Page 31 of Restored By the Mountain Man
"This can't be good," Ezra mutters, echoing my thoughts.
We walk into the distillery together, and Laurel immediately rushes toward me with guilt written all over her face.
"Zoe, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do."
"What's wrong?" I ask, dread pooling in my stomach.
Grayson steps forward, his expression grim. "Tom's parents are in town. They showed up at Laurel's old cabin this morning looking for you."
The words steal all the breath from my lungs. Tom's parents. Here. Now. Just when I was starting to feel like I could breathe again.
"What?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.
"They said they tried calling but your phone went straight to voicemail," Laurel explains, wringing her hands. "They were so upset, crying about the anniversary next week. I didn't know how to turn them away, so I told them they could wait at your cabin."
My vision starts to blur around the edges. The room feels like it's tilting, and I reach out blindly for something to steady myself.
Strong hands catch my shoulders and suddenly Ezra's face is in front of mine, his eyes focused and calm.
"Breathe, Zoe," he says softly, his voice cutting through the panic. "Look at me and breathe."
I try to follow his instructions but my chest is tight, like there's a band around my ribs preventing me from getting enough air.
"Where are you right now?" Ezra asks, using the same grounding technique I used on him a few days ago.
"The distillery," I manage to gasp.
"Good. What day is it?"
"Monday."
"What's my name?"
"Ezra." His name grounds me more than anything else and I feel my breathing start to slow.
"That's it," he murmurs, his thumbs stroking reassuring circles on my shoulders. "You're safe here. You don't have to see them until you're ready."
"I can't," I whisper, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't face them right now. They'll want to plan memorial services and look through his things and talk about him for hours like he just died yesterday instead of a year ago."
"Then you don't," Ezra says firmly. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."
Laurel steps closer, her face stricken with remorse. "Zoe, I'm so sorry. I should have told them you weren't available. I just panicked when they started crying."
"It's okay," I tell her, though my voice is shaky. "You were trying to be kind."
"Where will you go?" Grayson asks practically. "They're at your cabin."
Before I can answer, Ezra speaks up. "She'll stay with me."
The offer surprises everyone including me. This weekend we shared a bed out of necessity. Tonight, he's offering his home as sanctuary.
"Ezra, you don't have to—" I start.
"Yes, I do," he interrupts, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You helped me through my demons last night. Let me return the favor."
I search his face, looking for any sign that this is just politeness or obligation. Instead, I see determination and something deeper. Something that looks like protectiveness and care.
"Okay," I whisper, the word barely audible. But it's enough. Ezra's expression softens, and he nods.
