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We step over a rock, hitting the beach, and Rose takes the hem of her dress and inches it up to her thighs. She casts a smile my way, and it’s significantly more friendly than her half-baked attempts earlier. “Come,” she says, dancing off across the sand toward the shore, pivoting when she reaches the water, walking backward. “Just stand here and stare out at the burning horizon. It feels like you’re on the edge of the world.” She turns and looks at her feet, the water lapping at her ankles. Her attempts to pacify me are commendable. She didn’t ask for any of this, but it seems she knows her place, to an extent. I’ve known her only an hour or two, and I’ve fast learned that she keeps Danny Black on his toes. He adores her. She him. She accepts who she’s married to and backs down when she knows she needs to. I can’t help but think that James hopes I might learn a thing or two from Rose Black.

I pad down and join her, standing silently beside her, the sound of the ocean calming me.

“You were pregnant,” Rose eventually says, reaching for my hand and squeezing, keeping her gaze on the water.

“Only a few weeks,” I murmur quietly, an ache developing in my stomach. “Completely unplanned.” I look across to her, and she smiles mildly before returning her attention to the ocean.

“Because who could possibly want a baby with a cold-blooded killer?” she muses, her hair whipping in the breeze. She releases my hand and pulls her locks from her face, looking almost sad. “I would.” Her arms drop, her head tilting, as if waiting for the ocean to react to her statement.

“But you can’t,” I reply quietly, reading all the signs. And more than that, seeing nothing but devastation past the semi-strong façade.

She inhales and exhales slowly, gathering herself, and when she looks across to me, I see with perfect clarity the grief in her wildly blue eyes. This woman is fierce. Strong. How could she be anything else being with a man like Danny Black? She’s absolutely my kind of people. More so because of the fragility hidden behind the armor. The beauty. The stunning dress and impeccable, flawless makeup. “I had a baby when I was fifteen,” she says. “He was stolen from me. It was a pretty stressful birth and . . .” She swallows. “Well. That was that.”

I have no idea what to do. What to say. I’ve never felt compelled to comfort anyone. But my recent loss, how it’s unexpectedly made me feel, gives me a good sense of what Rose must live with daily. My chance of being a mother hasn’t been stolen completely. Rose’s has.

I move into her side and do what any compassionate woman would do. I put my arm around her, and she relaxes against me. It’s now, here, dipping our toes in the ocean on the edge of the world, that I realize I’m not completely broken. Not so cold and damaged that I can’t grasp another woman’s struggles. “I won’t try to dream up words in an attempt to make you feel better,” I say. “It would be horse shit. Life isn’t just a bitch, is she?”

“No, she isn’t.” Rose kicks the water. “She’s a scorned whore.”

I laugh, and it’s pure and real. “Is Danny enough?” I ask.

“More than.” Breaking away, she laces her fingers through mine, gripping hard, and tugs me farther into the water. “And James?” she throws back. “Is he?”

“Does it matter?” I ask, the bottom of my dress sticking to my thighs. I focus on the straight line of the horizon, breathing in the clean, salty air, filling my lungs. “He would never let me leave him anyway. So he has to be.”

“But is he?” Rose murmurs.

“Of course he is.” I turn a smirk onto her, and she throws one right back at me. “We bagged ourselves murderers. We’re living the fucking dream, Rose.”

She laughs, head tossed back, and I’m there with her. Because what the hell else can we do, except cry rivers of hopeless tears?

Tears that are fucking pointless in the world Rose and I have chosen to be a part of.

5

DANNY

* * *

“Sounds like we’re both in the doghouse.” I take a cigarette from my packet and light up, relaxing back in the chair as James watches the women head down to the beach. A solo singer is setting up behind us, and the sun is close to disappearing completely into the ocean. It’s been a surprisingly pleasant evening, domestic spats aside. Mine and Rose’s was resolved quickly in the ladies’. A failed attempt to slap me. A successful attempt to fuck her hard over the sink. I’m probably still dripping out of her now. I smile, exhaling.

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