Page 103 of Heart Thief

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asks.

“I can’t open the milk carton.”

His breath hisses between his teeth like he’s disgusted with himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”

He opens the carton and pours it on my cereal. We both begin to eat. I have to pinch myself to know this is really happening. I’m sitting in a beautifully romantic setting with Zane while eating Lucky Charms, of all things. There’s something so perfect about this moment. It makes my heart squeeze in my chest.

“There’s deli sandwiches, pasta salad, and fruit salad in the cooler, by the way. Lucky Charms are simply the appetizer.”

They’re not just an appetizer. They’re a reminder of us. We both know it. In my emotional state, it’s hard to tell if I’m pleased or not, so I say, “This is perfect, Zane. Thank you.”

We polish off our cereal as darkness falls. My patio looks like something out of a storybook. Utterly charming.

Zane sits back in his chair, observing me thoughtfully. “You look gorgeous in the candlelight.”

My expression must convey uncertainty, because he adds, “I think it’s time for us to have a talk, to be brutally honest with each other.”

“Okay.” I look directly in his eyes, take a deep breath, and let it all out. “I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You drove away from me. You left me standing on a curb with dust in my eyes.”

“Biggest mistake of my life.”

“Do you know how that made me feel?”

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “You can blame it on grief. I did.”

“I could. But it’s no excuse. The truth is I hated seeing you with Ryker. I was angry.”

“I was there foryou. I thought you would need someone. I thought you would needme.”

“I did. I needed you so much. Can you forgive me?”

“I already did.” I hated that moment, but I also knew it stemmed from grief. I’m positive anger wasn’t the driving force. “I saw a doctor today. That’s where I was.”

“And?”

“I... should be feeling better soon.”

“Are you talking about your hand?” he probes.

“No.” Why is it so hard to say? “I’m talking about how I’ve been feeling lately.”

“How have you been feeling?”

“Um... pretty horrible.” It comes out as a whisper.

“What did the doctor say?” When I’m quiet, he adds, “You can tell me, Mila.”

It takes me a minute, but I finally blurt it out. “She said I have situational depression.”

My announcement doesn’t faze him. “Under the circumstances, it’s not surprising. Have you struggled with depression in the past?”

“No. I mean, I’ve had ups and downs. Nothing like this, though.”

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