Chapter 10Janie

Chapter 10 Janie

I heard his footsteps behind me but didn’t turn around. I didn’t know why he’d followed me, but I knew it was him. It had to be him. People didn’t randomly wander around the bush behind my house.

I waited for him to call my name, to force me to respond. I’d have to show my face. I imagined my swollen eyes and my blotchy, red cheeks streaked with tears.

But he didn’t call for me. So, when I reached the hunting cabin, I sat down and waited. In my peripheral vision, I could see his white shirt peeking behind a silver fern. It was definitely Emir. Why was he standing there?

I took a few breaths and attempted to write something, but no words came to mind. I doodled them along the side of the page, biding time. I still didn’t feel ready. I couldn’t talk to him. Yet, I felt oddly content with his presence. He cared enough, for some reason, to be here and that gave me hope. It elevated my insignificant existence.

And then something crashed.

I didn’t look at the source of the sound. I’d been so focused on his presence that my entire attention zeroed in on the spot where he stood. I looked at him, and saw him hurdling an exposed root, shaking the ferns as he scrambled to get away.

“Emir!”

He froze, then slowly turned around and stepped into the clearing. “Hello.”

I gestured for him to step closer, and he did, looking half spooked, half embarrassed.

I wiped my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you. I was worried.” He scratched the back of his head.

“About me?” My heart squeezed at the way he looked away, fingers still deep in his hair.

He turned to me with a frown. “Well, you ran into the forest, all by yourself. It seemed… dangerous.”

A little laugh bubbled out of me like a surprise gift, lightening the load. “Dangerous?”

He walked closer until he was looming over me. “What if there’s a bear? Or a snake?”

“New Zealand doesn’t have bears or snakes.”

He groaned, scratching his head again. “Just an example. There are always dangerous things in the wild.”

I laughed, despite the pain still sitting in my chest. “The most dangerous thing in the New Zealand bush is the whitetail spider, and even that’s not lethal.”

“Are you serious?”

I smiled at his confusion, blinking away a fresh batch of tears. “I appreciate your concern, though.”

He dipped his chin, searching for my eyes. “Even if the forest is not dangerous, you’re upset. So, I’m worried.”

I turned away, summoning all my willpower to regain some control. “I’ll be okay. I’ll meet you back at the house, okay?”

Despite my best efforts, my voice cracked, and I cursed under my breath. Fucking Shaun. I’d never been like this. I’d always been able to reel it in. I’d always been able to rise above it.

Grunting with pain, he lowered himself onto the cabin steps, right next to me. “I can’t leave you here by yourself, Janie. Not like this.”

“Like what?” I spat, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “Emotional? I’m not allowed to be emotional? In private?”

I risked a glance at him and met a shocked pair of brown eyes. “Of course, you’re allowed to. But can you come back to the house with me and cry there? I’d feel better if I knew you were safe.”

I blinked at him, trying to process the words. His face held no judgment, only concern. The longer I stared at that pair of eyes, the less shame I felt. Something about him made me feel okay to be seen, even in my current state. “You want me to be safe when I cry?” I narrowed my eyes, too curious about him to even care about how red and puffy I looked.

He nodded.

“And you followed me because you thought New Zealand had bears and snakes? Or because I was upset?”

He huffed, a slight glow of embarrassment on his cheeks. “I did read about New Zealand flora and fauna.”

“So, you followed me because I was upset? How did you know I was upset?”

“I saw the newspaper. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. But I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Emir.” I smiled, a warm glow bursting in my chest. “That’s sweet. Dangerously sweet.”

“Dangerously?”

I sighed and nodded. He was so direct with me I had no choice. The truth beckoned forward like it had been waiting to be released. “I’m feeling very vulnerable, and you’re being very sweet. Right now, you’re the most dangerous thing in the New Zealand bush, for me.”

He tilted his head, that frown between his eyes deepening. I couldn’t resist running my thumb across it, smoothing it like before. His hand jerked towards me, but halted in the air, fingers curling into a fist. I stared at the white knuckles, my breath hot and heavy, my stomach suddenly as tight as that hand, as if he was squeezing my insides. The earthy smell of the forest intensified.

“I’d never hurt you, Janie. I don’t hurt women.”

“Love hurts, Emir. It hurts the most.”

He flung his arms around his bent knees, blowing out a deep breath. “You’re right.”

He’d been hurt. I’d wondered about it, and now, I was sure. Would he one day tell me what had happened? Did I want him to?

“How old are you, Emir?” I asked.

His chin jerked up and he looked at me quizzically. “Thirty-five.”

I sighed. “Baby.”

“What? You can’t be older than me.” His gaze intensified, studying my face.

“I’m 41, Emir.”

