Page 55 of Fighting For You

I told him about Knox. That he was the firefighter who pulled me out of the fire, and that we kept running into each other after that, that he'd helped me find my car and taken me to Oatman for our first date. I told him Knox was quiet and steady and paid attention to things most people didn't notice.

Ian listened with his chin in his hand, grinning the entire time.

"Is he good to you?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "He's really good to me."

"Good. Because if he's not, I know where the fire station is."

"Ian."

"I'm just saying."

He reached for his water glass, and I saw it. A cut across the back of his right hand, scabbed over but still fresh. Two inches long, jagged at the edges.

"What happened to your hand?"

He glanced down at it like he'd forgotten it was there. "Caught it on a fender at the shop. It happens."

"Did you clean it?"

"Yes, Nora. I cleaned it."

He pulled his hand back and picked up his fork. The conversation moved on, but I looked at that cut. It didn't look like a fender.

Ian had never lied to me. Not about anything that mattered. If he said it happened at the shop, then it happened at the shop, and I was the ER nurse who saw lacerations all day and couldn't stop diagnosing the people she loved.

I let it go.

"I wanted to talk to you about the lot," I said.

Ian looked up. "What about it?"

"Half of that property is yours, so I wanted to make sure we're on the same page about what we do with it."

He nodded slowly. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we sell it. Use the money to start fresh somewhere that isn't tied to everything that happened there."

Ian was quiet. Then he said, "I trust your judgment, Nora. Whatever you think is best, I'm good with it."

"Are you sure? It's your decision too."

"I'm sure. You've always known what's best for us."

The tension I'd been holding for weeks let go. I'd been carrying that conversation for weeks, turning it over, trying to figure out how to bring it up without making it feel like I was erasing our childhood. But Ian didn't look hurt. He looked like he'd already made his peace with it.

"Okay." I smiled. "So I've actually been looking at apartments. I found a few two-bedrooms not too far from school. One of them is on the bus line, which would make your commute easy, and the rent is manageable."

Ian set his fork down.

"Nora."

"There's one on Decatur with a second bedroom that gets morning light. I thought it would be perfect for you."

"Nora."

"Yeah?"