Page 100 of Red Zone
“You know,” she says softly. “Not every man shows up when it’s hard. Not every man even notices when a woman’s hurting or ever does much about it. But you…it looks like you’re paying attention. Doing what you can to make her more comfortable. That matters more than you think.”
I freeze for just a second, her words landing heavier than I expected.
Because the thing is…I hadn’t thought of it like that.
I just couldn’t get her text out of my head. I couldn’t stand the thought of her curled up somewhere hurting and me doing nothing.
But now, hearing this stranger say it out loud—you’re here, you’re paying attention, that matters—something in my chest tightens.
Because Lyla deserves that.
Even if she doesn’t want to let herself believe it yet.
Even if I don’t know what the hell to do with what I’m feeling.
I clear my throat and force a small smile. “Thanks,” I murmur, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ll…tell her you said that.”
She chuckles faintly and hands me the bag. “You do that, hon. And you make sure she knows she picked herself a good one. A love like that doesn’t come around often.”
I nod, gripping the bag a little tighter as I head for the door.
But in the cool night air, sliding back into my Jeep, the cashier’s words echo in my head.
A love like that doesn’t come around often.
Love?
Maybe I don’t have much else figured out yet.
But I know this much?—
For her?
I’ll show up. Every time.
28
LYLA
Imust’ve fallen asleep.
The heating pad’s gone cold on my stomach, the blanket’s bunched at my feet, and my whole body aches from being curled in the same position too long. My mouth tastes dry, my head is pounding, and for a second I just lie there, staring at the faint streetlight glow on the ceiling, trying to convince myself to move.
And then?—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My heart lurches.
I freeze, straining to listen.
It’s late. Too late for anyone to just be stopping by.
For a second, I wonder if I imagined it—just another part of whatever feverish, restless dream I’d been having. But then it comes again. Louder. More insistent.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I sit up slowly, blinking hard against the dizziness. My stomach cramps angrily as I swing my feet to the floor and wrap the blanket around my shoulders, fingers gripping the edges tight.
