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It’d been a few weeks since we’d had lunch together, but in that time, everything had changed. “I’m sorry about the excessive security measures,” I say leaning forward, making eye contact with her and trying to ignore the fact that two of the six other tables in the restaurant were filled with Dario’s men. Big guys, each with a visible gun on their hips. One had a badge. Two had driven us here and now stood watch outside the restaurant.
It was ridiculous. Major overkill. He took my insistence at a light security team and tossed it out the window. And why? We went to Mohave last night without a lick of security. Sat in a crowd at Becky’s within a team of armed guards. Managed to feel normal and lived through the night without a single instance of trouble. This wasn’t necessary.
“It’s a man thing,” Meredith explained. “He thinks he can protect you better than anyone else.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Whether it makes sense or not.” She wrapped her hands around her tea and inhaled the steam from it. “Just deal with it. Give him a couple of weeks, he’ll relax a little. The man’s been through a lot.”
“Yeah.” I thought of him dressing for the funeral. The solemn way he had knotted his tie. The long moment when he had studied his watch before putting it on.
“What?” She nudged me with her foot. “What does that look mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.” She took a sip of tea, then placed the cup down. “What’s bothering you?”
“It’s just…” I sighed. “I feel terrible even saying it. I—he—he misses her.” I looked up from the table. “Does it make me a terrible person to be jealous of that?”
“It makes you normal.” She pulled a pair of chopsticks from the wrapper and broke them apart. “Have you talked to him about it?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I couldn’t even—I mean, I don’t want him to feel like he needs to hide that. He should miss her. It just makes me feel insecure in our own relationship. One, because they have—had—such a long history, and so many memories and this hard bedrock of friendship. And two, because it’s my fault, or our relationship’s fault, that she’s gone. So I worry that every time he’s hurting over her death, or thinks of her—”
“That he’s going to begrudge you for it.” She put the pieces together too quickly, a reaction that validated my concerns.
I nodded, sitting back as they delivered our rolls. “Yeah.”
“I think…” She plucked an end piece from her roll and popped it in her mouth, leaving me hanging as she slowly chewed the enormous piece. By the time she swallowed, I was ready to stab her with a chopstick.
She cleared her throat. “I think you have to get over it. All of it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop comparing your relationship to his with Gwen. Stop beating yourself up and expecting him to blame you for something that he is just as guilty—NO.” She waved a sticky pair of chopsticks in the air between us. “Fuck that. Neither of you are to blame for it, but he’s a grown ass man. He knew the risks a hell of a lot more than you did. And if he wants to dwell on his own guilt, fine. But you need to pull your head out of the mess on this one. I know you beat yourself up every day in Louisiana over it, but it’s time to stop that shit.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the stern look she gave me, the effectiveness of it hampered slightly by the smear of wasabi along her bottom lip. “Okay,” I conceded.
“Don’t just blow smoke up my ass,” she warned.
“I’m not.” I lifted up my hands in surrender. “I promise.”
“Good.” She glanced around the restaurant and lifted one brow. “Now, are there any rules about dating the help? ‘Cause you know I’ve got a weakness for men in uniform.”
I smiled at her and wondered how, with everything going on, I would make it without her.
DARIO
Outside of the church, the lines circled the block. He walked down the street toward the church, nodding at the faces, each one somber, some avoiding his eyes. The rumors had already started. Whispers of his infidelity, of his mistress, the circumstances of Gwen’s death… they were too juicy to ignore, and they’d spread like a virus through the city.
How many of them were here out of love for her, and how many were here out of curiosity? It was impossible to know. He climbed the steps and nodded to the usher, who swung open the door with a respectful nod.
“Mr. Capece.”
“Thank you.” Dario stepped into the cool interior of the church, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. “How long do I have?”
