Page 81 of Broken Trails
Well, I thought I did. But even to my own ears, the words sound weaker than they used to. Jeff begins talking again—something about timelines, dates, legal filings—but I barely hearit. My eyes fall on Dani, who’s watching me too closely. Her brow creases slightly, her head tilting. There’s a softness in her gaze, something thoughtful.
“You’re different,” she says, interrupting Jeff’s ramble.
I arch a brow. “Different how?”
“You smiled the whole time you talked about them. This town. That never used to happen.” Her smile tilts, teasing but gentle. “You don’t seem so wound up.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly, but my lips betray me, tugging at the corners.
Jeff shrugs, gesturing toward me with his wine. “She’s not wrong.”
I sink deeper into the armchair, trying to brush off the weight of their stares, but they’ve already seen through it.
“I don’t think you hate being here as much as you say,” Jeff adds, all-knowing and smug.
Great. Another person who can see straight through my bullshit. Sprinkles trots in from the kitchen and promptly launches herself onto my lap, settling in as though she’s earned the right to judge me, too. She starts to purr, loudly, pressing her cheek into my thigh.
“My point exactly,” Dani says, her tone smug. “When would you have ever entertained the idea of a pet? You didn’t even want to babysit my niece with me last Christmas. Now you’ve got a hissing demon who thinks you’re her emotional support human.”
Jeff arches a brow. “And how are you managing that, by the way?”
I roll my eyes. “Just fine, thank you. Are you doubting my ability to keep something alive?”
Jeff doesn’t even blink. “Absolutely. You did once manage to kill a succulent because you forgot it existed.”
I scoff, but before I can defend myself, his gaze flicks to the corner of the room, by the kitchen bench. His brows lift, lips twitching. “Well, well,” he drawls, pointing. “Is that a jungle gym? A four-tier cat tower? Jeez, Zo. You’ve gone all out.”
My eyes narrow. “That wasn’t my doing.”
“Ah,” Dani says, eyes glinting. “So this mysterious someone got it?”
I say nothing.
“Hm. So…” Jeff says, drawing out the words. “Who is he?”
I nearly choke on my own saliva. “What?”
Jeff grins victoriously. “Don’t play dumb. I know that look. You’re trying too hard to be casual. You’re dodging. And you’re being vague.”
“There is no look,” I argue weakly. “And I’m not dodging anything.”
“There is a look,” Dani says, all sing-song and far too satisfied. “And you are absolutely dodging.”
I throw my head back against the cushion and groan. “You two are exhausting.”
Jeff raises his glass in salute. “And yet, you love us.”
God help me, I do.
We’ve just finished clearing the last of the takeaway containers, the sound of cardboard crinkling as I stuff them into the kitchen bin, when a knock echoes through the house.
Three firm taps.
My hands freeze mid-motion. That’s not the sound of the postie or some random neighbour. It’s confident. Familiar. Mystomach dips. Dani’s already halfway across the room, wine glass still in hand. “I’ve got it!”
“Wait—” My voice catches in my throat. Too late.
She swings the door open.
