Page 76 of Heart Thief

I smile through my tears that I still can’t seem to control. I didn’t let Zane encourage me earlier. But I let my family lay it on thick. I soak it all in, knowing it could all be false hope. But I don’t care. Somehow, I’ll tap into that determination inside me. Right now, it feels elusive.

I glance at Zane. He’s standing back, watching the scene before him with serious eyes.

“Zane, get over here. You’re practically part of the family now,” Mom says. “Our Mila can hardly stop talking about you. You’ve made our girl so happy. If Mila loves you, then so do we. That’s how it works.”

He moves forward with reluctance, taking the seat next to Mom. She puts her arm around him, holding him close.

Zane had his father while growing up, but a family circle is foreign to him, and it shows in his subdued expression.

“You picked a handsome one, Mila.” Mom sends me a thumbs up. “This guy’s a stud. You two will have beautiful children.”

My cheeks grow hot.

“Mom, don’t embarrass Mila,” Martin warns.

Dad pats Zane on the back. “She’s just trying to make me jealous. Keeps our marriage alive.” He laughs heartily at his own joke.

While my family volleys lighthearted jokes back and forth, I find myself observing Zane unnoticed.

He doesn’t laugh or even crack a smile. The look in his eyes can only be described as haunted.

Finally, our eyes meet. We stare at each other, our faces somber. His eyes burn into mine. I’m surprised I don’t catch on fire from the heat of his stare.

The simple truth hits me hard. Something is terribly wrong.

Has Ryker caused a rift between us? Exactly what I swore he couldn’t do.

No, I don’t believe any of Ryker’s accusations against Zane. Of course, Zane doesn’t know that. Does he realize I know Ryker is a master at twisting the truth?

Zane has not confirmed or denied a single thing. But we haven’t had a moment to ourselves to talk, either.

For the first time, I begin to wonder if I could be wrong about Zane Martel.

Maybe he’s not who I think he is.

The thought enters my heart like a painful sliver.

chapter twenty-eight

~

Two weeks later

I STARE ATthe vases of flowers crowding my dining room table, almost all sent to me by my symphony cohorts. Most were accompanied by a card, filled with get well wishes. Many reminded me I’ll be back in no time at all.

Hope can be so deceiving. Especially when faced with reality.

I constantly remind myself I’m not alone. I have a huge support system. Yet, here I am feeling lonely, trying to convince myself I’m fine.

I’m not.

Mom, Dad, and Martin were here with me for about a week and a half. Mom and Dad had planned to stay longer, several weeks to a month, if needed. But Mom became ill with the flu. Dad thought it was best to take her home to let her rest. Now he’s coming down with it too.

So, here I sit. Alone. I never realized how excruciatingly slow time passes. Sixty seconds make up a minute. Sixty minutes make up an hour. The cast has to stay on my hand for six weeks. Four more weeks to go. Twenty-eight more days. Six-hundred and seventy-two more hours.

Might as well be forever.

My phone rings, startling me out of my stupor.

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