Zoya’s P.O.V
It was in those tender moments, as the evening shadows lengthened, that I began to realize the depths of his unwavering devotion.
Would Silas have done the same for me, if he was in Ezra's place? I couldn't help but compare the two of them, until I shook my head to snap myself out of it.
Silas was gone. He was never coming back. And I did not want him back either. Not after all the lies and the betrayals.
"Cam had been worried sick all day," Ezra said, "she wanted to come see you but she wasn't able to leave the clinic because there was an emergency patient with a broken arm."
As Ezra's words reached my ears, I felt a pang of guilt intertwine with my fever-induced haze. Cam, my dear friend and colleague, had spent the entire day fraught with worry about my well-being. And I hadn't even thought about her once.
Now she was stuck in the clinic, having to tend to patients on her own. What kind of colleague was I if I didn't go and help her?
The weight of her concern settled heavily upon my heart, as I realized the extent of the burden I had unintentionally placed upon her.
With a newfound determination, I mustered every ounce of strength within me, attempting to rise from the confines of my bed, but Ezra was right there to stop me. “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice wasn’t harsh…just a little rough around the edges.
"I have to go help her," I insisted. “If there’s a patient with a broken arm, she will need my help.”
But Ezra, ever watchful and protective, gently restrained me with a firm hand on my shoulder.
"It’s been taken care of, Zoya." He implored, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and affection. "Cam took care of the patient perfectly well and he’s now resting in the lodge and will be transported to the City Hospital tomorrow. She specifically asked me to visit you since she couldn't reach you."
His words echoed in the small space between us, a gentle reminder of the compassion and selflessness that still existed in the world no matter how often it tried to break me.
Relinquishing my futile attempt to stand, I sank back into the soft embrace of the bed. Gratitude welled up within me, mingling with the weariness that consumed my body. In the midst of my physical and emotional turmoil, a profound sense of interconnectedness enveloped me.
This feeling of being cared for, of having people look out for me, was so foreign, so alien, that I had never known how much I needed it until now that I was on its receiving end.
Maybe there still was some good in this world. Maybe, even though my whole life had turned out to be a lie, this place was still something worthwhile.
"Ezra," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please tell Cam that I owe her one, big time. Also, tell her that I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there today. I really appreciate everything she did."
"Of course, Cam will understand, Zoya. You don’t have to worry about a thing," he said with a small smile, but like all things, it was gone as soon as it came. "By the way, I found her car crashed on the side of the road on my way here. But don't worry about it. I already asked some people to pick it up and get it fixed."
Once again, I was filled with a mix of gratitude and unease. My car, a twisted wreckage on the side of the road, was a stark reminder of the events I had been through.
That car, though shitty, had been with me through thick and thin. I was upset to know that it was severely damaged. It was like having the memories associated with that car ripped out of me. Stolen.
"Anyway," he said, clapping his hands together to get my attention. "You should focus on getting better, so you can get back to work as soon as possible. Don't worry, I'll be here to take care of you."
"Don't you have work?" I croaked, worried about the town that had welcomed me even though I hadn't been the best guest, I think. "You’re the sheriff. You probably have tons of things to do."
Ezra made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It's okay," he assured me. "They don't really need me back at the office unless it's something reallyurgent, and when that happens, they'll contact me."
His smile was breathtaking as he sat on the foot of the bed. "So I can stay here by your side for as long as you want. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
Oh, Ezra. Sweet, kind and selfless Ezra. It made me feel so horrible, having to keep a secret from him, especially one so important.
But that was when a through struck me.
Why did I have to keep Silas's secret anymore? He was gone wasn’t he? I didn't have to keep protecting Silas. Not when he lied to me all along.
I should tell him. Especially since the information that I had could help Ezra catch the killer of his mate.
So, as Ezra approached me with a thermometer in hand, his gaze filled with genuine care, a sudden surge of courage surged within me. The weight of secrecy had grown unbearable, and I knew I could no longer withhold the truth from him, not when I was now sure that it was Silas who might be Lily’s killer.
"Ezra," I uttered, my voice trembling slightly with apprehension. "There's something I need to tell you. Something really important. But before that…I need to tell you something as well."
His brows furrowed in concern as he registered the seriousness in my tone. With gentle curiosity, he urged me to continue, a silent assurance that he was there to listen and understand. "What is it?" he asked. “You know you can tell me anything."
"I know," I confessed, my words hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of revelation. "I know what you truly are."