’re interrupted by the sound of Dom’s phone as he quickly fishes it out of his pocket, cursing to himself before remembering I’m standing in front of him.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
He places the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Coach.”
Dominik walks away, and I replay his words in my mind a thousand times. Yet, with each repetition, I’m left more confused than before. I don’t understand why I allow people’s words to gnaw at me, why I obsess over them when they don’t hold as much weight for others. Words linger for hours, days, weeks...even years.
I’m cursed with feeling too intensely and overanalyze every aspect of life. Even in moments of numbness, I experience it with my whole being, allowing it to engulf me completely until there is only emptiness remaining.
The cab ride back home is quiet. It’s only quarter past four, but we have to head back since Dom’s coach wants to see him immediately. I don’t ask questions, and he doesn’t fill me in. It must be some sort of hockey emergency if he has to go in right away. I’m staring out the window, watching people hurriedly walk down the sidewalks. Others are stepping out, trying to hail cabs. Purpose, drive, and motivation guide these people. And I’m over here with nowhere to go and no one to see. No purpose. No direction. Just here passing time.
“I’m sorry we had to leave,” Dominik says, cracking his knuckles as nervous energy fills the quiet cab.
“It’s okay. I understand. It’s work.”
His eyes lock onto mine.
