23. ZARA
ZARA
Pacing
The morning light slips in through the curtains in soft, golden stripes, painting the bedroom in warmth that doesn’t quite reach the knot in my stomach.
I’ve been awake for a while.
Not fully up. Just… lying here. Staring at the ceiling. Listening.
There’s a rhythm to the apartment I’ve started to recognize over the past weeks. The low hum of the fridge. The distant city noise filtering in through the windows.
And this morning—
The faint, steady sound of footsteps downstairs.
Jaxon.
Pacing.
I close my eyes for a second, exhaling slowly, trying to calm the restless energy buzzing under my skin. It doesn’t really work. My thoughts keep circling back to the same point.
The hearing. It’s in four hours.
My gaze flicks to the clock on the nightstand.
Three hours and fifty-two minutes.
My chest tightens, but then my mind drifts back to last night.
My fingers curl into the sheets as the memory hits, sharp and vivid. The empty arena. The way he looked at me like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. The way he kissed me…
Slow at first.
Then not slow at all.
A heat spreads through my chest that has nothing to do with nerves this time. My lips press together, a small, helpless smile slipping through despite everything.
God.
I’m in trouble.
Because this isn’t just attraction anymore. It’s not just proximity or shared stress or the strange intimacy of playing house.
It’s him.
My heart squeezes, something soft and terrifying settling in.
I’m in love with him.
And the worst part?
It makes everything about today so much harder.
Because this—us—started as an arrangement. A solution to an impossible problem.
And now it’s the one thing I don’t know how to defend in a courtroom.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pressing my feet into the cool floor, grounding myself. I can’t spiral. Not today.
Downstairs, the pacing continues. Measured. Relentless.
I can picture him without even seeing him. Jaw tight. Shoulders tense. Running through every possible scenario in his head, trying to control something that can’t be controlled.
My chest aches at the thought. He’s carrying all of this alone.
No.
Not alone.
Determined, I push to my feet, grab my clothes, and get dressed in record time.
My phone pings with a new message.
Danny:
All fingers crossed for today.
Me:
Thank you.
Danny:
Even though I still think this husband of yours is crazy…
Me:
For marrying me or for paying off your debt?
Danny:
Both.
I put my phone away and head downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Jaxon turns around.
“You’re pacing,” I say gently.
“I’m thinking.”
I lean against the counter, watching him. “You’re pacing while thinking. There’s a difference.”
He huffs something under his breath, but doesn’t argue.
I move to the coffee maker, starting it with practiced ease. At this point, I probably know this kitchen as well as he does.
“How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
I glance at him. “Jaxon.”
He stops mid-step, like he’s been caught. “Since four.”
Of course he has.
I don’t tell him he needs sleep. Don’t tell him to calm down. He wouldn’t hear it anyway. Instead, I grab two mugs and set them on the counter, focusing on something simple. Something we can control.
“Lily’s still asleep,” I say. “Mrs. Henriksen will be here by seven to get her ready for school. I figured we could go over the timeline one more time before we leave.”
I pour the coffee, keeping my movements calm and deliberate. I hand him his mug, holding his gaze.
“We’ve got this, Jax.”
He sets the coffee aside without looking, then pulls me into him, his arms wrapping around me like he needs the contact just to stay upright.
My breath catches as my hands come up to his chest, then slide around his back, holding him just as tightly.
His forehead presses against mine.
“I can’t lose her,” he says, his voice rough, breaking at the edges. “Lily’s everything.”
My heart squeezes.
“You won’t,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his. “We won’t.”