Eight months.
It’s been eight months since I came too close to losing my life. I think I have turned things around. I’m in no way a new person, but I like who I’m becoming. Onto a new chapter or maybe a brand-new book. These pages are empty. I have the chance to type goodbye to the old Zeke and hello to Z 2.0. The new version of someone I want to live with for the rest of my life. If I get something wrong, I’m allowed to change it.
As the ferry gets closer to Seattle, my hands begin to sweat. I have a couple of places to visit before I go home. The first one is to pick up the keys to my new home. I haven’t seen my apartment. Hannah chose it for me. Last week, when we set up my release date, I asked her to help me with that. She suggested a house close to hers. Though it would be cool to live close to her, I chose to live in Seattle.
Location is key. I’m going to be close to my new therapist, my sponsor, and the academy, where I hope to land a job teaching music. That’s right, I’ve decided that I like to teach.
While I was in rehab taking music therapy, I ended up teaching music to several residents. It was fulfilling. That means no Zeke J. Hutchence Esq. or J.D. Among other things, I learned that though I’m good at spotting loopholes, understanding contracts, and litigating, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life doing that.
As a teacher, I’m promised a miniscule salary but a fulfilling life. Thank fuck for the trust my mother left me. I have enough money to support myself for the rest of my life. I don’t need to get a master’s degree or a corporate job to claim her assets.
I spend most of the trip journaling, sketching the mountains, and writing down all my thoughts. It still feels useless while I do it, but afterward, I feel accomplished. It’s weird to explain, but to my brain, it makes sense.
There are some new habits I’ve developed that help me stay calm. Journaling, meditating before breakfast, sucking lollipops, and drinking tea. Listen, I’m aware that they’re different. If I describe my morning routine anyone would think, is he sixty? That’s such a banal misconception. If people spent their morning routine doing some self-care their lives would change drastically.
I could do a few guest articles for one of Nana’s magazines, Life, Health, & Love. Not that I’ll offer because she might take it the wrong way and will try to shove me into an office to work for her. Writing down my thoughts is an exercise I do for myself. I don’t plan on sharing any of it.
When I climb into the cab that’s taking me to my next destination, my stomach drops. Maybe I’m not ready to be in the city. What if I stay in Luna Harbor or Silverthorne Bay forever? They have schools. I can become a private tutor for both towns. That can be my new life, right?
When the car stops in front of the HANNETH tower, my pulse accelerates into warp speed.
I pay the guy before getting out of the car. Carrying my duffle bag, I step inside the office building. I take a moment to reach inside my duffle bag, grab the bag with dried lavender and smell it, taking a deep cleansing breath. This visit isn’t only to pick up my keys. I’m here to apologize for everything that I’ve done wrong.
And also, to set up boundaries.
As I enter, the security guy follows me with his gaze. Once I reach the reception, he marches toward it. The woman behind the desk gives me a glance over and looks at the security guy before asking, “May I help you, sir?”
Whenever I’ve come to the tower, I’ve dressed in a suit or at least a blazer because we have to look the part as owners of this company. Today I’m wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals. My hair is longer than usual, but I’m not going to apologize to these people for looking like myself.
I hand her my driver’s license. “I’m here to see Hannah and Ethan.”
The guard snatches the driver’s license away from my hand. “Who?”
A stab of anger fuels my insides. I hate when these rent-a-cops feel entitled to treat everyone like crap. “Ms. Hades and Mr. Killion.” I give him a hard look. My voice is firm and loud.
He grabs the phone and pushes some numbers.
The woman says, “You can’t see them unless you have an appointment. Do you?”
I roll my eyes, grab my cell, and dial Hannah’s number.
“We were just talking about you,” Hannah answers excitedly. “When can I see you?”
“When the stupid security guard and the judgy receptionist let me go upstairs.” My heavy glare lands on them. “I’m pretty sure they’re about to call the police to throw me in jail for entering this prestigious building. I had no idea the tower was guarded like a castle.”
“Ugh, I’ll fix that right now. Don’t move from there,” she says.
I don’t wait for long. In less than a minute, Clint is making his way toward us. The guard grins and says, “This is the man.”
“Hutchence,” Clint greets me, giving me a hug. “You look good, kid.”
“Better than you, old man,” I joke, patting his shoulder. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Same. I see you’re already causing trouble,” he jokes, then looks at the people who received me and says, “You two are dismissed.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dismissed,” Clint repeats. “Mr. Killion asked me to let you go. Your last paycheck should arrive in the mail.”
“I’d say that’s over the top, but we can’t have someone like him in the company,” I agree.
Clint tilts his head toward the elevator bank. “They’re waiting for you upstairs.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll see you around.”
When I arrive at the top floor, my feet feel like two heavy tinder blocks. I not only have a hard time walking but also breathing. When I turn around the corner, I see her. One shoulder leans against the doorframe and her welcoming smile brightens the hallway. My body is lighter, and I run toward her.
I pick her up and twirl her around. “Nana!”
“Look at you all grown up, dressed like an executive and with a fancy office,” I tease her.
“There’s another one for you.”
I set her down. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it, but thank you for the offer.”
She drags me inside her office and pushes me toward her leather couch. “I missed you so much. I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”
“Almost two,” I agree. “You left on your long journey and then…”
“You took a journey of your own.”
I collapse against her leather couch, my head leaning on the back. I close my eyes briefly. “If you want to call it that.”
She takes my hands with hers and squeezes them. “How are you doing?”
“I’m learning to live again,” I explain, finally looking at her.
In a letter that Ethan sent me, he told me that he didn’t mention my relapse and the unexpected hospital trip. One of my new resolutions is to stop lying, so I tell her what happened to me.
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” She frowns and shakes her head. “I love him, but I swear every time he confesses one of his lies, I get so mad at him.”
I scowl. “Wait, what do you mean confessing his lies?”
She takes a deep breath and says, “Did you know he was in the closet?”