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She squeezed my hand tightly and it felt like she was squeezing my heart instead. My plans, everything I wanted to do, all seemed so perfect and attainable in my head, but what could I do when my heart made me want to stop all of this and just take them back home with me? Take Giovanna and her mother before I lost them.

Lost them? I wasn’t sure how that thought had come to mind. I could never lose my daughter, she was mine. But her mother...Was that what this feeling was? Was I losing her? How? We’d been doing everything as we planned.

Just like that, my thoughts were clear…and it did nothing ease my fears.

That’s what I was feeling. Fear and dread.

Kissing her once more, I got up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I heard the low hum of a blender as I walked back into the kitchen. She stood there making what I could only guess was breakfast for Giovanna. She didn’t acknowledge me. It was she like she was thousands of miles from me.

“I slept with Klarissa last night.” She froze for only a second before going on back to cutting the tomatoes in front of her.

“According to plan, I know.”

I moved to her side. “You’re hurt by it.”

“I’m not that fragile. I understand the mission.” She picked up the cutting board and tried to move, but I grabbed her arm. She glanced down at my hand and then to me, and I preferred the annoyance in her eyes to the emptiness.

“You mean you don’t want to be that fragile,” I explained, “and you want me to be just another mission, but I’m not. I am the father of your daughter, your future husband, someone you love. And while you were taking care of our daughter, I was in bed with another woman. You know she means nothing to me. You know that the moment I can, I will kill her, because the only woman I want or need is you. You know all of that, but you’re still hurt.”

“Are you done? The pan is getting hot.” She yanked her hand from my grip and walked away.

You’re losing her.

The thought angered me…hurt me. I turned off the stove, snatching the board from her hands and tossing it on to the counter.

“What are you doing–”

I kissed her, and it didn’t last a second before her fist collided with the side of my face. I had reached out to brace myself but because I was confused, or just an idiot, I ended up touching the damn stove.

“Ah!” I hissed, my jaw tight.

“What fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, grabbing my wrist and moving me over to the sink to run cold water over it.

“You! You are what’s wrong with me!” Couldn’t she see that? I thought it was obvious.

CALLIOPE – AGE 24

Rome, Italy

Friday, April 25th

I’d just finished dealing with one child and now I was dealing with him. When did this become my life?

“I’ll get my first aid—” He held onto my wrist with his good hand. This again? “Ethan, I’m warning you stop—”

“We have a plan,” he whispered, and I wish I didn’t, but I looked into his eyes. It was as if they were begging me. “We have a plan. It is logical, it is vicious, it is calculating…and it would be impossible for any other people to achieve because it requires us to not only sacrifice our own happiness, but to hurt ourselves and each other. We are prepared for the physical pain, but the emotional agony? We couldn’t have prepared no matter how hard we tried.”

“Ethan, I’m fine.”

“Do not lie to me. I can see it.” He squeezed my wrist. “I can see and feel you retreating.”

“I’m right here.” I tried to shake free of his grip. “What you’re seeing is just exhaustion—”

“Calliope!” he snapped again and shook his head. “I have seen you push yourself beyond human comprehension. Don’t make me feel as if I’m the crazy one for speaking up here.”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Ethan?”

“Your honesty, your love, and your loyalty.”

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