Page 49 of Daddy's Ring
Stellan:How's it going?
Me:Better. She's softening.
Stellan:Good. Keep pushing. We'll figure out the marriage situation.
I close my eyes, thinking about Zola's almost-smile when Maeve laughed today. Thinking about the way she didn't pull away when our hands brushed reaching for the same book.
Thinking about the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't watching—like maybe she remembers too.
I can do this. I can be patient. I can prove I'm worth a second chance.
Even if it takes forever.
13
ZOLA
I'm cataloging new arrivals when the bell above the door chimes and Naomi walks in carrying two paper bags that smell like Indian food.
"Lunch delivery." She sets them on the counter, glancing around. "Where's Maeve?"
"Napping. Finally." I close the catalog, grateful for the interruption. My brain feels like static today—too little sleep, too much coffee, too many thoughts circling the same impossible problem. "You didn't have to come all the way here."
"I wanted to." She starts unpacking containers—samosas, chicken tikka masala, garlic naan. "Plus I wanted to check in. Make sure you're actually eating."
"I eat."
"Coffee and whatever pastries that guy brings you doesn't count." She hands me a fork, her expression pointed. "Speaking of which—when's he usually show up?"
My stomach drops. "What guy?"
"The tall, dark, and brooding one who's been coming by every day for the past two weeks." Naomi leans against the counter, studying me. "He looks all hot and bossy. You need that."
Declan. She's talking about Declan, and of course she saw him. I should have known she didn't just get busy. She probably left whenever she saw him here through the window.
"He's just—he's an old friend."
"An old friend who brings you breakfast and holds Maeve like she's made of glass and looks at you like you're the only person in the room." Naomi's smile is knowing. "That's some friend."
My throat tightens. "It's not like that."
"Why not? He's clearly interested. And you deserve something good, Zo. You've been through hell this past year."
I focus on opening a container, anything to avoid her eyes. "It's complicated."
"Everything's complicated. Doesn't mean you can't?—"
The door chimes again.
Declan walks in carrying coffee and what looks like lunch from the Italian place three blocks over. He freezes when he sees Naomi, his expression going carefully neutral.
"Didn't know you'd have company."
"Naomi was just—" I gesture vaguely at the food. "She brought lunch."
"So did I." He sets down his offerings, glancing between us. Something shifts in his face when he looks at Naomi—recognition, maybe, though I'm not sure how he'd know her. "I can come back later."
"No, actually, I should head out." Naomi grabs her purse, shooting me a meaningful look. "Someone has to pick up Jordan from his friend's place. Plus you two clearly have... whatever this is to figure out."
