5. Zoe

5

ZOE

Bath. Wine. Binge-watch Love is Blind or anything on Bravo or some other trash reality TV.

Tonight was my first night off in eight days, and I planned on making the most of it. After dinner, I was going to bubble bath it up. Drink copious amounts of Merlot. And rot my brain watching people whose lives were more messed up than mine.

" What you had was perfect, beautiful, and special. It was true love. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't have more perfect, more beautiful, more special, and another true love in your life. You're too young to give up on happily ever after, darlin'. "

Mrs. Beaumont's words had been floating in and out of my head for the past two days. She didn't understand. No one did. She was right about one thing; what Austin and I shared was beautiful, it was special, and it was perfect. It was true love. But it was also once in a lifetime. I knew that I was never going to have that again.

It didn't matter if there was a handsome, funny doctor who checked every box on paper; he wasn't Austin. No one was. Until I stopped comparing every man I met to him, there was no way I could ever move on with someone else. But I didn't know how to not do that.

Because no one had ever made me feel the way Austin did, he made me feel safe and dangerous, protected and independent, calm and crazy. All he had to do was look at me, and nothing else mattered. It was like that from the first time we locked eyes. It was us against the world. I knew he would do anything for me. He'd go to the end of the earth and back for me.

So why did he have to go back to clear that final building?

Tears began to build, but I wiped them away.

No. I was not going to go there. Austin had to have his reasons for what he did. I was not going to question them. He promised me he'd come home to me and AJ, and I knew that if it were up to him, he would have kept that promise.

Walter hummed as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen. I noticed he was limping a little and using the walls for balance. I'd brought him home a walker and cane six months ago, but they were both collecting dust behind his door. The man was proud. Too proud to go to physical therapy or use any sort of assistance that might prolong his ability to walk without needing a wheelchair, but what did I know? I was just a nurse.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm. Somethin' sure smells mighty good." He inhaled theatrically as he stepped beside the oven.

Daisy, my four-legged sous chef, stirred at my feet, making room for Walter.

"It's your favorite." I stirred the cheese into the macaroni.

Over the past few months, Walter had lost a few pounds, and his appetite wasn't what it once was. I realized that both changes had coincided with a health kick I'd started, which involved cutting out dairy and gluten. Since he refused to go and see a doctor, I figured I'd put him on a diet for high blood pressure and arthritis-related inflammation. My plan had backfired, though, and I feared he wasn't getting enough calorie intake thanks to my bland, no salt dinners.

So tonight, we were having fried chicken, green beans, and my county fair blue ribbon-winning mac and cheese. The only "healthy" concession I was making was that I was cooking the fried chicken in the air fryer instead of oil in the skillet.

"You spoil me somethin' rotten. I don't know what I did to deserve you, my girl." He patted my arm as he hobbled by me on his way to his La-Z-Boy.

"The feeling's mutual." The truth was, I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him. After Austin died, I'd stayed in school while caring for a toddler. I had nowhere to go, but Walter said that this was our home, and it always would be. That was almost ten years ago.

I stirred the mac and cheese as I turned to AJ, who was seated on the island. "How's the homework coming along?"

AJ shrugged. He'd always struggled in school. Then, last year, he was diagnosed with dyslexia. Since that time, he'd been working with a tutor who specialized in teaching literacy skills and strategies for people with dyslexia. His teachers were all aware of his diagnosis, and they accommodated him to support his learning differences and give him a greater chance to succeed.

He still didn't love school, but since his diagnosis, it had gotten a little bit easier.

My phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced down and saw it was a message from my mother, reminding me that we were having dinner on Sunday. I saw my parents once a month for Sunday dinner. Some people might find it strange that I lived less than a mile away from my parents and only saw them once a month, but that was still one time too many for me.

The only reason I subjected myself to three hours of judgment and patronizing disdain, wrapped up in a bow of superiority handed down to me from a very high horse, was for AJ. He wanted to know his grandparents, so I indulged him in the once-a-month dinner.

I would never allow him to spend time with my parents alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. I had no problem with him seeing my dad without me, but that would never happen because my mother knew she wasn't permitted unsupervised access, so therefore, she would not allow my father that privilege either.

My mother was a cruel, distant woman who weaponized religion. She raised me in a hell fire, and brimstone household where everything I did was a sin. If I wanted a cookie, it was gluttony. If I wanted to take a nap, it was slothful. If I wanted new clothes for school, it was pride. If I thought that someone had a cute hairstyle, it was envy. If I wanted an allowance, it was greed. If I looked at a boy, it was lust.

Needless to say, when I came home pregnant at sixteen years old, she disowned me, called me every name in the book, and kicked me out with the clothes on my back. I thought, for once, my dad would have stood up for me, that he wouldn't have let her say those things or allow her to make me homeless, but he stood by and didn't say a word.

Thankfully, Walter allowed me to come and live with him and Austin. Two months later, my dad agreed to go in front of a judge and sign a paper allowing me to marry Austin, who had signed up for the Marines. He did it without my mother knowing. I still wish I could have been a fly on the wall when she found out about it.

The timer went off, indicating the chicken was done.

