"You inherited the same qualities. Much more so than Ari," Elena mused.
Far from being reassuring, her mother's words cemented the fear in Zoe's heart. But there was no time like the present to confront it.
"It's that intensity that frightens me," she admitted. "When I was younger, I thought if I put all those feelings into my career, I could handle it. I realize now the Secret Service and all my training with the Bureau was a way for me to try and control the intense part of myself."
"The Greek part of you? We're hot-blooded people. We fight strongly and we love strongly. It's not something to fear but to embrace." Her mother smoothed Zoe's hair with her hand again.
Zoe nodded, understanding her mother's words in a soul-deep way she couldn't have before. Not when she was young and searching for adventure, and not when she'd first met Ryan. Only after. "I feel that kind of intense emotion with Ryan in a way I never did for another man," she admitted to her mother.
"I understand. It was the same for me and your papa."
Zoe sat up. She glanced over at the wedding photograph of her parents on the mantel and smiled. "You married young. I'm already thirty."
"Way past time to settle down."
"Way past time to get set in my ways," Zoe countered. "What do I know about sharing my life?"
Another wave of her mother's kimono-sheathed arm followed. "You'll learn together. Zoe, Zoe, even when we joked about you being afraid to commit to anyone or anything, I never thought I raised you to be a coward."
"Well then surprise, surprise." Because Zoe was a coward.
She was damn scared of discovering she couldn't have it all, that she couldn't be herself and keep Ryan happy, too. She was afraid of having to answer to him and failing, afraid of disappointing him.
Elena pinned Zoe with her contemplative gaze. "So you're afraid even to try. You're unwilling to compromise so that you and Ryan can be together."
Ryan had accused her of something very similar, Zoe recalled.
Her mother made a tsk-tsking sound that Zoe knew signaled her disappointment in her. "And is Ryan a coward, too? He must be since he let you leave without fighting for you. Another one unwilling to change or compromise."
Zoe rose from the couch, her anger flowing on Ryan's behalf. "I'm willing to admit my flaws, but don't paint Ryan with the same brush."
"What is this brush?" Elena asked, confused by the English expression.
"I mean don't just assume that Ryan is like me. He's come a long way since the first time he set foot in our backyard."
Her mother leaned forward, her chin in her hands. "Really? How so?" she asked as if she doubted Zoe's claim.
Zoe tossed her hands in the air. "After all Sam and I told you about our trip to Boston, I can't believe you need to ask. He understands Sam. He will raise her to be independent without crushing her spirit. He's mellowed and he looks for reasons before just applying ridiculous rules or codes of behavior."
"So what makes you think he's incapable of doing the same for you?" Elena asked, her mother's words doing the near impossible, silencing Zoe, and also forcing her to think.
Ryan had changed since they'd met. He'd found a balance between his Boston upbringing and Sam's cherished independence.
He'd told Zoe he loved her and was willing to wait for her.
And he'd gotten nothing back in return, she realized. Not a single, solitary thing. Not words of love, not promises of tomorrow or even a future. Nothing.
"Zoe?" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You're quiet."
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
"What an idiot I've been."
"How so?" her mother asked.
Zoe sighed. "Ryan's a good man. A decent man." A sexy man who loved her and accepted her, stubborn flaws and all.
And she'd walked away.
Her pulse raced. Nausea threatened as reality struck, hard and unyielding. She'd been so stubborn, so unwilling to believe in love, or in Ryan. Or even in herself. She placed a trembling hand over her churning stomach. Why hadn't his word been enough?
Hadn't he proven himself since he met her? He'd loosened up and learned to accept things new and different. Like the Costases and their pet pig, she thought wryly. And he'd promised her that he'd never make her change. Yet she'd still felt the need to run.
Why?
Fear had motivated her, just like Ryan had said.
And now? What had changed in her mind? She bit down on her lower lip. She was still scared of the emotions and the intensity they shared. Only now she saw things clearly and she was much more afraid of losing him than she was of giving them a try.
Ryan had already found his balance in life. It was time she showed him she had done the same. And she knew exactly what she had to do in order to prove herself to him. She only hoped it wasn't too late or else she was doomed to spend the future alone. Because an intensity and love like she shared with Ryan only came around once in a lifetime.
* * *
RYAN SAT IN HIS OFFICE, legal pad in front of him, case files surrounding him, but his concentration wasn't on work. Instead all he could focus on was Zoe. Ryan had every intention of telling her family about his decision to let them raise Sam, and he planned to tell them in person. He didn't want to delay the revelation because he understood how much pain and misery was involved in preparing to say goodbye.
But his plans to leave immediately had been cut short when one of his partners had been rushed to the hospital with appendicitis. Ryan had stepped in to take over the workload. As a result, the soonest he could leave for New Jersey would be this coming weekend.
Not that it mattered. Whether he left for Jersey late Friday night or early Saturday morning, beach traffic would prolong his commute. And no matter when he made the trip, he'd still have hours alone in the car to think about all the things he could and should say to Zoe. Not that any of them would make a damn bit of difference. Apparently in his world, I love you was destined to be a one-way street.
He glanced down at the empty pad when the buzzer on his intercom rang. Ryan ignored it, hoping Nadine would take the hint and assume he was busy. Unfortunately she was persistent and suddenly the buzzer turned into knocking on his office door.
"Come on in," he called, annoyed with the interruption.
Steeling himself to deal with the intruder when he wanted nothing more than to be alone, he glanced up. Zoe was the last person he expected to see standing in the doorway. But there she was. Wearing her trademark miniskirt and not much of a top that fell seductively off one shoulder, she looked tanned and as fresh as the summer morning.