Shadows of The Heart

Chapter 17

Lyra's heart went out to the bunny as she gently cradled it. "Shh..." she whispered, her touch soothing the frightened creature. The bunny, sensing her compassion, nuzzled into her. "Do you belong to someone, baby?" she murmured, her voice concerned as she checked for name tags or clues. But there was nothing.

She sighed and realized she might have to keep the little creature. "Looks like you're staying with me," she said, smiling gently. She carefully examined under its ears, searching for signs of infection or mites. A quick search on her phone told her that Angora rabbits needed their fur brushed regularly. The state of the bunny's matted fur made her wonder how long it had been wandering outside alone.

Lyra attempted to untangle the mess, but it was hopeless. "I'm sorry, baby, but I'll have to trim this pretty fur," she said, her voice soothing as she reached for scissors. She sat in the garden, the warm sunlight filtering through the leaves. "I won't hurt you, I promise," she reassured the bunny, letting it sniff the scissors. The bunny seemed to understand, resting calmly in her lap as she gently began to snip away the matted fur.

"See? It's not so bad," she cooed, carefully separating the tangles. "You're doing so well. Just stay still, okay? I don't want these scissors to poke you." Sensing her sincerity, the bunny rested its tiny head against her chest. The simple act of trust made Lyra's eyes well up with tears.

She blinked them away, hugging the bunny a little tighter. "Thank you for trusting me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She continued working, carefully cutting away the matted fur and setting the soft tufts aside, planning to leave them for the birds to use in their nests.

"All done," she finally said, her voice filled with quiet satisfaction. Now much more comfortable, the bunny placed a tiny paw on her chest and promptly fell asleep. Lyra smiled at the sleeping creature, feeling a rare peace over her. "Well, look at you. Now I can't move," she chuckled softly, content to sit there, forgetting all her troubles for a moment.

She received a phone call from her team, and she was guiding them through starting a clinical trial. This project was both challenging and rewarding for her. The trial was a significant step in her career, and she was deeply invested in its success.

Unbeknownst to her, someone was watching. From the shadows of the living room, Orion stood, his gaze fixed on Lyra. He had come out to check on her but found himself captivated instead. How she cared for the fragile little creature with such tenderness and warmth stirred something inside him, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

The feeling was hard to ignore, like a fire consuming wood and burning down. Watching Lyra, he felt a stirring in his heart. It wasn't just admiration but a deep, unsettling awareness of her unique warmth. The affection, devotion, and care made him feel different.

Zara cared for people, too, but in a different manner. Lyra's care was like a breath of air after you were suffocated for a while. The feeling was inexplicable. For the first time, Orion saw Lyra in a new light—she wasn't just the woman he had married out of obligation; she was someone with a capacity for love and care. What was this? He couldn't tell.

The door behind him creaked open, and Zara stepped out, fresh from the shower. Her hair was still damp, hanging messily around her face, and the red puffiness of her eyes betrayed the fact that she had cried all night. Concern etched itself onto Orion's face as he approached her. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

"You don't know?" Zara's voice was laced with frustration and sadness she couldn't quite place. Was it the echoes of the moans she had heard last night, or was it the crushing realization that she had indeed lost the man she loved?

Orion sighed heavily, the weight of regret pressing down on him. "I thought it was you," he admitted, his voice tinged with guilt.

Zara's face flickered with a glimmer of something—hope, maybe—but it faded as quickly as it came. "I was drunk. She was drunk, too," he continued, his tone flat. He cursed inwardly, feeling the urge to punish himself but knowing it wouldn't change a thing.