Chapter 19
I adjust the cuff of my shirt. The humidity inside the Sunflower Center is thick enough to ruin the press of my suit, but I ignore the heat.
This old strip mall is slowly transforming into a sanctuary, though the echo of its retail past still lingers in the high ceilings and the wide glass storefronts that once housed a discount clothing store.
I search for Zora and find her in the main hallway, her gold-blonde hair caught in a shaft of afternoon light that makes her look like a saint in cargo pants.
She is pointing at a blueprint with the lead contractor, her posture commanding in a way that I am still trying to get used to.
I wait until the contractor walks away before I approach her.
I keep my hands behind my back to avoid the urge to reach out and straighten her collar.
I can feel the distance she is keeping between us, a cold pocket of air that has persisted for months.
I clear my throat, letting the deep resonance of my voice catch her attention.
"I have news regarding Roman. The legal team finally received the medical confirmation this morning. "
Zora turns toward me, her brown eyes searching my face for a clue as she wipes a smudge of dust from her cheek. She doesn't move closer, but she stops fidgeting with the rolled-up blueprints in her hand. "Is he finally going to trial or is he still claiming he is unfit for the proceedings?"
I take a half-step forward, making sure to respect the boundary she has drawn with every subtle shift of her body.
"He has been admitted to a psychiatric hospital indefinitely.
The doctors determined he is a danger to himself and others.
He will not be coming anywhere near you or this building ever again. "
She lets out a long, shaky breath, and her shoulders drop an inch.
The relief is visible in the way her hands stop trembling, but she doesn't run to me.
She doesn't offer the hug I was secretly hoping for when I woke up this morning.
She only nods and looks back at the hallway she has been rebuilding with her own sweat.
"Thank you for telling me, Reid. I am glad that part of my life is finally over for good. "
I want to say more, to tell her that I will always make sure he stays locked away, but the look on her face stops me.
She turns back to her work without another word, leaving me standing in the middle of a dusty corridor like a discarded piece of scaffolding.
I feel like a stranger in a world I helped build for her, an outsider looking through a window at a life I no longer control.
I head toward the front entrance where the sound of metal clicking against stone echoes through the lobby.
Dameon is on his knees, his short dirty-blonde hair covered in a fine layer of white dust that makes him look older than he is.
He is focused on a circular pattern on the floor, carefully pressing tiny shards of yellow and amber glass into a bed of white mortar.
The mosaic is starting to look like a massive sunflower, the petals spreading out toward the heavy glass doors.
He picks up a small pair of nippers and trims a piece of orange ceramic, his movements precise and patient.
I stand near the door and watch him for a moment.
He looks more at home here with a bucket of grout than he ever did in the corporate office or standing guard.
I lean against the doorframe, my voice tight with a frustration that I can't seem to shake. "She is still treating me like a business associate. I told her Roman was put away and she barely even looked at me."
Dameon doesn't look up, his focus remains on a jagged piece of glass he is trying to fit into the center of the flower. "You are still trying to manage her, Reid. You walk around here like you own the air she breathes, and you wonder why she doesn't want to be near you."
I stop leaning and glare at my brother. "I have spent my entire life making sure she is safe. I provided the funding, the security, and the residency at The Nest because I wanted to protect her from everything that could go wrong."
Dameon lets out a low, dry laugh and finally sits back on his heels.
He wipes a streak of mortar across his forehead with the back of his hand, his forest-green eyes scanning my face with a bluntness that stings.
"You aren't protecting her anymore. You are trying to hold her in a cage and calling it a sanctuary.
She isn't the scared little girl she was back then.
She is the Director of this center, and she doesn't need a manager to tell her when and where it is safe to breathe. "
The words hit me with a force that makes my chest tighten.
I think back to the way I manipulated her sponsorships and always stood in the background of her life, while we obtained a fortune worthy of her.
I thought I was being the hero, but I realize now that I was stealing the victory of her survival.
I was making her success about my ability to provide, rather than her ability to lead.
I look toward the back of the building where Zora is still working.
She looks powerful and certain, a woman who doesn't need a savior anymore.
I have been so focused on being the mastermind that I forgot to be a man she could love.
I turn back to Dameon. "How do I fix it if she won't even let me in the same room for more than five minutes? "
Dameon picks up another piece of yellow glass and inspects the edge. "Surrender the control. Stop being the boss and start being someone she actually wants to spend time with. Walk back there, ask her on a date, and let her pick the place for once."
I take a deep breath and push off the wall. The smell of sawdust and exhaust is heavy in the air as I walk back through the building. I find Zora near the back exit, her hands on her hips as she inspects a newly installed door. I stop a few feet away and wait for her to notice me.
Zora turns and raises an eyebrow, her expression guarded but curious. "Did you forget something, Reid?"
I shove my hands into my pockets, feeling the lack of a script for the first time in years. "Would you go on a date with me tonight? You can pick the place."
She watches me for a long time, her gaze searching for the hidden catch in my voice. Eventually, a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "I will go. But only if there's no business talk and you don't complain about the lack of valet parking."
I nod my head, a strange sense of relief washing over me. "I can handle that. I will pick you up at seven."
The restaurant is located in a part of the city I usually avoid after sunset.
It is a crowded, narrow space filled with the scent of heavy spices and the loud, overlapping sounds of traditional music and shouting voices.
There are no white tablecloths and certainly no reservations.
We are seated across from each other at a long communal table, our knees occasionally brushing in the narrow space under the wood.
I feel the urge to call a manager and demand a private booth, but I catch the look of genuine joy on Zora’s face and hold my tongue.
She looks comfortable here, her light-brown skin glowing under the warm amber lights of the dining room.
She has her hair styled in two loose braids, and she is wearing a vibrant green knit dress that hugs her curves in a way that makes my mouth dry.
She looks like she belongs in this beautiful noise, while I feel like a suit-clad intruder from another world.
Zora looks at me and smiles, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "You look like you are waiting for a safety inspection, Reid. Relax and try the coffee before it gets cold."
I pick up the small ceramic cup and take a sip, the dark liquid bitter and strong enough to wake the dead. "I am trying. I am not used to eating with twenty strangers in a room this small and loud."
A server places a large circular tray in the center of the table, covered in a flat, spongy bread and various piles of colorful stews.
There aren’t any utensils. Zora tears off a piece of the bread and uses it to scoop up a portion of the spicy lentils.
She holds it out to me, her fingers hovering near my mouth with an intimacy that makes my heart skip.
"We eat with our hands here. It is about sharing the experience, not just the food. "
I lean in and take the bite from her fingers, the spicy lentils hitting my tongue with an intensity that makes my eyes water.
The flavors are complex and deep; a heat builds at the back of my throat and stays there while I try to maintain my composure.
I reach for my coffee and take a long sip to kill the burn, the strong brew doing nothing to cool the spice.
Zora watches me with a playful smirk as she prepares her own bite, her fingers moving with a practiced ease.
"I have already looked at three different resumes for the lead nurse position.
I want someone who has experience with residential care but also knows how to talk to kids who fear their own shadows. "
I set the cup down and try to focus through the lingering heat. "That is a specific niche to fill. Most pediatric nurses are used to regular clinics, not long-term residential homes."
She nods and scoops up a pile of the soft, turmeric-seasoned cabbage with her bread.
"Exactly. That is why I am looking at military medics who transitioned into nursing.
They understand how to stay calm when the room gets loud.
We need people who can create a home environment without making the kids feel like they are being processed like luggage.
I was even thinking about the budget for the overnight staff and how we might need to adjust the. .."