We Can Try
02: My Confession to The Crimes of Wanting You Badly
Five Years Earlier
July 2011
It’s a stormy night here in Los Angeles. The storm has brought in heavy rains and high winds, earlier there were even reports of hail. It was a much-needed rain, but as I lay on the couch watching television and eating potato chips, I couldn’t help but wish Tobias was with me. I feel lonely – Tobias has been gone on a work trip for a week already and won’t be back for another eight days. I flip back and forth from the local weather channel to a Hallmark movie, not really paying attention to either one.
My phone vibrates against the coffee table in front of me. I reach for it eagerly, hoping it’s from Tobias and grin when I see his picture on my phone. I accept the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey baby, I can’t talk long. I’m in a meeting but I just wanted to step out for a moment and call you. I got a notification that it’s storming there,” Tobias tells me.
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, but it should start dying down here soon. How’s your meeting?”
“Boring,” he replies. “I’m missing you.”
“I miss you too. Any chance you get to come home early?” I ask him hopefully.
“I hope so, but I make no promises,” Tobias tells me, and I frown. “Babe, I have to go. I’ll try to call you when I get out of this meeting.”
I sigh into the phone. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too. Oh – hey, don’t forget to take your antibiotic, alright?”
“Okay. I won’t. Bye.”
“Bye, baby.”
I hang up the phone and sit on the couch, pouting. Reminding myself that after this work trip, Tobias will be home for majority of the rest of the year, I hop off the couch and head to the bathroom. Almost two weeks ago I got strep throat and was prescribed some antibiotics. If it was up to me, I would have stopped using the antibiotics once the infection went away, but Tobias has been making sure I continue following the doctor’s orders. I open the cabinet behind the mirror and reach for my bottle of antibiotics between my birth control and aspirin. I open the bottle and pour the last pill into my hand before tossing the bottle into the trash.
I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, popping the pill into my mouth and then swallowing a mouthful of water as I head back to the couch. I pick up my phone and unlock it, scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed.
Four years ago, when I changed my name back to Sheridan Davis things felt weird. Most people in my life at the time knew me as Sutton and instead of telling each and every person individually, I decided to just make a Facebook account. It was the easiest and laziest way of telling everyone I knew that I was going by Sheridan again, just add everyone I know and then make the announcement.
I scroll past a photo and then go back. It’s a photo of Valary, Michelle and Gena posted an hour ago. Michelle and Val look absolutely stunning, and even though I don’t want to admit it, Gena does, too. The caption reads, “Gena and Zack's rehearsal dinner! #BakerWedding”. My throat tightens but I ignore it as I close the app. I was happy that Zack was happy. No matter what happened between us in the past, I believe he deserves happiness. The part of me that still loved him – that would always love him – however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. I close my eyes and listen to the movie in the background and the noise from the storm.
The next thing I know, there’s a beating at my door. I jump up, think it was a dream at first. The credits to the movie are rolling and the storm is still raging on. I’m reaching for the remote when I hear the banging again.
“What the fuck?” I mumble. I sneak to the front door, grabbing the gun I have hidden in the drawer on the way there. I unlock the door, and open it, dropping the gun as I come face to face with the man that was banging on the door.
“Jesus, Sheridan! Please tell me the safety on that thing is on!” Zack exclaims. “God Damn, I know things ended badly between us but you’re really going to shoot me?”
I’m already scooping the gun up off the floor. It was really used for a scare tactic since it’s not even loaded, and it’s a good thing too since Zack surprised me enough to make me drop it. “Zack, what are you doing here? Isn’t your rehearsal dinner tonight?”
Zack is completely drenched, his clothes dripping freely onto my dry and covered porch. “Yeah…” he answers quietly, walking through my door. I notice a bottle of Jack Daniels in his fingers. “Is Tobias home?”
“Zack, I haven’t talked to you since we broke up. What are you doing here? How did you even know how to find my house?”
Zack shrugs, sitting on the couch. I wince at the thought of his soaked body sitting on my couch cushions, but don’t say anything. He opens the bottle of whiskey and brings it to his lips. “I may or may not have gotten it out of Valary’s phone. She used to keep this address book back when we first started touring and she acted as tour manager. Well, old habits die hard I guess because she fills out every field in her contacts on her phone. Social media name, birthday, address…”
“Okay…why?”
Zack is taking another gulp of whiskey. “I don’t know why she does it. I guess just in case she needs it? I –”
“No, Zack,” I run my hand through my hair. “Why did you steal my address out of her phone? Why are you here?”
Zack doesn’t answer me. He gets up from the couch and walks into the kitchen. I follow behind him quietly, half curious-half confused as to what he’s up to. He begins searching my cabinets, and eventually finds what he’s looking for. Silently, he pulls out two glasses and then fills them both halfway up with Jack. He slides one over to me. “Like you said, it’s the night before my wedding.”
