Page 19 of Shattered Hearts

I even out my voice. “Thanks for asking. How are you?”

“Oh,” she says, taken aback by my softer tone. “We’re fine. Busy as always. I’m calling to invite you to our New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night, since you managed to avoid me for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. You can bring Zarah, of course.”

Zarah wouldn’t be up to doing something like that, and even if she was, I’ll never let Rourke around her again. “I already have plans, but thank you.”

“I’m hosting a brunch on New Year’s Day. Maybe that would work?” She has a whole lot of hope in her voice. Maybe she misses me a little. Max would have attended events like this.

“Possibly. I’ll let you know. Happy New Year, Mom. Give Rourke my best.” My best foot up his ass.

“I will, darling. Hear from you soon.”

“Yeah. Bye.” I disconnect the call.

“Party?” Pop asks.

“Yep. New Year’s. I’d rather spend it with Zarah. The date completely missed me. When we go out there tonight, I’ll ask her if she has plans.”

“Glad your mother didn’t invite me.”

“Ha. Ha. If Zarah’s not in the mood for company tomorrow night, who do you think’s going to be my plus one? I’m not going alone.”

Pop pulls a face.

We spend another hour jotting down ideas and details about Zarah’s case, if we can call it that, then give our other clients some time. Zarah texts and asks if we’re going out there for dinner, and Pop warns, “This can’t be a regular thing.”

I know that, but no matter what I’ve got going on, it’s going to be damned near impossible to keep my distance. I text backYes,and she shoots off a million hearts and smiling emojis. The 7 PM almost gets lost in the burst of color.

Despite the tension between Zane and me, the evening’s pleasant. He’s not happy Zarah and I have been intimate. I would love to say it’s none of his business, but until Zarah’s mentally healthy, I’m going to have to give him some room in our relationship. There’s nothing I can do but prove I won’t hurt her, and my track record hasn’t been a hundred percent spot on.

At the end of the night, I ask Zarah about New Year’s Eve. Pop’s waiting in the truck, and Baby’s doing an extra run around the yard before we head back into the city.

The moon and stars are twinkling above us, the scent of woodsmoke in the air.

“Maybe not tomorrow. I can’t ask you to give me all your free time. But what about New Year’s Day? I’d like to see you, kiss you Happy New Year.” She smiles tentatively, knowing just as well as I do that the coming year may not be so happy. “Douglas can drive me into the city, and we’ll have lunch somewhere.”

“That sounds perfect.” I kiss her goodbye and brush a tear off her cheek. “Things are going to be okay.”

“If you’re in my life, I know they will be.”

That’s a lot of faith, and I hope I can live up to it.

I’m quiet on the way back, and Pop’s lost in his own thoughts. I drop him at home, and he says mournfully, “Tomorrow night.”

“Black tie.”

“Of course it is.”

He slams out of the truck, but he’s not annoyed. He knows as well as I do that’s how Mom works.

I fight traffic, people heading to the bars to celebrate the New Year early, and finally park in my building’s lot. Sitting in the dark cab, I text Mom and let her know Pop and I will be at her party. She doesn’t ask about Zarah, but I’m sure she will tomorrow night. She reminds me it’s black tie, but I say I already know and to have a good night. I’m surprised she’s not sleeping, but maybe my text woke her or she was hoping I would get in touch.

I’ve been a crappy son. I need to change or she’ll pass away and I’ll feel like I did when Max died. The way I still feel. Guilty as fuck. I shouldn’t be an ass just because I dislike Rourke. I have been, and that’s not fair.

I feed Baby and flop into bed with Max’s journal. I’m behind reading it and sorting through the discs he left me. Now that Zarah’s case is a priority, I can carve more time into my schedule to do what Max asked me to do.

I fall asleep paging through his diary, wishing like hell the answers to all of Zarah’s problems would leap out at me.

They don’t.

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