Page 79 of The Marriage Narrative
“Those were never my rules, Lu.”
“But it made sense! You broke up because of the show. It was the only thing keeping you apart, but you’re here now. It would’ve been the perfect full circle storyline for Bea to come back.”
“Not to be dramatic—”
“You always are.”
“—but marrying Bea would ruin my life.”
“How?You two are meant to be. Literallyeveryonethinks so.”
“That doesn’t make it true. I get to choose how I live my life and who I end up with—not some ‘perfect’ storyline.”
Her frown deepened as he watched her struggle with reconciling the way she’d been raised with what he was saying. He stopped walking and took her by the shoulders.
“At the end of the day, I want you to be happy with your life. If that means staying here and following the rules, then do that. If that means branching out and becoming an actress, do that too. Take some acting classes, work on becoming the fucking best because you excel at everything you put your mind to. You don’t have to apologize to me. I love you exactly as you are, horrible temper included.”
“I love you too.” She gave him a hug. “I’m definitely going to apologize to Zinnia, though.”
“I think she’d appreciate that.”
“And I’m gonna watch out for her. She doesn’t really fit in here, but I think once she has more of us on her side, things will get better.”
Jordan laughed lightly, placing a hand on top of her head. “Let’s hope so.”
Unfortunately, hope wasn’tenough.
Over the next week, Zinnia slowly transformed into a shadow. Everyone commented on how her effusive light was fading and how quiet she was. Literal hours would pass without her speaking a single word during their schedules.
Mabel finally hissed at him midway through the second shadow week, ordering him to“Do something.”
As if he wasn’t already trying. They didn’t know she was like that in the bungalow too or that nothing he tried made a difference.
Jordan knocked on Zinnia’s open door—she was sitting on her bed, working on a puzzle. She’d found a stack of them in the game room. He’d ordered a small folding table for puzzles in progress so she could work on them wherever she wanted. That night it was her bedroom.
Her room was hers. He wasn’t invited.
Some nights it was the living room, though. He’d silently sit next to her, secretly hovering by pretending to work because talking too much was exhausting. She’d go to bed earlier and be asleep within five minutes. All her energy was gone.
“I brought you a snack.” He set the plate down on her nightstand.
Her weary, delayed reaction squeezed at his heart. “Oh. Thank you.”
He lingered in the doorway, trying to think of something elseto say and aching to hold her. What would make her feel safe again? What could he do to convince her that she was wanted and loved?
He’d been staying up late, anxious for any sign that she needed him and hoping she’d come to his room. She’d said she felt safe sleeping together because she trusted him.
What if kissing changed that?
His vault had exploded the moment it happened, but it’d been nothing more than solace for her. Realistically, that might’ve been the first time she’d ever done anything like it. Grasping in near dark for another person. Holding them to you. Sinking into their warmth. Losing yourself in raw physical connection. He’d been able to give her what she needed to cry it out.
The brief connection they’d shared that night had come, gone, and fully disappeared. She figured out he was in love with her and decided to cut him out of her life.
No.
That was only fear trying to convince him to run away like it always did. She couldn’t hurt him if he left first.
Jordan had promised to support her. They weren’t on the same page, and he didn’t know how to find hers yet, but he’d keep searching. He loved her too much to give up.