I raise a brow, eyeing the glass of whiskey. “Well…congratulations but you should have stayed in Huntington Beach if you wanted to celebrate. I’m not really in a celebrating mood.”
“Why not?” He asks me. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
I take a deep breath and swallow a gulp of whiskey. “There. I drank it; you can go now.”
“Oh, come on, Sheridan. You can’t still be mad at me because of what happened? I’m sorry, okay? I was an ass and…I’m sorry.”
I sigh and drink the rest of the whiskey from my glass. “It’s fine, Zack. I’ve been over that for…years now. But you should really be in Huntington Beach and sober.”
“Yeah,” Zack says, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “You’re right.” He drains the entire glass. I watch Zack as he refills his glass. There’s a type of sadness to him but I can’t quite put my finger on it. He won’t look at me as he drains the second glass.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” I ask him gently.
Zack opens his mouth like he’s going to reply to me but closes it before a word can escape. He grabs his glass and the bottle of Jack before walking out of the kitchen. I follow him into the living room and sit next to him on the couch.
“I can’t marry her,” he mumbles, draining his glass again. He stares into the bottom of his glass, still refusing to look at me.
“You’re just having those pre-wedding nerves. It’s normal. Look, let me grab my keys and I’ll drive you back to Huntington Beach.”
“It’s not pre-wedding nerves,” Zack tells me as I stand from the couch. “It’s something I’ve known for some time. Everyone knows she’s not the one I'm meant to marry. Some people say it with their eyes, others actually say it.”
I furrow my brows and sit next to him on the couch. “Zack, I’m sure it’s all in your head. Plus, it’s not the other people that are going to be in this marriage. Just you and Gena – that’s all that matters. If you’re happy with her then –”
“I should be marrying you.” Finally, Zack looks at me.
I stare at him, thinking this must be some sort of joke but I can tell in Zack's eyes that he’s not joking. I grab the now-half empty bottle of Jack from my hands and bring it to my lips.
Zack turns away from me and studies his hands. I swallow another mouthful of whiskey. “I’m sorry, Sheridan. I shouldn’t have come here.” He stands up and takes a couple of steps to my front door before I can get my mouth to work.
“Zack,” I call out. It comes out soft and, to my surprise, pleadingly. “You’ve been drinking.”
Zack turns, shaking his head. “Sheridan, I’m fine. I can drive home. I drove here, didn’t I?”
“Maybe so, but you’ve been drinking since you’ve arrived,” I tell him, standing up and walking over to him. “Stay. I can sober you up and…we can talk.”
Zack doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t move either. “Do you want to marry me?”
I force a laugh, hoping it comes out naturally. “See, look how drunk you are! You’ve kind of already proposed to someone else. Your wedding is tomorrow, remember?”
Zack groans. “Come on, Sheridan. I’m being serious.”
“I am too, Zack!” I sigh. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve been drinking too much and…you’ve just got cold feet, that’s all. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“I won’t feel better tomorrow!” Zack says loudly. “God, Sheridan. I love you, not Gena. I am supposed to be marrying you tomorrow, not Gena!”
“Zack…”
Zack isn’t listening. “I know I’ve fucked things up in the past but…you have always been the one for me. I was too stupid and scared to see it before.”
I walk back over to the couch and sit down, running my hand through my hair. “Zack, we haven’t talked in years. You can’t be feeling this way.”
Zack is at my feet now. He sits on his knees on the floor in front of me, looking broken and vulnerable. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel what’s between us. You can’t tell me that, deep inside you know you and I are meant to be together. We’ve both made mistakes in the past. But we are older now, Sheridan. I’m not that guy you knew five years ago. I’ve grown up since then – I’ve lost my brother, I’ve learned to appreciate the people around me and I haven’t touched anything but cigarettes and pot for a year. Just say you want me. Say you love me.”
“Of course, I love you, Zack. I always have but…”
“But what? What else matters than that? You can’t seriously tell me that you love Tobias more than you love me – just like I can’t tell you I love Gena more than I love you.”
“Zack, you know things are more complicated than that. You and I have history, so it’s understandable why you come to me when you’re having not-so-sure feelings about tomorrow but…you’ve got to be realistic about this. If you’re not happy with Gena, then you need to explain that to her. You can’t just come here and talk about marrying me. You don’t even know who I am anymore – just like I don’t know who you are.”
“You realize none of those words were ‘yes, Zack, I love him more than you’, right?”
I sigh. “Will it make you go home and talk to your fiancé if I say it?”
