Big-shot telemarketing job? Ha. I madeway moremoney as Ruby. Truth be told, I’m actively looking for another job I can work part-time to make up for the lost pay. Otherwise, I’m going to end up back in the same situation. I mean, because of Dom, I don’t have the bank breathing down my neck, but I’m determined to pay him back in full. Even if I’m still writing him checks on my deathbed.
I click out of the text convo, but my stupid finger accidentally hits the one chat box I’ve been trying to avoid for the past nine days.
Dom:I don’t know if you’re reading my messages, but I want you to know that I am sorry if I crossed a line, but also, I don’t regret it, Hannah. I wanted to give you the freedom I know you deserve.
It’s the last message he sent me. It came in at some point this morning, and my chest aches over his words. But I do the same thing I always do and click out of the chat box before I find myself too tempted to respond.
Doesn’t mean it’s easy, but it’s the only thing my heart can handle right now.
41
Dominic
Monday, June 24
1:30 p.m.
“Dom, sweetheart, would you like some soup?” Lovie asks from the kitchen, and I glance over my shoulder to offer a smile in her direction.
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
I turn my attention back to the current episode ofNCISthat’s playing on the television. Gibbs is referring to one of his infamous rules. Rule number 69, in fact.Never trust a woman who doesn’t trust her man.
The rule hits a little too close to home, if I’m being honest, but not in the way Gibbs means it.
In the way that makes me wonder if I’m solely responsible for Hannah refusing to talk to me. Did I bulldoze her? Did I push her too far?
Even though my whole intention for stepping in and helping her financially was well meaning, did I insert myself into something I shouldn’t have?
I don’t fucking know. Truthfully. And every time I think about our last conversation, the one that occurred damn near the same exact spotthat Lovie is currently standing while she ladles her homemade potato soup into three bowls, I only find myself more confused.
Sherry bursts into laughter at something Gibbs says on the screen, and I silently wonder if the fact that I’m sitting here, on the sofa with Hannah’s mom, is evidence of my transgressions.
In my defense, I texted Lovie to make sure that Hannah was at work, even though I had a feeling she was. I’ve become well versed in her Call Me Anytime schedule, and she hasn’t had the foresight to un-share her phone’s location with me—thank God. But I did double-check for confirmation.
And even though Shane wanted me to grab lunch with him at his favorite sub shop on the West End of Nashville, I couldn’t shake the need to stop here for lunch to see how Sherry was doing.
It’s been more than two weeks since I’ve seen her, and I guess, in a weird way, spending time with her and Lovie is the closest I can get to spending time with Hannah. Because fuck, I miss Hannah. I miss her so much it makes the simple act of breathing feel like I’m doing it with a gun to my head.
“Lunch is served!” Lovie announces, and Sherry doesn’t hesitate to hop off the couch, her body as spritely as it’s been since the first day I met her, and head over to the big farmhouse-style dining table in the center of the room.
She sits down in her favorite chair at the head of the table and dives right into the bowl of potato soup.
Lovie and I are a little slower in getting to the table, but we start eating soon after that.
“Tony, what’s our priority case this week?” Sherry asks around a mouthful of bread.
“Well ...” I pause, trying to recount the last episode I watched ofNCISjust last night. It doesn’t take long for me to recall enough details from episode 17 in season 7. Pretty sure it’s called “Double Identity.” “We’ve got that shooting of a marine officer in Washington, DC.”
“Oh yeah.” Sherry nods. “The one that happened in Rock Creek Park.”
“Bingo,” I say, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Lovie. “After some digging, we’ve found that he was a marine lieutenant who went missing in Afghanistan six years ago. And after even more digging, we found that he has not just one wife, but two.”
“He created a whole second life?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Let me guess, Tony,” Sherry says with a big smile. “You’re subscribing to your famous theory.”
