WhenIwas about nine,Iwas in a foster home whereItried so hard to get that same kind of loveIhad felt with theJensens.Iwould spend hours cleaning the kitchen, making it sparkle.Whenmy foster mom saw it, she would say things like, “Thislooks amazing.Thankyou.”Andit kind of felt like it was enough.Atleast,Itold myself it was.
Butthen, one day, my after-school young detectives club meeting was canceled, soIgot home earlier than my foster parents were expecting me.Iwas walking to the kitchen as one of my foster siblings was presenting my foster mom with a bouquet of dandelions that she had picked in the back yard.Myfoster mom accepted them, gave the girl a tight hug, and said, “Ijust love you so much.”
Ihad never been treated that way.Ihad never heard the words, “Ilove you” outside of my first foster family.Itwas my confirmation thatIam not worthy of love no matter how hardItry.Ledgerjust doesn’t know it yet.
Thetears start again, but this time, it’s not because of the love and gratitudeIfelt moments ago.It’sthe tears of the lost, lonely little girlIused to be.Thelost, lonely little girl who still lives inside me.
Iremind myself thatIfigured out long ago thatIdon’t need love.Iwas built to be an intelligence operative.Intelligenceoperatives aren’t lovable.Youcan’t be both an operative and be lovable.Theycan’t coexist.Iaccepted that a long time ago.
SoLedgershowing me this kind of love feels like a knife to the heart.Iwant it so badly, andIknow that the lock is supposed to represent that it isn’ttemporary, butIknow that it is.Ifhe knew the real me, deep down, he’d know thatI’mnot worthy of his love.Whichmakes it not real.It’sa spelling bee trophy thatIdidn’t actually win.
AndIwant to hold onto it so desperately, butIknow that it’ll only make it harder.It’llmake the wound deeper.
Ledger’sface is so full of love.Hereaches out and wipes at my tears first with his thumb and then with his knuckles. “Ilove you,Zoe,” he whispers.
Iknow he does.AndIrealize that this painI’mgoing to feel, the pain that’s going to just keep getting worse the longer this goes on— this pain is not only going to take down me.Theblast radius will take downLedger, too.
Myheart starts to race andIcan’t seem to take in enough air.I’mbreathing fast, but not deep, becauseIcan’t seem to get my tight chest to let in more air.Andit’s just so hot in here.Theheat is suffocating, making it even more difficult to breathe.
“Areyou okay?”Ledgerasks, concern all over his face.
No,Iam not.Istand and shake out my hands, trying to shake away the heat, repeatedly tugging at my shirt to get more air flowing, butIstill can’t get enough oxygen, andI’mstarting to get dizzy.
Ledger’slooking alarmed now.Hisarms are moving like they want to do something— anything— to help. “Zoe, are you okay?Whatis wrong?”
“Whatis wrong,”Isay, feeling likeI’mshouting the words, except thatIdon’t have enough oxygen for shouting, “is that we don’t get to live normal lives,Ledger!Operativesdon’t get normal lives!Operativesdon’t get to fall in love!”
Insteadof just agreeing, or even letting me push him away, he steps closer to me, then envelopes me in a hug, pulling me tight to him.Onearm is across my back and he’s running the other hand down my hair.Overand over, he says, “Shh.It’sokay.Everythingis okay.”
Itis not okay.It’snot.
Butfeeling his strong, protective arms around me, his low voice repeating that it’s going to be okay, calms me anyway.Itisn’t long before my lungs let me breathe again and it doesn’t feel so stifling hot.
Whenmy heart rate starts to return to something edging closer to normal,Ipull back.Helets one hand slide down my arm until he’s got his fingers entwined with mine.Thenhe reaches up and tucks a lock of hair back into my braid.Whenhis eyes meet mine again, he says, “‘Operativesdon’t get normal lives?’Oryou don’t feel like you can?”
Heseems to have it figured out, soIguess it is just me.
Ina voice that’s so calm and sweet and loving that it makes my heart ache with longing, he says, “Yousaid you don’t think you deserve me.Ifanything, it’s the other way around.You,Zoe, deserve so much more thanIcould ever give you.”
Ilook into his eyes, scanning them for a long moment, seeing the full depth of which he believes those words.
Then, with my clomping boot,Iturn and run.
CHAPTER 31
LET ME BE BRIEF
LEDGER
Istill don’t understand what happened last night.Thingsseemed to be going so well, then suddenly, they weren’t.Ichased afterZoeto find out what was wrong, but she had just said, “Ledger, please.Ineed to go.”AndIcould tell by the look on her face that she really did— what she most needed was space.
Asmuch asIwanted to go to her and make things better ifIcould,Igave her space.Butknowing that she was distressed made it so hard.I’mproud of myself for not giving in until this morning whenItexted to ask if she was okay.Ijust need to know that she’s okay.
Ihaven’t gotten a text back yet, andIcan’t concentrate on anything at work.Eventhough we got word this morning that theTrustpiece inDublinhas been stolen and has been making its way acrossEurope.
We’vebeen watching its movement all day.Justafter lunch, we were unsure whether the men vying forAragundi’sempire were heading straight toSerbiato get theTrustpiece inBelgradeor if they were heading back to their base.Therehas been a flurry of activity here, planning for all possibilities.
Then, moments ago, we found out that they are heading back to their base, which we now know is somewhere inMontenegro.Sothe directors of both theCSAand theCIAhave called a joint briefing late this afternoon.