Zack shakes his head. “No. Even if you do say it, I know it’s not true.” Zack's hands rest on my outer thighs; I can smell the whiskey on his breath. In a way, he seems less broken, cockier – like a shell of the man I once knew and loved. Like the man I still love.
It takes everything I have to move away from him. I slide off the couch, scooping up the bottle of Jack and Zack's empty glass, heading to the kitchen. My plan is to dispose of it, but once the kitchen door shuts behind me and Zack doesn’t follow, I bring it to my lips. Ignoring the burn, I chug as much as I can before my body can no longer handle the taste. I spit my last mouthful into the sink and my stomach lurches forward, but I’m able to keep the vomit down.
An hour ago, everything was so simple and now, not only was the rug pulled from out underneath my feet, but it was drenched in whiskey and set on fire. The fire alarms are going off in my head, but I can’t remember the emergency escape route.
The kitchen door opens slowly and reveals Zack. “Sheridan,” he says, just as I say his name. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, maybe he’s waiting for me to say something first but I'm not entirely sure what to say to him. “Sheridan,” he repeats, “I’m sorry for coming to you like this – out of the blue, dropping word-bombs on you. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Gena – I know that and I’m sorry.” He’s slowly making his way to me.
I don’t look at him. I can’t because I feel weakened by his presence, vulnerable even. The whiskey is burning my stomach, but I ignore it. “You should go talk to Gena,” I tell him.
“I will,” he tells me softly, “but just because I admit I went about this in the wrong way doesn’t mean that I didn’t mean what I said.”
I shake my head. “You’re drunk, Zack.”
“Yes. I still mean what I said.”
I look at him for the first time. He still looks the same as he did when we were teenagers. He doesn’t wear makeup or eyeliner anymore and he has taken out his nose and lip piercings. He nibbles at his bottom lip as he watches me and I know what he wants me to say next and I want to. I want to tell him how much I love and miss him, but I can’t forget about the heartbreak I went through because of him, about the humiliation and the nights I cried myself to sleep wondering why I wasn’t good enough for him.
However, for every bad memory I had with Zack, there were two amazing and loving memories. Like when we went and got our tattoos and our first date. The smile he had when he drunkenly made me come out on stage and announce to the sea of fans that I was the most beautiful girl in the world. The first time he told me he loved me, the moment I realized that I loved him.
My phone starts to ring in the living room. I don’t say anything but walk past Zack to head out of the kitchen. Zack has a different plan, though, and grabs my hand, pulling me back and into him. He kisses me but it only lasts a moment before I pull away, slapping him as hard as I can. I stare at him, too angry to form words and expect him to get angry too, but he doesn’t. He just continues to stare at me, his thumb makes small circles on the back of my hand.
As I stare at him I can physically feel the bricks of the wall I built many years ago begin to chip away. My heart begins to flutter and spark from the kiss must have joined forces with the whiskey inside of me because suddenly, I feel like I am on fire – a feeling I haven’t felt since the last time I shared a kiss with Zack.
I pull him back down to my lips, desperate to keep feeding the fire. Zack wastes no time kissing me back. His hand finds itself tangled in my hair as he gently nibbles at my lip. He lifts me up, gently and sits me on the counter. The wet from Zack's clothes begins to seep through my own dry clothes as he presses his body against mine. He kisses my jaw and neck and collarbone before finding my lips again.
“I love you,” he whispers in between kisses. “I want you. I want you in every possible way. Marry me.”
Logic and dignity are lost. The words are out before my brain even knows what I’m saying. “I love you, too. Yes.”
Zack grins, kissing me more before pulling me off the counter. He takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen and down the hall. He starts kissing me again and we find ourselves in the bedroom. I’m unbuttoning Zack's wet dress shirt as he’s pushing down my pants. Zack pulls off my shirt, too, before gently pushing me onto the bed.
The next morning, I can tell is going to be perfect already. I’m woken by the chirping of birds, something you don’t get to hear much in the middle of Los Angeles traffic and commotion. My head doesn’t pound, despite the large amounts of alcohol I consumed, and I feel at peace. I close my eyes, roll over onto my back and begin searching the other side of the bed for Zack. All my hand finds is the empty condom wrapper, and I frown, listening for any activity in the house. As I open my eyes, I remember Zack and I didn’t use a condom last night and look at the paper between my fingers. On one side, there’s a receipt for a convenience store in Huntington Beach for $50 in gas and a bottle of water. On the other side, there’s a note. It only has two words.
I’m sorry.
- Z
Notes
Thank you Holly, Kimmy, countzackula6661 and overneaththepathofmisery for commenting!
Title credit: .Between the Trees “Darlin'"
I've been waiting so long for an update. I really hope everything is well. Update soon!!
7/20/19