Page 71 of Her Unending Horizon

“He showed up to Down Home for takeout,” she said. “Ruby saw his uniform, they started talking calls, and then he mentioned he’s been riding the box with Zarek. Chloe…” Her voice dropped half an octave. “He said Zarek came into work with his chin swollen and half his jaw turning purple.”

My stomach dropped.

“Maybe he slipped,” I tried weakly. “We do live in a world where gravity exists⁠—”

“Nice try,” she cut in. “Fletcher asked him about it, and he did that thing where he laughs and changes the subject. So, Fletcher went to Michael. And guess what Michael said?”

I already knew I wasn’t going to like it. “What?”

“That Cappy benched Zarek from fighting at the gym,” she said. “Two weeks ago. Told him he was done. So, Fletcher and Michael would really like to know where in the hell Zarek is getting punched in the face now. And so would I. Do you know anything?”

The words hit in layers.

Benched.

Fighting somewhere else.

Michael worried. Fletcher worried. Zoe furious.

And underneath all of that, the part that hurt the most.

Zarek had promised me no more fights.

My fingers tightened around the pencil until the wood creaked. “No,” I said. “I don’t… Zarek told me he wasn’t going back to the gym, now you’re telling me it’s even worse, that it’s escalated.”

“So, he didn’t tell you anything this week?” Zoe demanded. “No mysterious ‘gotta go, sparring’ texts? No limping? No ‘hey, I’m feeding the part of my soul that wants to get concussed’ monologues?”

Images flashed—Zarek at the barbecue, jaw still a little off-color, eyes clearer than they’d been in months, moving through the yard like a man who’d found air again. The way he’d looked at me. The way he’d told Evie congratulations like he meant it.

He’d seemed…better.

Less brittle around the edges. Less like a man made of straw and gasoline, waiting for a spark. But I’d called him twice, and he’d just texted me back that he was working double shifts. He didn’t have time to talk. So how in the hell would I know what he was doing?

“Chloe?” Zoe pushed. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” I said, voice thin. “I’m here.”

Silence stretched for a heartbeat, then two.

“I’m not trying to pile on,” Zoe said, softer now. “I just…they’re worried. I’m worried. You’re usually my early warning system with him. If he’s doing something this stupid and you didn’t know…” She trailed off.

“Then I’m not his early warning system anymore,” I finished for her. “Welcome to the consequences of me moving out.”

Ouch. That landed harder than I meant it to. It felt like I’d just hit my finger with a hammer, and it hurt.

Fear crawled up my throat, sharp and sour. “When did Fletcher see him?” I asked. “Today?”

“Yesterday,” Zoe said. “So, whatever he did, it was recent.”

I pressed the heel of my hand to my sternum like I could tamp down the ache. I wanted to call Zarek. Yell at him. Demand answers. I wanted to grab my keys, drive straight to Jasper Creek, and beat on the front door until he opened it and I could catalog every bruise with my own eyes.

But that wasn’t my job anymore. Or was it? God, I fucking hated adult boundaries and shit. At what point was I saving a life and not just being co-dependent? I’d ask my therapist or ChatGPT, but they didn’t know my man the way I did.

“Say something,” Zoe said quietly. “You’re freaking me out with the silence.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “I want to drive over there and shake him. But I also… I can’t keep being the only one yanking him back from the edge. That’s not a sustainable process.”

“I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know.”