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“Zahra, hear me out. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m stuck in a constant state of nausea and heartburn, no matter what I eat.”
“Sounds like you can feel after all.” She scowls.
“Yes. Are you happy? Ifeellike shit, ever since I left you in that damn hospital room, knowing full well you were crying because of me.”
“No. I’m not happy that you’re upset. On the contrary, I want you to be happy with your choices,” she speaks with such a neutral tone as if I didn’t break her heart.
“Why?”Why do you have to be so goddamn selfless all the time?
“Because I want you to look back on your choices and know they were worth it in the end.”
Except a lot of my decisions don’t seem worth it, despite how necessary they felt in the moment. I want to tell her that and a lot more if she will only give me a chance.
“Give me a chance to explain myself. I’ve been…thinking about everything. And I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go because I was afraid. You were right. But I want to try again. With you.” My speech is stilted and awkward but it’s genuine.
She releases a resigned sigh, and my heart drops with it. “No. I’m not falling for this again. I gave you a chance and you blew it.”
“But—”
“No buts. What happens if you change your mind again? I won’t take that risk. I’ve been through enough, and honestly, I deserve better than anything you could half-heartedly offer me.”
I’m stuck slack-jawed, staring at her.
Her back tenses. “I need to get back to work. I’m on a deadline.”
“I could help you with that. No strings attached.” I take another look at the drawing.
Say yes and give me a chance.
“I think you’ve done enough.” She turns her chair, giving me her back.
She’s dismissing me. I’ve never felt so…awful. There’s an uncomfortable swell in my chest and a tightness in my throat that only intensifies the more I stare at Zahra’s back.
She’s really done with me, and it’s all my fault.
46
Zahra
Irelish in the taste of my fresh glass of orange juice. It’s taken me a whole week after coming back from the hospital to regain my taste buds. While I might have been going a little stir crazy from all the bedrest, I was grateful for the break from Rowan and the Creator team. I wasn’t sure I would have had enough strength to be in the same room as him without crying or yelling.
Yesterday was a good test of my strength and I passed with flying colors. I was able to stay strong and look Rowan right in his dejected face without giving in to his request.
“This ended up in my stack of mail.” Claire drops an envelope in front of my plate.
“This is from two weeks ago!” I point at the date.
She shrugs. “I know, and I’m sorry. I promise to get more organized next week.”
I laugh without any pain today. “You always say that!” I yell at her back.
She chuckles under her breath as she walks back to her mess of a bedroom.
My fingers brush across my name written in cursive with an old ink pen. The return address is listed as The Kane Company.
That’s weird.I grab a knife from the kitchen and slice across the top.
My fingers shake as I pull out a folded piece of paper. I open it and my mouth drops open.
