Broody Brit by Naima Simone

Chapter Seventeen

Zenobia

I glance down as an elbow knocks against mine, and Bethany tips her head back, smiling up at me as we and her parents step outside of Roger Williams Park Zoo. This isn’t my first trip to the small zoo south of downtown Providence, and apparently it isn’t hers either. By far. But it’s one of her favorite places in the city, and she wanted to spend a couple of hours with me here.

When Bethany, with Danielle and Gregory’s permission, called a couple of days ago and invited me to meet them here, I leaped on it. After the breakup—can I call really call it a breakup when we weren’t technically together in the first place?—with Axel four days earlier, I desperately needed the distraction. Even the controlled chaos of the emergency department hadn’t provided enough of one to totally evict him from my mind. And, though I love them, having Bridget and Simon back haven’t helped either. It’s required every tattered and tested scrap of pride I have not to ask about him.

But I haven’t done it.

Yet.

This week, I’ve held on.

Next week is another matter.

Because it seems like in the battle between pride and love, there aren’t any clear winners, and the outcome is muddy as fuck.

Jesus, leave it to me to fall in love with an emotionally and geographically unavailable man in a number of days. Like some really sappy and bad romance novel. And not even the good sappy, bad ones where there’s a happily ever after or happily ever after for now. Nope, the awful novels where the hero dies or falls for the heroine’s best friend, and the heroine is writing about that shit thirty years later in a dusty journal.

Except no one’s died.

It’s just felt like it.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, falling in love with Axel has turned me into a maudlin, depressing bitch who is getting on my own damn nerves.

I hate love.

I hate men who look like Vikings with ice blue eyes, tattoos, and wounded souls.

I hate that I’m lying.

“Did you have a good time, Z?” Bethany nudges me again.

Even though my heart is aching, and my chest feels like someone reached in and snatched out a vital part of me, leaving me rattling and hollow, I summon up a smile. Honestly, for her, it’s no hardship at all. Looking at her brings me joy.

“I sure did. Your mom told me you like to come here and sketch the snakes.” I overexaggerate a shudder. But only a little. Those things are evil as fuck. “Brave girl.”

“I do. Getting down all the details in their scales and eyes is fun and a challenge.” She grins, and it strikes me as a little wicked. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the snakes?” She snickers. “I might’ve noticed you hiding behind my dad.”

“A healthy respect for them. Not fear.”

“And she wasn’t hiding, Bethany,” Gregory adds, sliding an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “You were just taking in the aerial view, right, Zenobia?”

“Exactly.” I nod and return his grin.

There have been surprisingly easy moments between the Mavises and me through the day. Not a lot of them. Our—well, relationship is too strong a word—alliance is too new to enjoy a true camaraderie. There’s also still a sense of… possessiveness they have over their daughter when it comes to me. And I get it. As much as Bethany must have assured them about only wanting to get to know me as a friend, they probably still feel a little threatened about my intrusion into their lives. Fingers crossed, the more time we spend together, the easier it will become for them. At least I hope so.

Because I want her in my life.

“We should head home,” Danielle says.

She’s going to be the hardest nut to crack. Again, I get it. I didn’t come into this expecting miracles. Just a chance. And, I’m grateful for it.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready, Mom.” Bethany smiles at her mother, then turns back to me, throwing her arms around my waist in an impromptu hug that has tears stinging my eyes.

I blink them back as I return the embrace.

“Thanks for coming, Z. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Deal. Make sure you okay it with your parents first, though?”

“Got it.” She releases me and grabbing her mother’s hand, gives me one last wave, and heads off across the parking lot with them.

I remain at the zoo’s entrance for a few extra moments, watching them, gathering myself. This happened. I got to spend the day with my daughter. Blowing out a breath, I will my pulse to slow. At some point, I need to call my mom and let her know about the change of events. It’s funny how I shared everything about Bethany—seeing her again, setting up an arrangement to get to know her—with Axel first, but not my own mother. Not that she won’t be happy for me. At least I think she will. We haven’t spoken about Bethany since I returned from the hospital after giving birth.

Another thing I’ve decided to own up to since accepting my feelings for Axel. My resentment for my mother and grandparents. I can have lingering anger toward them for not supporting me and still adore them. And it’s okay. Because I’ve forgiven them. The good they’ve given me and shown me far outweighs a moment we faced when all of us were out of out our depth. I can’t hold that against them.

A smirk rides my lips as I walk toward my car. I’ve become a regular Dr. Phil since Axel dumped me. Of course, that might have something to do with me deciding to return to counseling. Since James’s betrayal and desertion, I haven’t been kind to myself. I’ve blamed myself for things that aren’t my sins, and some of that goes back to getting pregnant and the adoption. There’s nothing wrong with a refresher round of counseling, and I deserve to be the healthiest, best me I can be. For Bethany, the Mavises, and for myself.

