Page 22 of Things Left Unsaid

To memories of an adolescence that this troubled kid helped me get through.

That night changed everything. Robbed me of Loki. Took away her friendship?—

“Why the hell didn’t you stanch the idea before it became a contract, then?”

For a second, I can do no more than be trapped in her gaze.

It’s like she won’t let me out. Won’t free me.

It’s as if she sees through to my very soul.

Nothing’s changed there.

“You want the God’s honest truth from me, Zee?” I watch those omniscient eyes of hers widen at my words. “Bearing in mind that whatever you say here will alter every single interaction we have in the future…”

Her lips purse. “I-I’d prefer you not to lie to me.”

There’s a push and pull between us that I didn’t expect.

She’s not the girl I knew. Neither is she afraid. Or cowering. So why the hell did I find her in the lake like some tragic Ophelia?

“There are a multitude of truths. I can tell you what you want to hear—that’s your truth. I can tell you facts. I can tell you logic. I can tell you what my feelings are on a subject…

“See, more truths than lakes you own. The question is, which do you want to hear?”

Her throat bobs, drawing my gaze to it. Her collarbones are narrow and right in the nook, there’s a small pendant. Silver. I’d say it’s a saint’s medallion, but if it is, she’s smoothed over the figure’s features with her thumb too many times for me to recognize which one.

It’s new though. She didn’t wear it before.

“Did you know I’m a paralegal in New York?”

“Yes. You can continue to work if telecommuting is an option?—”

“Bet your damn ass I’ll continue to work!” Zee grinds out, showing more of that fire I can’t deny I like in her.

“Well, that’s good,” I soothe, hiding a smile because her knee is far too close to my frostbitten junk for me to risk it.

Which, of course, is a reminder that she’s still in my arms.

I should let her go…

Unbidden, the image of her floating in the lake returns to me. Combined with hours of hearing her tell me she didn’t want to live anymore once her mom had passed, I thought she was?—

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

The question liberates me from the memory. “We’re not in court.”

“Marriage is but two defendants on opposing sides in need of an adjudicator,” she dismisses.

If I’d needed a reminder we both had troubled pasts, that was it.

“You were how I finally banished my father from the Seven Cs.”

She grows tense at the first mention of Pops. Water trickles as she settles her hand on my chest. It’s clue enough that we need to get out—there’s no warmth to be found in her skin touching mine. But, nails digging in, she demands, “He’s not here?”

“What are you two doing in there? Come on out before you catch your deaths!”

I’d recognize Juliette McAllister’s bark from anywhere, but neither of us reacts to it. Her because she’s desperate to hear my answer. Me because I’m desperate to know why she’s scared.

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