“Because I want you to look back on your choices and know they were worth it in the end.”
Except a lot of my decisions don’t seem worth it, despite how necessary they felt in the moment. I want to tell her that and a lot more if she will only give me a chance.
“Give me a chance to explain myself. I’ve been…thinking about everything. And I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go because I was afraid. You were right. But I want to try again. With you.” My speech is stilted and awkward but it’s genuine.
She releases a resigned sigh, and my heart drops with it. “No. I’m not falling for this again. I gave you a chance and you blew it.”
“But—”
“No buts. What happens if you change your mind again? I won’t take that risk. I’ve been through enough, and honestly, I deserve better than anything you could half-heartedly offer me.”
I’m stuck slack-jawed, staring at her.
Her back tenses. “I need to get back to work. I’m on a deadline.”
“I could help you with that. No strings attached.” I take another look at the drawing.
Say yes and give me a chance.
“I think you’ve done enough.” She turns her chair, giving me her back.
She’s dismissing me. I’ve never felt so…awful. There’s an uncomfortable swell in my chest and a tightness in my throat that only intensifies the more I stare at Zahra’s back.
She’s really done with me, and it’s all my fault.
46
Zahra
I relish in the taste of my fresh glass of orange juice. It’s taken me a whole week after coming back from the hospital to regain my taste buds. While I might have been going a little stir crazy from all the bedrest, I was grateful for the break from Rowan and the Creator team. I wasn’t sure I would have had enough strength to be in the same room as him without crying or yelling.
Yesterday was a good test of my strength and I passed with flying colors. I was able to stay strong and look Rowan right in his dejected face without giving in to his request.
“This ended up in my stack of mail.” Claire drops an envelope in front of my plate.
“This is from two weeks ago!” I point at the date.
She shrugs. “I know, and I’m sorry. I promise to get more organized next week.”
I laugh without any pain today. “You always say that!” I yell at her back.
She chuckles under her breath as she walks back to her mess of a bedroom.
My fingers brush across my name written in cursive with an old ink pen. The return address is listed as The Kane Company.
That’s weird. I grab a knife from the kitchen and slice across the top.
My fingers shake as I pull out a folded piece of paper. I open it and my mouth drops open.
Brady Kane sent me a letter! It’s dated from before his accident, at around the same time we were working through the finishing touches on Nebula Land.
Dear Zahra,
I apologize in advance if my words are scrambled. It’s hard to sum up my thanks but I’ll try, if only because you deserve to know how much of an impact you had on my life. Even an old man like myself can learn a few new tricks, or at the very least be reminded of the old ones they’ve long since forgotten.
Gratitude? From Brady freaking Kane?! I’m the one who should be grateful that he took the time to work with me for a whole month.
Before I met with you about your proposal, I was in a dark place. I felt lost and unsure about myself for the first time in many years. But then you came into my office with a huge grin and all this pent-up imagination waiting to be explored. I was immediately impressed with your sharp mind and honest heart. It took me a while to understand why I felt an attachment to you, but I realize it’s because you reminded me of my younger self. Of someone yet untouched by money, fame, and the expectations that dull even the strongest creative minds.