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It’s easy to tell that he and Izzie had some sort of shared history, but I’m not so sure what it was.
I excuse myself abruptly, not wanting to let my emotions show or allow my jealousy to get the better of me. I’ve come to realize that Izzie and Marcos had a unique connection that I have no place in. Hands hastily stuffed in my pockets, I quicken my pace and give a polite nod to the company all gathered in the house as I hurry out the door, stumbling over the words of my rushed excuse. "Zak! You don't have to go. Stay for dinner," I hear Izzie's voice call out from behind me. I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around, looking into her eyes and wishing I could tell her how I felt. How jealousy was overwhelming me, and if I stayed, I would end up punching someone or something. I open my mouth to say something but find myself at a loss for words. Before I can come up with an appropriate answer, I hear Mel chime in. "Yes, please stay. We'd love to have you." I hesitate, torn between wanting to stay to be near Izzie and needing to leave to avoid the uncomfortable situation.
"Yeah, brother, we can all hang out together." Marcos chimes in, holding a hand over his heart. Performative spirituality too. Could he get any more insufferable? I couldn't be around this guy.
"Dave said you're Isobel's boss for the summer?" he enquires, putting a protective arm around Izzie. His use of her full name, a nickname they probably shared in their romantic times, is the last straw. I watch her squirm away from his grip. I have to leave now.
As a wave of emotions sweeps through me, I clench my fists tightly in my pockets to prevent myself from exploding in rage. After drawing a long, slow breath in and closing my eyes, the first thing that meets my gaze when I open them was Izzie. It is clear to her that I need to leave for some reason. The pleading with me to stay has become less frequent.
I mumble, "Thank you for the offer, but I think it might be better if I head off," but the words are barely audible as they leave my mouth. I can't help but sneak one more glance at Izzie before I finally pull away from her and make my way to my car. As I pull away, I make the decision to drive in the direction of Surf’s S’up. It is imperative that I get out on the water and take my mind off of the lovely blonde girl with the striking blue eyes.
Izzie
"I just can't believe you dated someone like him," he says with such disdain that it seems to seep out in between every syllable. Zak and I have moved on from cleaning the downstairs and are now upstairs plastering one of the bedrooms. Good bones, certainly, but it can still do with some love.
"You don't know me as well as you think; you don't know what I like in guys." I huff, attempting to hide my embarrassment. Marcos had acted all whiney and childish the night before, so much unlike the assertive, alpha male standing before me at the moment. How my taste in men has changed, I think to myself. The traits I had once found endearing and sweet in Marcos, I now see as boyish and immature. It’s likely Zak knows that fact too, which infuriates me no end.
Zak scoffs. "If you say so," he says, knowing all too well that I’m not fooling anybody. We continue to work side by side, stopping only for the occasional coffee or iced drinks whenever we need a break. We fall into our natural rhythm again, forgetting Marcos and the weirdness of yesterday. Forgetting the spilled paint that had miraculously been cleaned up when I got here. When I arrived, I headed straight to that room, determined to clean up my mess, but the room was spotless. I have no idea when or how he'd done it, but Zak had cleared it up for me. I don't mention it, and neither does he.
Zak whistles a tune here and there while his hands work with a sureness that is almost magical in its own way. I can feel the power emanating from him, like an unspoken reminder of his strength and capabilities. Seeing him work so efficiently is a real turn-on for me; it’s a reminder that even though he could very easily pay someone to do this for him, he has his own personal reasons to want to do this himself, and I admire that.
As the day comes to a close and the sun slowly creeps toward the horizon, I can't help being in absolute awe of the man working alongside me. It’s an awe that lives somewhere in direct contrast to my own feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy. After all, who am I to be standing next to someone like him? We carefully finish up the bedroom amid a comfortable silence, taking in the sheer beauty of the work we had done together. I certainly couldn't have done it on my own, I think to myself, and it would've taken twice as long for Zak by himself.
We sit together on the floor, taking in the progress we have made. Zak's warm, sultry eyes sweep over me curiously.
"So, you like creative types, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his lips, his irresistible, sexy brows raised in challenge. My laughter breaks the silence between us. I hold my head in my hands and groan. Our eyes meet again as I look back from the ceiling, and I find myself melting in Zak's gaze. It feels comforting to be with him here, away from the realities of our lives. It’s nice seeing Zak let go and forget about the restrictions of what makes him attractive and desirable. It’s nice seeing Zak relaxed and not caring about his looks - he would never admit it, but he’s a well-groomed man. Don't get me wrong, he does look amazing in a suit, I think, casting my mind back to the wedding. Though seeing him this way, relaxed and peaceful, makes my heart swell with warmth.
"We were together for a few years." I begin to explain the whole messy Marcos situation, my voice faltering slightly as I think of my past lover. "I-I was totally in love with him," I admit. I remember the early days of college, the anticipation, and allure of him being my first serious relationship. His mysterious persona had captivated everyone, and when he had chosen me, I felt as if it was by some divine force.
"All the girls in class wanted him," I add; Zak looks at me earnestly, not commenting, allowing me to speak.
"And," I shrug, "when he wanted me, it felt good. I felt like I'd been chosen by some kind of god," Zak scoffs.
“I’m serious!” I shuffle to the side to face Zak instead of the wall. "He was so unattainable that when he seemed to want me, I couldn't help but be captivated. He would make me different kinds of art and write me poems. He was very romantic."
I think back to all the poems and artworks he had made for me, butterflies thrumming in my stomach as I think of how he had made me feel back then. But the present image of him sours my stomach as I recall. I ignore Zaks's eye-roll at the mention of poems and continue.
"I found out he had been cheating on me," I say quietly, watching as Zak's eyes widen with surprise. "He'd been sleeping with at least one other girl throughout our relationship," I add, laughing bitterly as I remember how stupid and naive I had felt. "And he'd been giving us both the same poems, feeding us the same lines."
Zak's hand curls into a fist, and I feel a swelling in my chest when I notice. I take a shaky breath, it feels good to tell someone, and I don't want to stop sharing.
"I felt so stupid afterward, like such a silly young girl for falling for him. I really loved him too." I feel my eyes prickle. I will the tears to go away. I don't want Zak to see me cry over some loser ex-boyfriend.
Just the thought of him and his manipulation has my heart breaking all over again. I feel a warmth on my knee and looked down to see that Zak has placed his hand on me. His touch sends a spark throughout my entire body, and I can feel my sadness dissipate. With my eyes fixed on his, a wave of courage sweeps over me.
“You’re not stupid.” He speaks seriously, staring at my eyes, willing me to challenge him.
"I'm not stupid," I repeat, unsure what else to say.
"Right!" Zak announces, rising up very quickly.
“Follow me,” he calls out, bounding down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” I get up and follow. I would follow this man anywhere.
As we step out onto the ancient porch, Zak's hand takes hold of mine. I can feel the warmth of his touch radiating through me, and my heart pulsates in anticipation of what the day would bring. With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, Zak smiles down at me and silently asks, "Ready to loosen up a bit? Let's go to the beach!"
We run through the night, our shoes abandoned in the sand behind us, carried away by the excitement of the unknown. The aroma of salty air fills our lungs as we make our way along the shore, and I can feel all the stress of my life slowly washing away. Zak picks up the pace, his hand firmly gripped around mine, and before I know it, we have reached the water's edge. The playful atmosphere that surrounded us moments before suddenly changes as Zak moves even closer, pressing his lips against mine in a fervent kiss. My heart thuds in my chest, and I feel overcome with emotion. We stumble out of the ocean and onto the beach, Zak holding me in his arms, silently expressing his love.
