Roses

Chapter 41

Adam

It has been nearly two weeks since I saw that fuckface Arnie holding my girl's hand. I swear my reaction could be compared to that of a bull's upon seeing a whipping muleta.

My temper had only calmed down slightly after standing outside the bar for a ridiculous amount of time staring at her back through the glass door. I'd wanted her to come outside and talk to me, or even just turn around and acknowledge my presence in some way. But she hadn't. She probably forgot all about me the second I stepped out.

I have tried everything to get her back.

I sent her flowers, chocolates and jewelry. When she didn't even unblock my contact, I realized she didn't care about any of those things. So I started sending her books. No way in hell she'd receive a book from me and not feel at least something in her heart.

Hardcovers. Paperbacks. Unpublished manuscripts of authors she's a fan of. I sent them all. Hell, at this rate, it would only make sense if I send her a bookshelf too. Maybe I will.

But what did I hear from her in return? Nothing. Nada.

I'm still blocked. She still doesn't want to see my face. She still hates me.

She doesn't know it but when I was on my work trip all those weeks ago, I met up with all the publishing agents I'd, uhm, bribed or threatened to reject her work. It was far too easy to get the ban I'd had placed on her lifted.

I planned to get her to send her work out again after she finished her book, even though she didn't want to because she was scared of facing another rejection. But we never got to that. So I had all those agents reach out to her directly a couple days ago.

Honestly, I understand why she didn't react to any of the gifts. But this? This is fucking different. This isn't a gift I sent to please her. I wanted her to see I would go to any length to reverse the extent of hurt I'd caused her over the years. How can she not see I'm fucking desperate to earn her forgiveness?

If anything, I expected her to hunt me down and yell at my face that she didn't need me to advance in her career. I think it goes to show how starved I am of her attention that I would gladly take even her wrath at this point.

But her response is silence. Again.

I look up to the ceiling of my car and groan. What if nothing is ever enough for her? What if she has truly moved on? Pain slices through my chest at those thoughts. And I feel fucking crazy. Like a rabid dog chasing cars.

A part of me thinks this is karma or some shit. I planned to break her and now I'm breaking every single day. I can't change what I've already done, but repentance has to help. My torment will end some day, right?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Get it together. I can't lose hope. Focusing on the task at hand, I look outside my window at the high walls around the state prison.

If there's one thing I can say for sure after living through the last few weeks of my life, it's that you never really know what cards someone has. I made the mistake of thinking I knew everything once. I won't make it twice.

There is one player in Zoey and I's story who has remained unaccounted for for far too long. It's time to change that.

I get out of my car and walk up to the double gates. A security guard glances at me from his office on my left side.

"I'm here to see Robert Kirby."

Ten minutes later, he and I sit on either side of a glass partition, staring at each other. I remember thinking that Zoey is her mother's clone but it is only now that I realize she and her father barely have anything in common. He has dirty blonde hair that has been cut short, and dull brown eyes.