Chapter 17

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He was crushing her too hard. “Zach, I can’t breathe,” Julianne uttered.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he sighed, not hearing her.

“Zach, I can’t breathe,” she repeated.

“I’m sorry,” he said and let her go. As his warmth left her and as the cold came rushing back to surround her, she had the sudden urge to pull him right back. But his eyes turned blank again, like it had been these past week. The tenderness and the concern she saw earlier that almost melted her were gone.

Julianne cleared her throat and bent her head, feeling awkward. She felt him step back and walk towards the door to shut it close. This was her chance to say she was sorry, to patch things up, but her tongue was betraying her and no words could come out of her mouth.

“I believe there’s food here, have you eaten yet?” Zach stated, looking around but her. He walked to the small cabinet in the corner of the room and started searching.

He was still dripping wet. She wanted to tell him to get dry before he got sick, but she couldn’t. She was speechless. She was afraid. She was afraid he’d brush her off.

He came looking for you, he still cares, a voice deep inside her nudged.

He feels responsible. I’m on his land and whatever happens to me will be on him, she reasoned out.

But you still have to say sorry, you dimwit, another voice urged.

“Zach,” okay, that did not come out right because it was more like a broken whisper. “Zach,” she croaked, louder this time.

“I only have canned goods here,” he uttered without looking back at her, and it seemed that he didn’t hear her call out his name. “You should dry up, Julianne,” he added, standing up, his back still facing her.

Oh God, he was still angry. He called her Julianne. He never called her that whenever they were alone.

“Zach, I’m—”

“We better build a fire,” he did not let her finish her sentence. “Go change your clothes, there are some over there,” he motioned with his head at the little bed across the room.

Julianne’s eyes started to water. He was completely ignoring her. Well, not her, but he was not hearing her at all.

“Julianne,” he prodded.

Before he could turn his head and see her eyes, she nodded and said, “Okay,” and then she turned around, her tears falling. Her nose was clogging and she so wanted to sniff but that would give her away. She couldn’t let him see her that way. She walked to the bed and saw the basket under it that she had not noticed before.

With a weak hand, she pulled it out and saw some clothes. They were big and were definitely made for men, but they would do. They were dry and clean after all. She tried to change without making a sound, using the big cloth she had around her for cover.

 *****

Of course he knew she was trying to say something. He just didn’t want to hear whatever it was yet. He was still shaking inside from the fear that overwhelmed him earlier when he was thinking the worst that could have happened to her.

If she was going to say sorry, he would gladly say it was nothing. Damn, he would even jump with joy.

But, if she was going to say something else like ‘I want to go home, so please let me go,’ he didn’t know if he could handle that. He was still trying to figure out what to say to both situations if he would finally give her the chance to talk.

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