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“The manager insisted.”
“You could have said no.”
I grin, pouring us each a glass of wine. “I wanted tonight to be special. Besides, after your heroic coding efforts, you deserve it.”
Her cheeks flush with pleasure at the compliment. “I’m just glad I could help. It felt good... using my skills for something immediate. And seeing it work out? It’s thrilling.”
I raise my glass. “To thrilling successes and many more to come.”
“To us,” she echoes, clinking her glass against mine.
As we eat, the conversation flows as easily as the wine. Emma shares stories from her college days, her passion for technology evident in every word. I find myself drawn in, hanging on her every word, marveling at the woman I’ve married.
“Adrian,” she says, setting down her fork, her expression turning thoughtful. “I never imagined happiness like this was possible. Not for me. And certainly not with someone like you.”
Her words warm me, and I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “Emma, you’ve brought light into my life I didn’t know was missing. With you, I’ve found a happiness I didn’t think I deserved.”
She squeezes my hand, her smile radiant. “I’m excited to learn more about you, too. Every story, every scar. I want to know everything.”
“Be careful what you wish for. My stories aren’t as light as yours.”
“But they’re part of you,” she insists. “And I love all of you. Even the parts you think are too dark.”
“Alright,” I begin, my voice rough with a hint of the emotions I usually keep locked away. “But remember, you asked for this.”
She nods, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“This one,” I say, tracing a line over my forearm, visible in the moonlight, “came from my first solo operation. I was young, too confident... It ended badly for me but worse for them.”
Emma’s hand tightens over mine, but her voice is steady. “What happened?”
“I went to this bookie for protection money. He hired a couple of Russians to put me off. I had to defend myself. It was kill or be killed.
“I made sure I wasn’t the one lying on the ground at the end of it. But not without this souvenir.” My attempt at humor feels hollow, even to my own ears.
She doesn’t flinch or pull away, instead squeezing my hand in a gesture of support. “How old were you?” she asks softly.
“Fourteen. I’d never killed a guy before but these assholes deserved it. The bookie thought they’d save him but I knew them. They’d take him for double if I was out of the picture.” I give her a cold smile. “He got the protection he paid for, that’s for sure.”
She starts stroking my arm across the table.
“This one,” I point to my shoulder, “was from an ambush. We were outnumbered, outgunned. I lost my best friend that day. I took a bullet, but I took out more of them. It was a dark time, Emma. I did things... things that remain with me.”
“What did you do?”
“Found the man who ordered the ambush. I tortured him for a long time. This is who I am, Emma. It’s only fair you know the truth.”
“You’re wrong.” Her eyes fill with tears, but her voice is unwavering. “I can’t pretend to understand what that was like for you. But I see the man you are now.
“The man who’s sitting with me, sharing his pain. That’s the man I love. That’s who you were, not who you are. You’re here with me, wanting a different life. That counts for something.”
Her words pierce through the armor I’ve built around myself, reaching the heart I thought was too hardened to feel such profound relief. “I don’t deserve you,” I say, overwhelmed by her compassion.
“You do,” she insists, pulling me into an embrace. “Everyone has a past. It’s where we go from here that matters.”
I feel a weight lifting off me. Sharing my past with Emma, seeing her acceptance and love, I start to believe in redemption, in the possibility of healing.
“Thank you, Emma,” I say, holding her close. “For seeing the man I want to be, not just the man I was.”
