got high. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Eve, I’m sorry. I really didn’t come here to upset you. I just feel like you deserve to know. You of all people deserve to have all the information in this situation.”
She kept looking at me with that calm expression, those expertly made-up, understanding eyes. Stupid, beautiful bitch was being all kinds of patient and mature, which was more than I could say for myself.
If I was being completely honest, I’d avoided thinking about Zara—about how she’d betrayed me, about the cold look in her eye as she’d slammed that van door. It was no wonder having it brought up made me explode; it was the only time I ever expressed anything about it.
Sitting on that plush couch with Dana, the mild spring breeze that came through the window tickling the back of my neck, I realized I hadn’t processed the situation with Zara. At all. I’d shoved it into a black metal box and slammed the lid shut with a clang.
I stared at the emerald velvet cushion between us, running my hands over the soft fabric and taking a few breaths.
Finally, I lifted my gaze to meet hers. “What does she want, Dana? I can’t handle any more of her manipulation. I seriously don’t think I can take another . . . ” I trailed off, not entirely sure what I was getting at. Another betrayal? Another drama? Another bombshell I didn’t see coming?
Dana wrapped her hand around mine. Her fingers were warm and strong, but she didn’t linger. She just gave me a squeeze and released my hand. “I get it. That’s why I’m not here to plead her case. I’m not trying to get you to forgive her or whatever. I’m just keeping you informed. What you choose to do with the information is completely your call.”
Dana was going out of her way to not keep anything from me. She had no obligation to tell me anything, no stake in my happiness, but there she was, doing the right thing and giving me the truth. It couldn’t have been easy to raise such a difficult topic with her ex’s Vital and girlfriend. She was beautiful and gutsy.
I nodded, and she continued.
“She just keeps asking about you. How you are, what you’re doing, how you’re coping. I never give her any info—it’s against policy to give detainees information about the outside world, and I would never share anything without your consent anyway. Still, she never stops trying. More than anything though, she keeps begging me to bring you to see her. She keeps saying she needs to see you. Not wants—needs. She’s a little manic about it. I mean, she wasn’t exactly mentally stable to begin with, but I think the isolation and the removal of autonomy is only pushing her further into madness.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for her?” I remained calm, but I was defensive too.
“You’re not supposed to feel anything. Just sharing the facts,” Dana reminded me yet again.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I sighed. “This is just really hard for me. What do you think this is? Is she giving you guys intel? Or is she being difficult until she gets her way?”
“Nothing like that. In fact, she’s cooperating fully. She’s answered all our questions, even giving us extra information without us having to ask. She genuinely seems to hate Davis and even her own mother, although I don’t think there was ever any love lost there. As to what I think this is about—honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that she’s desperate to see you.” Dana shrugged.
“OK. Thank you for coming here to tell me.”
“It’s all good. Call me if you have any questions. Gabe has my number, even if Alec has deleted it. I have to get going or I’ll be late for work.” She got to her feet.
“I will. Thanks, Dana.” We shared a genuinely friendly smile.
After seeing her off at the front door, I wandered back into the sitting room and flopped onto the couch with a huff. I didn’t appreciate being forced to deal with my feelings around the Zara situation, but it was probably best I did anyway. It was on me that I hadn’t talked to anyone about it yet—let alone a mental health professional.
My mind rifled through the implications and possibilities. A big part of me wanted to go see her just to satisfy my curiosity; I never could resist a puzzle. But maybe that was