Page 142 of Love Is an Art
Zeke is here.
Zeke hugs me, and I turn gladly into his strength and warmth.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“You said you wanted to be a lawyer to protect you and others,” Zeke says. “But you keep forgetting to protect yourself. I got worried and thought I should come. But I tried to stay far behind so he wouldn’t see me. That’s why I was late. And because I thought you could handle him. As you did.”
My body is still shaking.
“I don’t want to break up,” Zeke says.
“I don’t want to either,” I say.
Zeke holds me tight against him, and I can feel my body slumping as the adrenaline wears off.
Jurgen is hustled into a waiting patrol car. It speeds off.
Zeke releases me but still holds my hand as we turn to face Officer Johnson. Officer Johnson hands me my painting.
“I’m sorry about that,” Officer Johnson says. “We didn’t assess the risk as physically dangerous.”
Neither had I. I didn’t trust him, but I hadn’t been paranoid enough.
“I think I failed all of his artist questions,” I say and turn to Zeke. “Let’s go home.”
I grip Zeke’s hand tighter. Zeke is the one for me. I need to tell him that so he isn’t hurt by doubts about me.
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment, and we can debrief on the way,” Officer Johnson says.
Chapter forty-seven
Zeke
WhenthatguygrabbedTessa, my heart rate exploded.I grip the edge of Tessa’s kitchen counter in her apartment.
I fill the electric kettle with water. She went to take a shower and change. She said she wanted a cup of tea. I remove the paper copy of my PowerPoint presentation from my backpack and place it on the table for later. I take a deep breath.We’re back together, but I still need to tell her how I feel.I return to the kitchen and take down two mugs from the shelves. Is she okay? Should I check on her? I pace in the narrow kitchen hallway.
As Tessa enters the room, she still looks pale. The black shirt and yoga pants she’s thrown on clearly don’t help. She looks like she’s going to a funeral.
“I’m sorry,” she says. Tears glisten in her eyes. “I never should have said let’s break up. I was so tired last night.”
“I’m sorry again about thinking even for a moment that you were getting back together with Wyatt. I know that possibility isn’t even in your DNA,” I say immediately. “I’m a jealous fool, but I will try to be better.”
“I’m also a jealous fool, so I understand.”
“You shouldn’t be. I will never get back together with Paisley. And I can hand off this Red Can investment opportunity to Ming or a more senior associate who can handle the whole thing.”
“It’s okay. You guys can work together. I trust you,” she says. “I gave myself a stern talking-to last night, and I realized that we both have mirror situations with exes, although yours was much worse. You shouldn’t be jealous of Wyatt. I have no desire to get back together with him.Ever.But I was upset that you even thought I could cheat.”
“I know you wouldn’t cheat. It was a momentary, stupid thought, and then I realized that I had to tell you that you are the only one for me. That’s why I was running.”
“So if I’d just let you explain, we wouldn’t have gone through last night?” she asks.
“Maybe. But last night gave me some time to think about us.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“That we’re good together.” I reach out to hug her. We stand there like that for a moment, drawing strength and comfort from each other.
