Page 66 of Dreams and Desires

The store erupts into quiet giggles, and I catch a couple of kids whispering, “Did you see that? The mayor screamed like a girl!”

Brian’s face turns beet red, and he looks around at the smirking faces. “You’re gonna regret this, Zade,” he mutters, trying to save what little dignity he has left.

“Not as much as you’re regretting opening your mouth,” I reply, turning on my heel and heading for the checkout. As I pay for the groceries, the cashier gives me a grin, clearly impressed.

“Nice right hook,” she says, bagging my items.

“Thanks,” I reply with a smirk.

I head back to the cabin, my mood lifted after the encounter. When I get back, Juniper is awake, sitting up in bed. She looks a bit better but still weak. I set the groceries down and get to work in the kitchen. After what feels like forever, I finally taste the simmering soup and can honestly say it’s good. I pour her a bowl and bring it over, proud of the meal I managed to pull together.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice still soft but genuinely grateful.

“Don’t mention it,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She smiles faintly, but I can see she’s too tired to respond. I help her lie back down and tuck the blankets around her. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she whispers, her eyes already closing again.

“Yeah, well, someone has to make sure you don’t turn into a human popsicle,” I say, trying to sound gruff, but there’s an edge of concern in my voice I can’t quite hide.

Once she’s finished with the soup, she goes back to sleep. I guess she doesn’t have the energy to get out of bed today. I sit by her side, watching her breathe. The fire crackles in the background, filling the room with warmth as I try to wrap my head around how much this woman has managed to change me. But instead of dwelling on it, I just lean back in my chair, letting the warmth of the fire and the quiet presence of Juniper be enough for now.

When she wakes again, she seems a little stronger. We sit together by the fire, the cabin feeling almost cozy despite the storm outside.

“I’m sorry for everything,” I start breaking the silence. “For the way I’ve treated you, for everything that’s happened.”

She looks at me, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not all your fault, Zade. I was too trusting, too naive.”

“Naive, maybe. But strong too,” I say, reaching out to take her hand in mine.“You’re strong as hell, Juniper. You’ve dealt with more than most people ever would. And you’re still standing. That’s pretty damn impressive.”

Her eyes widen, and I can see the tears start to well up. I tighten my grip on her hand, wanting her to understand how much I mean it. “You’ve been through hell, and you’ve come out the other side. That’s something most people couldn’t do. You’ve got more guts than anyone I know.”

She looks down, a tear slipping down her cheek. I gently lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You’re amazing, Juniper. And anyone who can’t see that is a complete idiot. You deserve so much better than what you’ve been given. You deserve happiness, love, and someone who sees you for who you really are.”

She chokes back a sob, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Zade, stop. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Good,” I say, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Cry. You’ve been holding it in for too long. Let it out.”

And she does. She breaks down, her shoulders shaking as the tears flow. I pull her into my arms, holding her tight, letting her finally release all the pain and weight she’s been carrying. “I’m here for you,” I whisper. “Always.”

We stay like that for a long time, her sobs gradually quieting. When she finally pulls back, her eyes are red and puffy, but there’s a softness there, a vulnerability that she rarely shows.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “I needed to hear that.”

I place a kiss on her forehead, feeling my heart swell with something I’m not quite ready to name. “Anytime, Juniper. Anytime.”

Without another word, I lean in and kiss her, gentle and tender. For a moment, the world falls away, and it’s just the two of us, connected in a way that’s far beyond words.

When we finally pull back, her eyes are still glistening with tears, but there’s something new there too. A soft smile spreads across her lips, and it’s like the first real sunshine after a long, dark storm.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Juniper

The warmth of Zade’s embrace still lingers on my skin, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s finally falling into place. But that fleeting peace shatters when I hear the rumble of engines and the unmistakable flash of red and blue lights through the window. My heart leaps into my throat. Cops. My mind races, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but all I can focus on is the ominous feeling that this is far from good.

Zade notices it too, and he pulls away from me, his calm demeanor only making my anxiety spike higher. “Stay here,” he says calmly, like this is just another inconvenience and not a squad of police officers showing up at our door.

But standing still has never really been my thing—especially when something feels off. I follow him to the door. There’s this thudding in my chest that won’t quit, and everything around me just fades out. The porch light hits weird, stretching shapes across the steps. Two cops stand at the bottom. Neither of them shows any emotion on their face. That makes it worse. I can feel something bad coming.

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