Chapter 35
Zaila
The comments from Natalie and Jay echoed through my mind for the rest of the day.
I’d considered going home to my parents’ house, but I couldn’t stomach being there without them.
With nowhere else to go, I’d ended up at Gunnar’s, just as I had for weeks.
Their words circled through my head as I circled the living room yet again.
“PR spin... Gunnar’s gold digger… Unprofessional...”
I didn’t fit in Gunnar’s world, and people immediately assumed the worst of me. They immediately began talking about me. Natalie had made it clear that when most people looked at me, they didn’t see Gunnar’s partner. They saw someone temporary.
I couldn’t do temporary—I wouldn’t. I made another loop around the living room as doubts slipped under my skin.
Hadn’t I wondered if he really meant it before?
Just last night, when he’d rolled close and whispered “love you” against my hair.
I’d wanted to believe those words—him. God, I wanted to.
But everything else seemed to work against that.
I smoothed my palms over my skirt, staring at my reflection in the darkened window. The woman who looked back seemed small, uncertain. Not the Zaila who walked into boardrooms without flinching. I was no longer the woman Daddy would be proud of. I was flailing…failing.
If I stayed here with Gunnar, I’d lose myself piece by piece.
I already was. This uncertainty about my place, and about whether I even had an internship at this point, only increased my anxiety as I waited for Gunnar to make our relationship real, as he’d promised to do.
Instead, I floundered, unsure and unaware of what was happening—between us but also within my team at work, let alone the larger organization.
I watched the press conference, my stomach rolling and dropping before it hardened as Gunnar ended it, stepping away from the mic without ever mentioning that he and I were dating.
He’d barely mentioned me at all—instead focusing on Jeff, Jay, and Lydia, making sure to name them and detail their part in the plot to distract and hurt the Wildcatters organization.
Perhaps I was just a footnote.
That thought caused more hurt and confusion to grow, so perhaps it was better to leave before Gunnar pushed me out. Yes. That was smart. I’d walk away while I could still stand on my own two feet. Here I just seemed to sink deeper and deeper into quicksand.
It was past time for me to get on with my life. To find something where I wouldn’t be temporary.
Gunnar
This whole day had been anticlimactic, though it should have felt like a victory. Jeff Cross could no longer cause chaos or pain, and the Wildcatters could breathe again. Instead of relief, though, for the entire drive home, Zaila’s empty office weighed on my mind.
When I entered, the house was quiet. Zaila sat at the kitchen island, her long, elegant fingers wrapped around a mug of tea. The lamplight caught the purplish smudges under her eyes. She lifted her head and gave me a polite smile, the kind you’d give a stranger holding open a door.
“An eventful day,” she murmured.
“Yes, and I was frustrated because I missed you,” I said. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
“I’m okay.”
Zaila wasn’t okay. It was like I could see her slipping away, and now I wasn’t sure if it was the grief or the hell Jay had put her through.
“I’m sorry the meetings took forever, but I had to hash out details with Silas and talk to the press.
We had to sort through Jeff’s contract, the lawyers—long day. ”
Her gaze dropped to the tea. “I heard he’s gone.”
“Yeah.” I dragged a hand over my face. “It really should have happened sooner. That’s on me. I didn’t because…” I trailed off, not wanting to delve into the mistakes that had caused Zaila so much pain.
She nodded. “I’m glad. For the team.”
“I want your time with the Wildcatters to be happier,” I said with a long sigh.
She stiffened, her head still bent. “It’ll be better when you return.
I’ll make sure you have the support you need.
” I crossed to her and brushed my fingers over her shoulder.
She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean in either. She was just…still. Too still.
“Zaila. Please, tell me. Are you okay?” I asked, my heart thumping against my ribs.
“Fine.” The word was flat.
I wanted to press, but I was bone-tired and afraid that if I pushed, I’d break whatever fragile thread still tethered her here. After a long moment of debate, I let it go. We’d talk soon, when we were rested, when I had the ring I’d commissioned.
Everything would be perfect.
She rose from the stool, setting the mug in the sink. “I’m tired, and I need to make sure I have everything together for Lennon and Vivian’s wedding.”
“Zaila—”
She glanced back, her expression unreadable, before she offered a small smile. “Like you said, it’s all fixed now.” She headed upstairs. “Both Jeff and Jay are gone.”
Later, when I slid into bed after wolfing down a sandwich over the sink, she was already on her side with her back to me. I curled close and rested my hand on her waist. She didn’t move, didn’t give any indication she was awake, though I was pretty sure she was.
“Love you,” I whispered into her hair.
Her breathing was steady, even. Maybe she was asleep. Well, I wouldn’t wake her. We’d talk after the wedding.