The Heart of a Hero by Barbara Wallace Read Free Book Online

transmitter. “No need to check in daily.”
    “You work too hard, babe.”
    Paul. Zoe nearly dropped the phone. She hadn’t heard his voice in months. Not since she walked out. Hearing it now made her stomach drop.
    Balling her free hand into a fist, she took a deep breath, willing her insides to still. “What do you want?” she managed to ask.
    “Since when does a guy need an excuse to call his wife?”
    “Ex-wife.” Now she was over the shock, clarity was setting in. Thankfully. “I distinctly remember sending you papers. We’re no longer married.”
    “I’ll always think of us as married in my heart.”
    Didn’t he mean wallet? “So much so you haven’t tried to contact me since February.”
    “I wanted to give you your space.”
    “My space.” He’d certainly given her that, and then some.
    “Because I knew I screwed up.” There was a pause. She imagined him chewing his thumb; he always didwhen nervous or deep in thought. “Truth is, I wasn’t sure you’d talk to me.”
    “What makes you think I’m willing to talk with you now?”
    He chuckled. “You answered the phone, didn’t you?”
    “Because I thought you were Caroline. I can still hang up, and I will, unless you tell me why you’re calling.”
    “I miss you.”
    “I’ve been gone for months, Paul.” He’d been gone even longer, but she doubted he’d understand what she meant.
    Meanwhile, he ignored her comment. “I’m playing Savannah this weekend. Remember last year? The tenth hole? The water hazard?”
    “I remember.” She also remembered him sweet-talking her into ponying up for lessons with Lars Anderson afterward.
    “We were good together, Zo.”
    “Were we?”
    “Of course, we were. We were Team Brodsky.”
    Team Brodsky. She’d coined the silly moniker the night she proposed. At the time, Paul had been on the brink of making the tour. “Make me your partner,” she’d said. “We can do great things together. Team Brodsky, all the way to number one.” Her backing, his talent. That’d been the plan anyway.
    “Ancient history,” she said.
    “Doesn’t have to be.” His voice dropped a notch, turning all honeyed and soft.
    Once upon a time, that tone of voice would have sent her heart fluttering. Today it brought nothing but regret and bitterness.
    “You were—you are—my lucky charm, babe. Always have been.”
    Not to mention his bankroll. She read the sports pages. He’d missed the cut in the last tournament. His short game was slipping without the expensive coach she’d been paying for.
    On the other end of the line, there was another pause. More thumb-biting, she presumed. Finally he spoke again, clearly taking her silence as a willingness to listen. “What do you say? Can we at least talk? That’s all I’m asking for. A chance to see you. I need you, Zoe.”
    And there it was, her Achilles’ heel. Need. Forget sob stories and challenges. Never had there been a more powerful four-letter word, at least for her, and Paul knew it. Already she could feel the guilt building in her chest. Squeezing the phone, her nails bending against the plastic casing, she fought the emotion’s grip. “I have to go.”
    “One meeting, Zoe. One.”
    “Goodbye, Paul.”
    She hung up before he could muster another argument, then quickly blocked his number from herphone before he could call again. And he would call again. Paul never liked rejection.
    Dammit! She tossed the phone to the other end of the sofa, where it fell into the cushions. Why’d she have to answer the phone in the first place? Why didn’t she take the time to look at the call screen?
    It wasn’t that she loved Paul. On the contrary, she was angry she had let herself be blinded by infatuation for as long as she did. Zoe Hamilton, Advice Columnist and Patsy. Tell her you need her, and you can walk all over her. Well, no more. Just like Team Brodsky, her days of becoming personally involved were history.
    All of a sudden, her warm, cozy living room