After Zac's memories came back full force, together, my man and I convinced his mom that our love was too real to be ignored, and she permitted Zac move to DC so we could continue dating without having to deal with the pitfalls of a long distance relationship.

A month following my move to DC, my dad and his team managed to put the finishing touches on their investigation. Harvey Waldron, Aleah's mom, Vince's dad, and Madison's dad were arrested, prosecuted, and found guilty as hell. All of them were now keeping Zac's dad company in Otisville.

Meanwhile, my dad went into remission after only one round of chemo. Bea, Trick, and I grew closer than ever thanks to our fresh start in DC. My stepmother, Andrea, was practically a saint, and I came to appreciate her for the effort she put into bridging the initial awkwardness between my siblings and I.

Despite my abrupt transfer in the middle of the year from Ashton Wellesley to Emerson High, I somehow managed to grind my way into the top spot at my new school by the end of junior year. Nat, Amari, and I were already planning a girls' trip to Europe this summer as a graduation present to ourselves. I contacted Dr. Williams, and she invited us to stay with her for a few days in Hamburg.

I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised that a student who possessed my range of talent and achievement was accepted to all the top tier universities I applied to, including Stanford. After graduating summa cum laude from Stanford, I became a successful lawyer and lived happily ever after with—

With fucking no one.

Because this bullshit-driven narrative only existed in my wildest fantasies.

Because reality was one mean motherfucker.

Thankfully, though, so was I.

At night, my subconscious continually dreamt up these brutally optimistic scenarios. I often awoke in the morning with wetness on my cheeks and pillow. The contrast between the foolish desires of my psyche and the harshness of real life was far too great. In a matter of days, the boy I admired, desired, and loved with my whole fucking heart had been wrenched from me on all fronts. Physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Somehow, though, my unruly organ kept beating. Breath continued to enter and exit my lungs in slow, painful drags. From minute to minute and hour to hour, I focused on these primitive biological functions to remind myself that I was still alive.

No matter how much of a mean motherfucker I tried to be, I'd be lying if I said that getting completely cut off from Zac didn't almost break me. Perhaps, the sole reason I remained intact was because I refused to give in. I refused to give into the possibility that my beautiful amber-eyed boy might be out of my reach for the foreseeable future. Maybe even forever.

After I seemingly triggered Zac's horrific meltdown in the hospital, his mother nixed my visitation privileges, and the staff barred me from entering the patient's wing at Wellesley-Newton. Believe it or not, I didn't charge back the very next day to bribe, wheedle, or kiss Ms. Pietersen's ass into letting me see her son. I chose to embark down a drastically different path, a far more agonizing path, than the one I instinctively coveted because it felt like the right thing to do.

Doctors said Zac needed more time to recover. I believed this, too. He needed time to process these perplexing new circumstances without me there to remind him of the memories that his mind wanted him to forget.

The savagery from his outburst left a deep impression on me. I never again wanted to see Zac fall into such a frenzied state of desperation on my behalf. This was why I decided to give him a grace period of, at least, a month before making any attempts to reveal any details about our relationship or the dark, twisted secrets we uncovered about his dad.

Damned if it didn't hurt like hell, though.

Zac had since left the rolling green hills and mega mansions of Wellesley. He was back in the concrete jungle of the city that never slept with his mother. I came across this information after "gifting" a dozen donuts and a twenty dollar Starbucks gift card to Wyatt. The cantankerous old nurse took pity on me. He shared that my boyfriend was making a smooth recovery, and that Dr. Zhang had discharged Zac a few days ago. Although, Wyatt warned that Zac was still in no condition to take on any additional stressors. I understood full well that his warning had been aimed at me.

From there, I tried texting Zac, calling him, to check on his recovery status—only to find that his old line had been disconnected. Grimly, I'd wondered if this had been his mother's doing.

Fortunately, the universe must have been smiling down on me that day because, as I attempted to reach Zac via his social media accounts, he also happened to text me from a brand new number. It felt a little like kismet.

Hey, Zac... how are you?

helloooo cate.... its ya boy... zac mazur!!! thanks for all your help after my accident. sorry if i scared you off last time you came to hospital.

My heart fluttered with excitement as Zac replied to my DM the same time I answered his text.

oh heyyyy girl!! i just texted you from my new number. im as well as i can be i guess. started phys therapy a few days ago... and my brain's still fried because i don't remember shit from the past few months. anyway, enough about me... how are you??? still kicking ass and breaking hearts at ashton wellesley i assume??? :)

For a microsecond, I wondered how his mother might have explained away my sudden exit from his life. Out of respect for their mother and son relationship as well as Zac's overall peace of mind, I chose not to stir up unnecessary drama by shoving Ms. Pietersen under the bus.

