Page 57 of Hidden Echoes

But looking at her now, asleep and vulnerable in my arms, I start to wonder if maybe... just maybe... things are changing.

It’s not like I’m in love with her.

But I care about her.

The realization hits me hard, and it’s a bit of a shock because I’m not in the habit of letting people in enough to care about them.

But somehow... I don’t want Mia to get hurt.

She mumbles something in her sleep, and I can’t make it out. Probably some half-formed dream, a jumble of words lost in the fog of her mind. But there’s something in her expression that catches me. Peace, yes, but also a kind of hidden sadness—like even in her sleep, she’s carrying something no one else gets to see, a weight she doesn’t share with anyone.

I walk out of the store, ignoring the curious glances of a woman with a poodle stuffed into a purse, and carefully place Mia in the passenger seat of my car, fastening the seatbelt over her.

As I do, she shifts slightly, her eyes opening for a moment in confusion.

"Zane?" she murmurs, her voice still rough with sleep. "What...?"

"You fell asleep," I say simply, trying to keep the emotions tangled up in my chest from spilling over.

She yawns and rubs her eyes, still clutching the teddy bear like it’s her new best friend. "I... guess I was tired. Sorry."

"It’s okay," I reply with a shrug, trying to keep my tone light. "You looked exhausted."

She gives me a sleepy, genuine smile. "I think you should carry me around more often. It was nice."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. "Don’t get used to it."

I start the car and shift it into gear, the engine humming softly beneath us. The silence that follows is easy, like it’s become a comfortable thing between us. Mia drifts in and out of sleep, her head resting against the window, and I focus on the road ahead, steering toward the apartment I’ve booked for my stay in Los Angeles.

I can’t keep this girl. Can I? I barely have a place to call my own, let alone enough space for someone else. But the thought of just letting her go, knowing she’s still adjusting to everything, doesn’t feel right.

It’s not about Charlie anymore. Damn it.

Charlie is going to kill me when she finds out.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

I shouldn’t be getting attached.

But as I drive, with Mia beside me, clutching that damn bear, I find myself thinking that maybe—just maybe—things don’t have to be as complicated as they seem.

Maybe I like who I am when she’s around.

Maybe I was never really able to connect with people on an intimate level—not just physically, but emotionally, too.

All that feelings stuff always felt... off, like I was never meant to get too close.

But with her, intimacy feels natural, like drinking water

Maybe I want to keep her close… as my wife.

Fuck.

I’m definitely losing it with that thought, which leads me to wonder—

Maybe Mia is the only thing that makes any sense in this chaos.

Mia already makes my days a little less empty, a little less lonely.

---