"Time to set the table." Using tongs, I pulled the chicken out of the air fryer and set them in the towel-lined basket. Daisy sniffed the air, licking her lips with approval.

AJ moved around the kitchen, grabbing the plates and silverware. I emptied the green beans and mac and cheese into serving dishes and filled our glasses with ice while AJ took the food to the dining room table. Because of my work schedule and AJ's baseball practice, we only got to eat dinner as a family properly about once a week, but when we did, I liked to do it at the table with the TV off. Walter usually complained that he was missing his shows, but I think deep down, he enjoyed the family time.

"Dinner's ready." I poked my head around the corner to the front room.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," he grunted as he switched off the TV.

By the time I'd filled our glasses with our preferred drinks, mine with Diet Coke, AJ's with Dr. Pepper, and Walter's with ginger ale, Daisy, AJ, and Walter were all in their dinner spots. Daisy had a bed in the dining room that she laid on while we ate, a tactic that only slightly deterred her from begging at the table for the duration of our meal.

I handed out the drinks and then took my place. We joined hands.

"Who's turn, is it?" AJ asked.

"I think it's yours." I nodded toward him.

We always said grace when we sat down to eat a meal. It was something that Walter's late wife had done, and he'd carried on the tradition once she passed. I remembered the first time I was there for dinner and how nice it was to pray in a house where it wasn't used to make me feel bad. After dinner, I was quiet, and Walter had asked what was wrong. I told him about how I felt when we prayed, and he said, " In this house, we pray to give thanks, out of love, and when we need to talk to God. Not for punishment or shame ."

AJ took a deep breath. "Thank you, God, for this food and the roof over our heads and for our health and for the movie about Dad and for?—"

There was a knock at the door, and I jumped an inch off my chair as Daisy barked loudly.

"I'll get it!" AJ shot straight up in the air like a Jack-in-the-Box.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked Walter as I stood.

"People know better than to interrupt me at supper time." He was already reaching across the table.

A little guilt crept in over the fact that I'd inadvertently been starving the poor man. Sure, my intentions had all been well and good. At his age, I'd wanted to make sure he didn't have a heart attack and help with inflammation, but the result had led to him scarfing down fried chicken like he was on death row, and it was his last meal.

Daisy let out two more barks before I heard the front door open and a husky voice ask, "Hi, is your mom home?"

The deep voice sounded vaguely familiar and sent a skitter of tingles racing down my spine, which I ignored as I stood and walked through the kitchen. Before I turned the corner, I felt a tickle of butterfly wings low in my belly in anticipation. Anticipation of what, I had no idea.

"Who's this?" I heard the man ask.

"That's Daisy," AJ responded.

"Hello, Daisy, you are such a pretty girl."

My head was down as I stepped around the corner. When I looked up, it took a beat before my brain caught up with what my eyes were seeing. My feet continued to move, walking at a steady pace before stopping next to my son, but I didn't feel them anymore. I couldn't feel my body at all. I was outside of it.

The man standing on my porch was the man I'd seen on the red carpet. The man whose assistant had been trying to get a hold of me. The man who was going to be playing the role of my late husband in a movie about his life.

Miles Ford was at my house.

Everyone talked about how hot he was. He'd been named the Sexiest Man Alive. He was on nearly every woman in the world's hall pass list. I'd always thought he was attractive, but this man, the man I was looking at now, was not just attractive.

His six-foot-four athletic frame, wide shoulders, broad chest, symmetrical face, strong jaw covered in a sexy bad-boy five o'clock shadow, whisky-colored bedroom eyes, and chiseled arms were all aesthetically pleasing. But what I hadn't expected was the intangible. What no one could have prepared me for was his primal, animal magnetism that was so potent I was choking on it. I was literally finding it difficult to breathe. As a healthcare professional, I truly believed that there was a lack of oxygen getting to my brain. My ears were ringing, and I was seeing stars—actual blinking flashes of light.

"Mom, Mom, Mom."

I heard AJ's voice, but it sounded far away.

When I felt my son pulling at my arm, I snapped out of my trance. "What?"

"Mr. Ford said hi ."

"Oh, hi." I blinked and looked up once more at Miles Ford.

The second we locked eyes again, I felt myself being pulled back into his vortex of sexiness. A black hole of hotness.

"Hi." He reached out his hand. "I'm Miles Ford."

"Zoe James." My arm felt heavy as I lifted my hand.

The second we touched, a bolt of awareness spread through my entire body, electrifying every cell and awakening every atom that I was comprised of.

I jerked my hand away as if I'd touched a hot stove.

What sort of voodoo magic did this man possess? I'd heard of charisma and sex appeal, but this was at the next level.

"I said he should stay for dinner, right ?" AJ repeated himself. Apparently…I couldn't say for sure because I hadn't heard him the first time. "We're having dinner, so he should stay, right, Mom?"

Dinner. How in the world was I supposed to have a meal with this man when I couldn't even greet him at my door without nearly passing out and becoming mute? I must be having a breakdown. It had to be from working all the hours. Everyone said it would catch up with me, and it finally had. I was having a lust-induced mental breakdown. My timing could not have been better…