Page 123 of Gave Proof Through the Night

She laughs, like I’ve said something ridiculous instead of the only thing I can think of that keeps her safe.

“I’m not going on the lam. I have to finish this.”

“Erica no!”

“But you should go. Get as far away from me as possible. Until, you know… this all blows over.”

“I won’t leave your side.”

“You can’t be around for this next part, Jeremiah. It’s too dangerous.”

“You’re Dangerous.”

“Fitting nickname. I think I’ll keep it.”

I want to argue. I want to pick her up off this bench and carry her onto a plane whether she likes it or not. Instead I ask the only question I have left.

“What are you going to do?”

“You’re not going to be able to find me for a while.” She says it steady. “It’s for the best. It’s for your own good. If somebody comes around asking about me, you have to pretend you don’t know me.”

“We were literally just photographed together on the red carpet.”

She pauses. “Oh yeah. I didn’t think that one through.”

I glance around the garden, checking for anyone close enough to overhear us.

“Come up to my room. We’ll talk there. Maybe I can talk you out of doing something stupid.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Your room?”

“Yeah. You can come up, put on my bathrobe, touch all my things. You can even steal my watch if you want to.”

“I thought you just said I stole your heart.”

“I didn’t say you stole my heart. I said you stole every piece of me.”

“Including your heart?”

I was trying not to be so blatantly trite about it. “Yeah. Including my heart.”

“You have to forget about me for a little while, Jeremiah. It’s safer that way. If someone asks, you can’t know where I am.”

She pulls me into a hug and holds on longer than she needs to. When she finally lets go, her eyes are wet.

“Go,” she says.

“Is there anything I can say? Anything that changes your mind?”

“No.”

There’s no winning this one tonight. I know it the way I know a puck isn’t going in the net or when we’re down three points in the last ten seconds of a game.

I kiss her once. Slowly… trying to leave something behind for her to think about. Then I make myself walk backward toward the door before I turn around completely.

Tomorrow. I’ll try again in the morning, when she’s slept on it, when I’ve had time to build a better argument than “please.” Tonight, I just go.

I don’t head back up to my room right away. I walk out of the hotel instead, down the street with no destination in mind, and somehow every single thing I pass reminds me of her.