For now.

I was happy to help. Sorry I disappeared before we had a chance to say goodbye. The end of semester is pretty chaotic for me. And, don't worry, there's nothing you can do to scare me. :P

After a few more lines of small talk and witty banter, we abandoned IG altogether and switched to texting instead. This was when Zac led our conversation into minefield territory.

so... ive been meaning to ask you... why did you kiss me that day i woke up?

I left him on read for a good hour as I stewed over a proper response.

Finally, I typed back.

Yeah. About that. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done it. I got carried away in the moment. I was so excited to see you wake up. It was a celebratory kiss. Nothing more.

i see

He texted me again before I could respond.

maybe we should celebrate together more often??? ;)

Happiness spiked through me as I read his suggestively playful response, but I was also scared that, if I didn't set some boundaries, soon, Zac would start firing questions at me that he wasn't ready to face—not this early on in his healing process, anyway—and I wanted to avoid fibbing or outright lying to my boyfriend as much as possible. Again, I arrived at the conclusion that the only way to achieve this balance was to keep a friendly but definitive distance between us.

Haha. Maybe after I survive my finals. But I'm going to be pretty busy over the next few weeks. If you don't hear from me right away, please know that it's nothing personal. I hope you'll keep updating me on your recovery progress, though. I care about you as a friend, Zac. I really do. :)

awwww friendzoned already? :(

For now, yes. ;)

for now, eh? got it, not all hope is lost ;)

Despite Zac's shameless and relentless flirting over the next month, I managed to keep my walls up by leaving him on read for hours at a time and sometimes failing to respond to his messages until a day or two later. As the days dragged on, his response times gradually began to lag and fade in frequency like mine.

Unbeknownst to Zac, however, I continued to check his social media accounts religiously because I missed him so damn much—Instagram, Snapchat, and even Facebook—but never once did he post an update. I even started stalking some of his friends and classmates from New York to see if any of them might post some info on his comings and goings.

This was when I stumbled upon a pretty girl named Ashlynn Evans. With blue eyes and beachy blonde tresses, she was the epitome of SoCal sunshine wrapped in human form. From her IG account, I deduced two positives and one very troubling development in regards to Zac.

Positive—

From the pictures I saw of Zac on Ashlynn's profile, he seemed to be doing well. My beautiful boy was smirking in all of her photos and looking very much like his usual happy-go-lucky, smartass self. The haunted shadows in Zac's golden eyes had faded from sight, and suddenly I understood why his mother was choosing to keep him in a world built on untruths instead of propelling him into the dark abyss where reality was so much more painful.

Positive—

Shortly after they returned to Manhattan, Zac's mother had admitted him to a fairly exclusive and resort-like depression rehab facility called The Iris-Cowan Center. They boasted an internet-free environment, which probably explained his lack of activity online, that focused on expanding one's mind, body, and spiritual wellness through a blend of scientific and holistic methods. Their website bio sounded a little hokey to me, but I was glad that Zac was getting the support he needed from professionals.

Troubling—

Ashlynn had since posted three pictures on IG with Zac along with a number of sickeningly cute Snaps together, which meant that she was visiting him at the rehab center regularly... which meant that she probably liked him... or that he probably liked her... which meant that I was royally fucked either way.

I tried not to obsess over the fact that, without his memories of me, Zac would have no reason to stop himself from falling for a nice, sweet girl like Ashlynn. Hell, without his memories, he would have no reason to ever look in my direction again if they started dating!

The ball was in my court.

I was so tempted at this point to end my self-inflicted purgatory and call up the dumbass to spill all the piping hot tea from the past few months. Clearly, my boyfriend needed a friendly reminder to keep his hands to himself and his dick in his pants. As much as jealousy gnawed at me, I knew better than to hold it against Zac. I simply wanted to talk to my boyfriend, not so I could yell at him for making eyes at another girl, but to feel connected to him again and hear his voice and ask him about his day and then tell him about mine.

Unfortunately, sentiments like these leaned closer to wishful thinking than an actual executable plan. Life was, indeed, as Dr. Williams once pointed out to me. Always in flux, and fate didn't stop to sympathize just because a teenage girl felt like she was about to buckle under the weight of her heartache.

Around this time, I also experienced a whiplash-inducing number of changes in my life, and, as much as I wanted to forgo everything and everyone else around me for the sake of love, I simply couldn't devote 100% of my time or effort into salvaging my relationship with Zac at this point in time.

In a very convoluted way, this became my saving grace.