Chapter 20
Jordan
“Hey.” Lulie’s gaze slid right over him. “Where’s Zinnia?”
“She’s taking a sick day.”
He’d tucked her into bed last night and when he knocked on her door that morning, she was still curled up in the same position. After recovering from a slight heart attack, he’d touched her cheek—and she inhaled deeply. He left her a note before leaving.
“Is she in the bungalow? Is the door locked? I want to talk to her.”
“That’s not a good idea. Yesterday was…She needs to rest.”
“Oh. Okay. I get it. I guess.” She shrugged and Jordan sighed.
Even though he was dying to ask how his sister was doing, he knew better than to bring up the attack on camera.
Official interviews weren’t for another month.
Production wanted the events to marinate into “raw feelings and reflective emotions.” Talking about too much before then would “lessen the impact.”
Being her big brother, being in her life period, meant accepting that she wanted to live her life like this. She’d said she was fine. He decided to believe her until she told him otherwise. Earning her trust was more important than prying.
“So”—Lulie began looking everywhere but at him—“where are you headed?”
“I work out of Dad’s old office in the mornings.”
“I guess I could walk you there instead.”
He scoffed. “I guess.”
Lulie fell in step beside him as they walked down the hall.
“I’m thinking about apologizing,” she said.
“I’m glad you married Zinnia now, for obvious reasons, but why did you in the first place?
We had everything all planned out. We don’t create twists on our own.
You broke the rules. I did what I was supposed to. ”
“Those were never my rules, Lu.”
“But it made sense! You broke up because of the show. It was the only thing keeping you apart, but you’re here now. It would’ve been the perfect full circle storyline for Bea to come back.”
“Not to be dramatic—”
“You always are.”
“—but marrying Bea would ruin my life.”
“How? You two are meant to be. Literally everyone thinks so.”
“That doesn’t make it true. I get to choose how I live my life and who I end up with—not some ‘perfect’ storyline.”
Her frown deepened as he watched her struggle with reconciling the way she’d been raised with what he was saying. He stopped walking and took her by the shoulders.
“At the end of the day, I want you to be happy with your life. If that means staying here and following the rules, then do that. If that means branching out and becoming an actress, do that too. Take some acting classes, work on becoming the fucking best because you excel at everything you put your mind to. You don’t have to apologize to me.
I love you exactly as you are, horrible temper included. ”
“I love you too.” She gave him a hug. “I’m definitely going to apologize to Zinnia, though.”
“I think she’d appreciate that.”
“And I’m gonna watch out for her. She doesn’t really fit in here, but I think once she has more of us on her side, things will get better.”
Jordan laughed lightly, placing a hand on top of her head. “Let’s hope so.”
Unfortunately, hope wasn’t enough.
Over the next week, Zinnia slowly transformed into a shadow. Everyone commented on how her effusive light was fading and how quiet she was. Literal hours would pass without her speaking a single word during their schedules.
Mabel finally hissed at him midway through the second shadow week, ordering him to “Do something.”
As if he wasn’t already trying. They didn’t know she was like that in the bungalow too or that nothing he tried made a difference.
Jordan knocked on Zinnia’s open door—she was sitting on her bed, working on a puzzle. She’d found a stack of them in the game room. He’d ordered a small folding table for puzzles in progress so she could work on them wherever she wanted. That night it was her bedroom.
Her room was hers. He wasn’t invited.
Some nights it was the living room, though. He’d silently sit next to her, secretly hovering by pretending to work because talking too much was exhausting. She’d go to bed earlier and be asleep within five minutes. All her energy was gone.
“I brought you a snack.” He set the plate down on her nightstand.
Her weary, delayed reaction squeezed at his heart. “Oh. Thank you.”
He lingered in the doorway, trying to think of something else to say and aching to hold her. What would make her feel safe again? What could he do to convince her that she was wanted and loved?
He’d been staying up late, anxious for any sign that she needed him and hoping she’d come to his room. She’d said she felt safe sleeping together because she trusted him.
What if kissing changed that?
His vault had exploded the moment it happened, but it’d been nothing more than solace for her.
Realistically, that might’ve been the first time she’d ever done anything like it.
Grasping in near dark for another person.
Holding them to you. Sinking into their warmth.
Losing yourself in raw physical connection.