“Oh.” He turned to gaze at a tall kauri tree. “Well, you don’t look it.”

We sat in silence for a long time, listening to the birds and the wind that rustled the leaves. I wanted to touch him again. That moment my thumb had rested on his forehead, I’d felt okay. Attached to life. And now I was drowning again. Fighting to stay afloat.

“Could you hold me?” I finally asked. “Only for a moment.” I was too old for him, but he was here. Maybe I could lean on him a little, to get back on my feet.

Emir looked a little shell shocked but edged closer. Quietly grunting from pain, he draped his arm around my shoulder.

“You still sore from Pilates?”

“Injured to the point of needing a wheelchair.”

I chuckled. “I’m sorry. Sounds like you need another session.”

“You nearly murdered me with your weird exercise routine and now you suggest I need more of the same?”

I heard the lightness in his voice, and my heart fluttered. “Emir? Are you joking to make me feel better?”

“Sorry, it’s not my domain.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder.

He squeezed me tighter. “Anything you need, Janie.” His fingers stroked my shoulder, fast and restless, yet restrained.

Emotion welled in my chest, but it was quickly replaced by fluttering. Intense fluttering. I imagined what those fingers would feel like on my skin. I shoved my journal and pen into my robe pocket and took his other hand. “Anything, huh?” My laugh sounded a bit choked.

“Anything you need,” he said again, and I heard it in his voice now. Those long fingers curled tighter around my shoulder.

“What if I asked you to kiss me?” My voice was barely above a whisper and a shiver ran through me. I hadn’t felt like this with anyone in such a long time. My heart hammered so hard I feared it would completely lose the plot.

Emir turned to look me in the eye, capturing my face between his huge hands. “I would be torn, Janie. Because I want to, but it’s not right. We’re not… right for each other.” His eyes held both desire and pain.

“Why?”

“I’m a guest in your house. And I’m not like my brother. I’m not a romantic. I’m not who you’re looking for. You’re feeling sad, but I’m only here for two weeks. It’d be foolish to get involved.”

I blew a frustrated sigh, sucking in my lower lip. “Who said anything about getting involved? I only wanted a kiss. I wanted to feel… alive.” I pushed his hands away and stood up. “But I guess you’re right. Let’s go back.”

He shot up as well, wincing from pain. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.” I stomped down the path, not looking over my shoulder.

He followed me in silence, and we made it back in record time. I wrestled the front door open, making sure he couldn’t jump in to help, and ran into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. There, I crumbled onto the floor against it, heaving cries of shame.

He found me hideous. Or at least not good enough in some way. I was too old. Too puffy-eyed and snotty. I waited until the cries fizzled out and peeled myself off the floor. Shaun had done a number on me; I thought as I undressed and stepped into the shower. I had to get myself under control. And most importantly, I had to stop throwing myself at Turkish strangers. I must have made the poor man so uncomfortable. I shuddered, remembering the pain behind those brown eyes.

As I scrubbed myself clean, I made a promise to myself. I’d work through this pain, just like I’d worked through everything else. And I’d keep it to myself.

I’d also nip this stupid crush in the bud. I’d date someone else. Someone respectable. My body resisted the idea, but my mind was firm. I wasn’t a fan of dating apps. In fact, I was terrified of them. Everyone knew my face, so it was almost impossible to tell if any interest in me was genuine or not. I’d have to find someone with a reasonably high profile, who understood what it was like. Someone local, who actually wanted to live here. Unlike Shaun. Or Emir.

I leaned my exhausted body against the ceramic tiles, letting the water run down my face. Like crying, but more efficient. And that’s when the answer came to me.

As much as Tabitha turned my stomach, she was right. The recently widowed pastor, who I’d met in passing at Tabitha’s son’s wedding, was the perfect fit. Handsome, nice, and local. Someone at the heart of the community. Not in the public eye but known and respected in this town. And now, single. I’d barely given him a second glance at the wedding and couldn’t remember anything he’d said. But he’d had a nice voice. Resonant, slightly soporific. I remembered the old ladies flocking around him, vying for attention. He must have had some charisma, even if he hadn’t particularly caught my eye. But I’d been married at the time, just like him.

Okay. I closed my eyes, trying to recall Len. A good head of light brown hair, a fit body, a nice voice, taller than me. Not imposing like Emir, but tall enough. I had to stop thinking about Emir. Back to Len, I ordered myself, getting out of the shower and wrapping myself in a towel. Len was the smart, safe choice. He probably wasn’t looking for a quick fling with a has-been celebrity he could boast about to his buddies. And if I got into a stable relationship and got some, I could stop humiliating myself with younger men like Emir.

Would Len even be interested in going out with me? I dressed up and, steeling my nerves, reached for my phone. Tabitha would know, and she’d be more than happy to get involved.