I press the key fob and glance in the direction of the flashing lights. There I… am…

No.

It can’t be.

But as Axel pushes off the side of my car and stalks my way, I can’t deny that he’s a figment of my starved imagination.

Move. Walk past him.

My brain issues the order, but by the time my feet move, it’s too late. He’s in front of me, his clean cedar scent enveloping me. His beautiful, shockingly blue eyes roam my face as if he’s seeing me for the first time in four years instead of days. His blond hair frames those razor-sharp cheekbones, tempting me to trace the blades with my lips before touching them to his waiting mouth.

His long, elegant fingers flex next to his thick, denim-covered thighs as if he’s barely controlling himself from reaching for me…

It’s those hands that snap me out of my stupor.

Because he might not have used them to shove me out of that hospital room door, but he did it just the same.

“What’re you doing here, Axel?” Dammit. Why does my voice contain a hoarse rasp instead of a strong, what-the-fuck-do-you-want sneer?

“Bridget told me you would be here for the first meeting with Bethany and her parents. I wanted to be here just in case you—”

“What? Needed you?” I scoff. Stop that shit right now, I scold my traitorous heart as it simultaneously squeezes and sighs. He wants no part of you. Get your shit together. “Nope. All good here. If that’s it…”

I step forward, but he doesn’t move. His hands lift as if to grip my arms, but hell no.

“Don’t.” I jerk backward, my pulse thudding in my ears.

Jesus, he can’t touch me. I’m not fool enough to think that just I’ve developed an immunity to him. That’s not possible. And I can’t fold in front of him. I might love him, but I’ve already been in a relationship where I was more invested than the other person. That profit margin cost me too much.

And with Axel?

I would make the stock market crash of 1929 look like a banner day.

I won’t sell myself short like that ever again. I’m worth more than that.

“Fine. I won’t touch you. I promise.” He holds his hands up, palms out, that gruff voice so gentle I want to curl up around it even as I know it’s impossible for several reasons. “Just… Two minutes. I don’t deserve them, but please give me two minutes and then I won’t bother you again.”

I don’t reply.

But I don’t walk away either.

I’m a fool.

“Everything you said in hospital that night… You were right. I was running scared. If I’m honest, I’ve been running scared since I met you. You are so unlike any woman I’ve known, and being with you isn’t just a night watching TV. Or a night eating Chinese food. Or a night making love. It’s an epiphany. An awakening. But when you’ve been asleep and in self-preservation mode for most of your life, coming alive outside of the one thing that’s been your reason for breathing—and for me that’s always been art, sculpting—it’s terrifying. You terrified me. I don’t know how to explain it. But it’s like…”

He frowns, his throat working as he glances down, as if searching the ground for the answer. When he returns his gaze to mine, there’s a fierceness there that steals what little breath I maintained since he started talking.

“It’s like living underwater all your life and never having used your lungs before. And when you break the surface, that first gasp of breath is life fire to your lungs. It’s jarring, painful. Scary. But it’s also so beautiful that you can never return underwater again. No matter how much you want to return because the familiar is better than the unknown. That’s what you are for me, Zenobia. That first lungful of air. And I tried to go back to the world I knew. But it’s dark there without you. It’s cold. It’s lonely. Too quiet. I don’t want to be there anymore. I need you. More than you could possibly need me. I need you to be my noise. My color. My pain. My fire. My heartbeat.”

He shifts closer and his palm raises, hovers next to my cheek. But he doesn’t touch me, respecting my wishes. I note the fine tremble in that hand, and it echoes the one in my heart.

“I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m sorry I hurt you to save myself. You were right to call me a coward. But I’m not anymore. I’m still scared as fuck, but I’m willing to be frightened with you. For you. Because I can’t be without you. I love you.”

Part of me yells that I should let him sweat it out. I should make him suffer. Because he hurt me. And it’s true he did. But this man standing in front of me with his heart in his eyes and hands? Yes, he very well might hurt me in the future, but it won’t be in the way he did in that ER room, and it won’t be intentionally. Because I believe him when he says he loves me.

So, I shut that bitter bitch up and throw myself into his arms.

And he catches me.

Just like I knew he would.

Still… “If you pull that shit again, I’ll cut you to the white meat,” I snarl, pulling back and jabbing a finger at his nose.

His arms lock around me, frowning as he pulls me tight against him. “Is that an American thing I’m going to have to learn like grits?”

“That and Real Housewives of Atlanta.”

“Oh fuck.”

I grin. “I love you, too.”

And I kiss him.

Because that’s what you do when you have a happily ever after.