He’d been able to give her what she needed to cry it out.
The brief connection they’d shared that night had come, gone, and fully disappeared. She figured out he was in love with her and decided to cut him out of her life.
No.
That was only fear trying to convince him to run away like it always did. She couldn’t hurt him if he left first.
Jordan had promised to support her. They weren’t on the same page, and he didn’t know how to find hers yet, but he’d keep searching. He loved her too much to give up.
“Good night,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Zinnia
Being severely burned out and homesick for two weeks hadn’t been on Zinnia’s schedule. So, she showed up where she was supposed to be, went through all the required Zaffre motions, and did her best to be present. They probably didn’t even notice she was going through it. Or care.
She still wasn’t entirely better but was finally beginning to feel closer to her usual self.
Sort of.
While walking to the pocket forest, she took a rogue left turn and headed for the nearest kitchen instead. The house had three—one full and two smaller ones for outdoor entertaining at the pool and open yard, respectively. Naturally.
Honey Ginger clicked at her.
“Follow my lead or don’t.” Zinnia managed a smile that felt more demented than friendly. “I don’t care today.”
Production lived and thrived by scheduling, so she truly didn’t expect to cross paths with Wylie, randomly sitting on the floor and playing catch against the opposite empty wall.
He set one headphone back behind his ear. “Where are you going?”
“Rogue.”
He smirked. “Took you long enough.”
Two good things happened post-attack.
Grace had been right. Everyone was nice to her now, especially Lulie. She apologized for everything and kept changing her schedule to spend time with Zinnia instead.
But then, lo and behold, Eric had been granted visitation rights. He was with Lulie now, off doing whatever teenagers in love did.
Without his twin, Wylie had been left to wander around solo. Zinnia had only seen him at dinner lately.
“Is this what you’ve been doing all day?” she asked.
“There’s not much else around here. I don’t go into town anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Got tired of getting recognized.” He shrugged. “It’s never like, ‘Oh hey, I’ve seen your show, do you wanna hang out?’ Everyone is always so weird about it. Like, obviously taking pictures of me is kind of weird.”
“So, you chose the bubble.”
His face scrunched in confusion. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Nope, but it’s okay that you did.” She dropped her bag and sat next to him. “Personally, if someone did that to me, I’d take their pictures and go talk to them about it.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve never had a problem with confrontation until I came here. You Zaffres were just too much for me.”
“Because you were trying to be nice.” He said it so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. His camera pod noticeably shifted positions to get a better angle.
“I was,” she admitted. “I really did want everyone to like me. At first.”
“But now you’re rogue.”
“I am.” She grinned. “I’m also too stubborn to actually give up.”
Wylie started throwing and catching the ball again. Visions of being “accidentally” beaned in the forehead made her instinctively lean away from him.
“Alfie told me you like mysteries. Do you like horror stories too?” he asked.
“Only if there’s a strong mystery plotline.”
“Do you like podcasts?”
“I don’t dislike them. Why?”
“There’s a horror fiction podcast I think you might like.
It’s hard to explain without spoiling it, but basically, it’s about this guy who records himself reading supernatural statements made by other people.
Everything is connected like a conspiracy, and he also talks to coworkers and stuff. It’s really good.”
“Send me the name. You have my number, right?” she asked, purposefully leaving that door open for him.
He nodded. “A huge part of the story is about fear, like all different kinds and how their edges bleed together. What’s the scariest thing you can think of?”
“Mmm, don’t know. I don’t usually go around thinking about scary things.”
“Oh. I do.” His nonchalant shrug tickled her.
Zinnia couldn’t remember the last time she had a real conversation with a teenage boy. He was really making her work for it.
“If I think about something and I get really afraid of it happening, that’s how I know it’s actually important to me,” he said. “Lu is…I know we fight a lot, and it doesn’t seem like it but…Lu is…”
Ah, so that was it.
He swallowed hard and squeezed the ball in his right hand so tight it shook. “Lu is…”
“So important that it’s hard to put into words? I get it.”
His ragged inhale was answer enough. “I just wanted to say thank you. We treated you like shit and you—” He paused with a headshake. “Thank you. That’s it.”
“Water under the bridge.” She nodded, fully committed to making this easy for him. “I’d hug you if you seemed like the type.”
“I’m not.”