“Look man, I love you like family. We all do. But Zeke’s different. He’s like Mom, and everyone loves her. You hurt Zeke because you didn’t think this through and I’m coming for you. Me, Perseus, and Hector. And you’d better hope we don’t bring Brenda or Mom. I’m not saying that as a threat, I’m just reminding you of what you’d lose if you play around with Zeke’s heart. Take it if he’s offering it, but only if you can give yours back in return fully and completely. If you can’t, then tell him the truth. He won’t like it, but he’ll respect you for your honesty.”
My chest felt tight, and it was hard to breathe. The warning was as much to guard Zeke as it was me. He wanted us both to be happy. “I’ll talk to him. I know what I want; I need to be sure he knows what he’s getting in return.”
“That’s all any of us can do, Ori. Zeke’s ten times smarter than either of us and twice as intuitive. If he offers you his heart, he already knows you’re worth it.”
His words gave me hope, and I was prepared to use that as a shield to keep all the doubts away. Zeke didn’t need me to do anything more for him to see who I was at my core. If he found me worthy, I’d take it with both hands.
Now all I had to fear was what if he didn’t find me worth it in his heart.
Ifinished the last hundred yards at a full sprint, not because I was in a hurry but to burn off some nervous energy. The image of hurt on Zeke’s face was like a knife in the heart. His offer had been a test. He wanted to know if what we shared in the car was still there or if knowing Lael was here had changed things for us. I failed the test, but not for the reasons he thought.
Moving forward with Zeke was more than a big step. It was seismic. I’d convinced myself being alone was best. Breaking the stranglehold that belief had on my soul required an enormous effort. I needed a few quiet minutes to convince myself I could do it.
Like Ajax said, I needed to be sure I could go all in and for the right reasons.
Zeke made me want that closeness again. Not just physical, but a gentle soul that was tough and resilient. Say what you like about Michael, but he knew the right buttons to push. It had been seventy years since I’d felt anything for anyone except pain. Zeke made me want again just by being himself. I should curse Michael for dragging me back to the living, but I couldn’t deny it felt good to be alive again.
Damn him for knowing me better than I knew myself.
Pushing open the door, I heard the music and came to a stop. Zeke was playing guitar and singing. The music was different. There was passion, but pain replaced joy. I didn’t know the song, but the notes and words weren’t important. The emotions were what mattered most. The loss and longing were so clear I nearly cried.
Where the hell did he learn to play like that? Moreover, why did he choose that song now? He said he played for the love ofthe music. He’d filled the house with joyous energy—his playful spirit put into music. All hints of those moments were gone.
I crept deeper into the house, following the notes like a dying man inching toward salvation. I stopped in the doorway. Zeke sat on the edge of his bed. His back was mostly to the door, but I could see some of his beautiful face. His eyes were closed, but tears leaked through the lids squeezed shut. When he tried to sing again, he choked on the words.
Instead, he poured everything into playing, and I felt the water drops etching a path down my cheeks. It was as if he’d seen into my soul, pulled out my pain, and expelled it with his music.
He started to sing again, and through the tear-filled voice I heard the words. It was a ballad for the fallen comrades. Zeke had never been a soldier or watched thousands of men and women die around him. He hadn’t felt a person take his last breath impaled on his sword, but he’d captured the anguish of those who’d survived.
Those emotions, however, were my spin on his song. This was a song of loss. A farewell from the heart. It was filled with love and the sorrow of losing something wonderful. This was for him. He was mourning what we’d never become.
I inched silently into the room, not wanting to disturb the hauntingly beautiful music. He’d recovered enough control that he’d replayed a prior verse and was able to sing the words. As cliched as it was, he had the voice of an angel. Pure, beautiful, and loving.
Zeke bowed his head and continued to play until he trailed off. Heaving a breath, he opened his eyes, but I stood rooted in place, weeping openly. The surprise of seeing me shifted to anger and then concern.
“Orion?” He set down the guitar and rushed over. He grabbed me by the arms, and I felt him scan me, fearing the worst.
“That . . .” I sniffed to clear my nose. “That was beautiful.”
I pulled him into a hug. He resisted at first, but then gave in to what he’d wanted for days. What we both wanted.
His music truly pulled the pain from my heart, freeing the space to accept what I needed.
“Why . . .?”
Zeke pulled away and picked up his guitar. With his back to me, he put the instrument back in its case. “I don’t know. A few years ago, I’d heard the song, and it reminded me of the times Dad played the piano when he remembered his lost friends. I played it for him, and he cried. He told me whoever wrote it knew the pain of losing brothers in arms.”
The knife in my heart twisted because I’d caused this. He thought I’d rejected us. “I’m sorry.” I bowed my head, unwilling to look at the pain I’d caused in this beautiful being.
“Orion, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Only you can protect your heart the way it needs. I was wrong to try and push for even a tiny sliver more than you could safely give. I hope you’ll forgive me for being too stupid to realize it at first.”
I shook my head in disbelief that he’d take the blame for my cold heart. “Zeke. Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
His music echoed through my head, and I hated how I’d clung to my pain like a shield. It changed me for the worse. As I lifted my head, Zeke watched me with those soulful eyes, seeking some way to help.
My initial assessment of him was wrong. He might not have the look of a fearsome warrior like his father, but he possessed the same indomitable spirit that never surrendered. Zeke’s gift to the world wasn’t his prowess as a fighter, but his ability to see the good in everyone.
“I walled myself away from everyone, emotionally and physically, for so long, my pain became more than a crutch. It wove itself into the core of my being. I didn’t want to let it go because what happened was worse than any injury I’d experienced to my flesh.”
