She drew a shuddering breath and looked both ways before she crossed the busy street. She was heading to find Zayan earlier thantheir arranged time. They usually met in the early evenings. She had to tell him that their love would need to wait. That she… wasn’t ready—not yet.
Her spiraling thoughts shattered into disbelief the moment she rounded the corner. Pain swept through her when she almost bumped into the couple who were locked in a passionate embrace.
Zayan—the man-boy who swore he loved her—was wrapped around a girl in a white dress. He was holding a suitcase in one hand.
He wasn’t just kissing the girl, he was repeating words he had spoken toher.
Dani listened, her heart silently breaking, as he whispered words of love, sharing promises of grand adventures together. Familiar words that she could have repeated almost verbatim.
Her breath shuddered when his hand curled around the girl’s waist, and she watched with growing anger as he laughed and called the girlazizi—his darling.
All of it had been rehearsed. Practiced,she realized with growing disillusion.
Dani backed away, slipping back along the street she had just emerged from. She pressed her fist to her mouth. She wouldn’t cry.
Instead, she followed Zayan—learning, and growing wiser. By early evening, she had watched him woo a girl from Sweden, another from Canada, and two boys, one from Germany and the other from France. All tourists. All spellbound.
Each one, thinking he or she were the only one.
Later that night, she arrived a few minutes early and waited across from where she and Zayan normally met. She watched him with a critical eye. He paused in front of a window. Her nose wiggled with disdain when he sprayed mouth freshener into his mouth and ran a comb through his black hair.
Her eyes narrowed when another handsome young man walked up to him. It was obvious what they were talking about from the way they were laughing.
Probably comparing notes.
Her lips curved into a satisfied smile as she watched three youngwomen and a man stroll into the bustling plaza, the scent of spiced coffee and exotic food filling the air. Their expressions—furrowed brows and knowing glances—showed they'd compared notes. She watched, her breath catching in her throat as the color drained from Zayan's face, his usual smooth confidence shattering like fragile glass to be replaced with growing anger and desperation.
The three women, while the male watched with anger, had backed Zayan up against the front of a restaurant. From the angry yells and the laughter from the patrons, the women were giving Zayan a piece of their mind.
She winced when his white shirt and pants were suddenly coated with blobs of red sauce.
Okay, more than a piece of their mind.
His frantic gaze swept the plaza. She lifted her chin when his furious dark eyes landed on her. She lifted her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss before she turned and walked away.Hedidn’t deserve any of her headspace.
She walked slowly back to the trawler. Her grandfather was sitting on the deck, sharpening a fishing knife with slow, deliberate strokes. He didn’t ask her questions when she climbed aboard.
“I’m ready to move on,” she said, her voice low and raw.
Stuart looked up, his brows furrowing. “You sure?”
She nodded once. “Yeah. I’ve seen what I needed to see.”
He didn’t press, which she was grateful for. He simply set the knife down, rose to his feet, and wrapped her in a hug that told her he understood more than he let on.
That night, Dani sat alone in her bunk, clutching her mother’s old scarf and trying not to cry.
What cracked her heart wasn’t Zayan’s betrayal. It was the shattering of something far more fragile:
Hope.
And the last part of her innocence — that life didn’t have to be painful.
There weren’t many men out there like her grandfather and father. She stared at the smiling image of her dad, his arms wrapped aroundher and her mom. That had been something else she had witnessed while she had been following Zayan.
Maybe she could love again. That someone might love her—not for what she could give, but for who she was beneath the scars. But, she would never give in easily again.
No, if I find a guy I like, really like again, he’s going to have to work for it.
