But if that was true, then why did it feel broken?
____________________
ZAYN
God fucking damn it.
I tear at fistfuls of my hair with both hands as I stalk away from her. Even now, in this bare and honest moment, where all other defenses are stripped away, she still holds others at arm’s length.Holds me there.
“Fuck!” I bellow out loud into the night. I hear birds leave the trees nearby.
The rain begins to fall in earnest and quickly soaks through my clothes, marring my vision as I walk. I could not give less of a fuck though.
Kat, my Kat.Fuck, this hurt.I had followed Lachlan’s plan. I had followed through with my word to him. And to her.
I thought that she and I had finally connected, finallysawone another. She had asked for honesty. And I had given it to her.
But her bids for honesty and connection are still a deflection. She couldn’t even meet my eyes after I asked if this is what she really wanted. I challenged her to do it. Every cell in my body screaming out for her to do it. To choose me, to chooseus. And still, she can’t. Or won’t.
Underneath her anger at my decision to handle Josh, I could sense the secret question she was desperate to have answered—the question that ultimately ALL of us want to ask. Am I loveable? Can you love me? Am I even worthy of love? I was so ready to answer that question for her.YES, I would have shouted.Would have screamed. Yes, you are loveable and perfect, and so fucking perfectfor meand I want to be there beside you forever. But I didn’t say it, didn’t reassure her.
Instead, I had turned and walked away, leaving her standing there in the mist and rain. She looked so small. Like she did as a girl, in these same woods all those years ago.
Things were no different now. She had walked away from me back then. And she had done it again tonight.
I am barely even cognizant of what I’m doing as I tear through Pearson House, collecting my shit. I barrel into the driveway towards my Beemer, grateful for having driven here earlier in the evening. The powerful six-cylinder engine roars to life. The car fishtails on the wet pavement as I slam the gas pedal to the floor, and haul ass down the drive and into the night.
22
KNIGHT
ZAYN ~ GREENWOOD, WA. SEPTEMBER 2023
My axe thuds the stump of the tree, splitting the log into two perfect halves. The air is rich with the smell of cedar, woodsmoke, and rain. The pumpkins in my mother’s garden are nearly the size of boulders now. The image of an epic Jack-O-lantern forms in my mind’s eye, and I decide to harvest and carve one up tomorrow.
“Bronwin!” Lachlan shouts, leaning over the back railing of the porch.
I raise my head and give him a wave in response. I hadn’t seen him there.I hope this isn’t about the goddamn rosebushes out front again.The man was too anal for his own good.
“Why don’t you come inside a minute, son,” he calls out.
And I nod, setting down my axe. Sliding off my work gloves, I lay them on the stump next to the discarded axe. I run my hands through my hair, which is unruly with sweat and rain, and head up the pathway toward Pearson House.
I approach at the back door and wipe my shoes thoroughly on the mat. Lachlan stands there, waving me inside.
“Come on in, son,” Lachlan begins, “I want to talk to you. Let’s have a game.”
As he moves to lead me into his study, I notice he is thinner than the last time I saw him—just last week. His expensive cashmere sweater hangs loosely on his shoulders, and he seems to move with a new sort of stiffness.Or is it pain?
“Scotch?” Lachlan asks me, already knowing the answer.
He busies himself with the bronze bar cart in the corner of his study.
“No thank you, sir.” I say, giving him my usual reply.
“One of these days, I’m going to convince you to have a drink with me, Bronwin.”
I chuckle. “We’ll see, sir. Every once in a great while, I’ll imbibe. I usually save it for a very special occasion.”
