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I feel a bridge form between us, a connection fostered not just by shared grief but by the understanding that comes from it.
“How do you do it?” she asks, her curiosity mixed with a hint of admiration that feels undeserved. “How do you put up with all the pain?”
“Life,” I sigh, the weight of years and experiences she’s only beginning to navigate evident in my voice, “is a collection of moments, both good and bad. Losing people we love, it’s part of it, unfortunately. But so is finding new reasons to smile, new people to care for.
“I’ve learned to cherish the memories, to let them fuel me, not weigh me down. Your strength, your resilience—it’s there, even if you can’t feel it right now. Your mom would want you to be strong, right?”
Her body shakes with silent sobs, and I feel each one as if they were my own. It’s a moment that demands nothing but patience and presence. Solutions, plans, they all fade into the background, irrelevant to the immediate need to simply be there for her.
“Why? Why would someone be so cruel?” Her voice is muffled against my chest, the question not really seeking an answer but a way to voice her confusion, her search for sense in the senseless. She holds a note out toward me. “I’m guessing this is for you.”
I take it from her hand and read it out loud. “Told you, not all debts are paid in cash. Hide in the hotel like a coward, you forced my hand. You leave the city or I keep the fires coming. But I’m guessing if she means nothing to you, who gives a shit about a fire, right?”
I fold the note and pocket it. “I mean nothing to you?” she asks. “Is that true?”
I ignore the question. “I had your possessions collected while we were together last night. Thought he might do something like this. Here’s the address.” I hand her a business card. “You must stay with me until I’ve dealt with Garibaldi. Your life could be in danger.”
She shakes her head. “Are you insane? You gather up my things like some thief in the night. You stand there smiling at me while my house turns to ashes and you act like it’s no big deal? I ask if I mean nothing to you and you don’t answer? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Wailing and crying will not resolve this situation. You want to be safe. Come with me.”
“Get fucked. For all I know, you did this.”
“Talk sense. Why would I burn your house down?”
“You tell me. To force me to stay with you maybe? How did you even get here this quickly? Were you following me again?”
“You left without waking me. How? I sleep lightly. I should have heard you leave.”
“You were in a deep sleep. I felt sick. Wanted to get some air.”
“Came a long way to get some air.”
“For your information I was outside the hotel when I got a call from my neighbor to say my place had burned down. She’s in hospital with smoke inhalation, tried to rescue me from an empty house. I’m going to see her. I’ve got a cab on the way.” She looks at the business card. “Then I need to get my stuff and find a new place to live.”
Taking a deep breath, I decide it’s time to lay all my cards on the table, to involve her in the decisions that could shape our future.
“You don’t get it. Your life is in danger. The only way to keep you safe is for us to get married.”
Her eyes widen, a mix of surprise and confusion. “Marriage?” she echoes, disbelief coloring her tone.
“It’s a shield, a way to keep you safe under my name. It’s the quickest way I can think of to ensure no one dares to harm you again.” I rush to add, “It doesn’t have to be real. We can annul it as soon as the danger is over.”
She nods slowly, the wheels turning in her mind. “I need time to think,” she finally says as a cab pulls up, beeping its horn.
I watch her climb in, wondering if she noticed the tracker I slipped into her pocket when I took the note from her. I might trust her ability to look after herself but I don’t trust Garibaldi to leave her alone. I need to know where she is at all times, for her own safety.
I walk over to where Tony’s parked. “Book St. Mary’s church for a wedding. First thing tomorrow..”
SEVEN
Jess
Two hours later…
Emma’s eyes flicker with concern as I slide into the booth opposite her. “It’s like a ghost town in here, isn’t it?” she murmurs, echoing the unease that’s settled over me. “You ever seen Greg’s diner without anyone in it?”
“Yeah, it’s still early though,” I reply, trying to shake off the disquiet. “We’re never here this early, are we?”
