She had to understand why I ran from such an involved, loving relationship to one that was so careful and controlled, meticulously managed. It wasn’t her; it had never been her—I was protecting myself, though he would hate that. Hate it. And yet…I continued to do so. Either I’d have to suck it up and deal with my past, or I’d have to let Zaila go.
The second option wasn’t happening.
“Are you all always this good at the emotions?” I asked them.
“Yes.” They all nodded.
“That’s why we have such a cohesive team,” Paloma said with a smile. “We keep the guys emotionally healthy.”
“Sorry, Gunnar, but you’re messing up the juju we’ve worked so hard to establish,” Millie said.
“Now that Jeff, the real problem, is gone, we need you out of your funk and all-in with Zaila so we can redirect to keeping our men happy and focused on the game,” Keelie said.
“I…”
Hana gave my shoulder a soft pat. “You don’t have to thank us.”
I stared at her, mystified.
“But you need to show Zaila that you want her in your life and that she can trust you to be there for her in all situations,” Naomi said.
They all smiled before Keelie added, “And we have just the plan.”
Chapter 38
Zaila
“I hate Gunnar Evaldson.” I moaned into the toilet bowl, tears streaming down my cheeks. With a weak hand, I flushed the sick before flopping onto my back on the too-small bathmat. Despite the heat, the tiles were cold, and my skin was clammy.
Shivering, I stared up at the ceiling in my parents’ house. Tomorrow was Monday, and I’d need to find another job.
I also needed to stop drinking wine, because hangovers were the pits.
I’d half expected him to show up last night, but he didn’t. That’s when I knew our relationship was over. Tears sprang to my eyes all over again, and I let them slide along my damp temples. One more minute of wallow before I push myself up and get on with the day.
The only good thing was that my parents weren’t here to see this mess.
Once I finally picked myself up off the floor, I turned on the water in the shower. After a few minutes, the warm spray revived me, and I dressed in a flowing skirt with an elastic waistline, as I could handle nothing restrictive around my sensitive midsection. My stomach was really out of whack.
By the time I walked into the kitchen, my queasiness had returned, along with some abdominal discomfort. I frowned, and with a sigh, I headed toward the stove. But then I stopped.
Gunnar stood at the enormous windows that looked out over the backyard, hands shoved in his pockets. He was backlit, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but his head tipped like it always did when he had a problem to solve.
That problem was me. Except I didn’t want to be a problem.
“Zaila.”
I cleared my throat. “Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted to see you,” he said.
I clenched my hands into fists. “Well, I’ve been seen.” I swallowed, but my mouth was parched.
He stepped forward, his gaze narrowed. Part of me felt as if he could actually see what was happening in my body.
“Zaila.”
My gaze shot up to his. I watched his pupils dilate. He liked that I listened to him. Lightheadedness caused me to sway.
