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I draw in a long breath. “What do you want?”
“To see you again.”
“We can’t see each other again.”
“But why? We made love.”
I run a hand through my hair and stare at her. “From this moment on I’m Detective Rossi and you’re Amy Madden, and we didn’t make love, we had sex, just leave it at that.”
“But it can’t be. Life keeps bringing us together, again and again. That time in the shop and in the pub…”
I sigh. “Amy, it’s time to forget about what happened between us.”
“You just want me to forget about the best sex I’ve ever had? No way.”
My ego inflates like a hot air balloon. “You’re young, you don’t know what the best is yet.”
“I’ve had other lovers, but you... you’re special, Joe. I can’t forget. I don’t want to.”
“I’m a police officer and you’re a—”
“A nothing. I didn’t file a complaint. I didn’t even mention the fact that Derek has vanished…”
I give her a long hard look and wonder what she knows. “Let it go, Amy.”
“I don’t want to. We’re both adults, we’re both free.”
“You know I’m married.”
“Of course.” Her eyes snap to the gold ring on my finger.
“Look, Amy, I don’t want to make what happened between us cheap, or offend you by saying it was a mistake based on impulse...”
“But that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“Fuck.” I scrape my hands over my face and draw in a long breath. “Look. I didn’t think I’d see you again… not after that first time or…”
“Joe! Stop! I don’t care what brought us together, chance or fate. All I know is that what we had was amazing And I don’t want that to stop.”
“But it has to,” I say with finality, leaving no room for arguments. I think about Annie and how she rode me this morning, the smile she had, the hope she carried for us… I need to keep that hope alive, cultivate it, let it grow again. “Don’t come here again, we’re done.”
* * *
The cold metal chair leg presses against my leg as I push it forward under the fake wooden table gleaming in the light of the room. The library is surprisingly busy for a mid-day afternoon, and the room is full of murmurs and whispers. I pull the cap lower over my face and wait for the computer to register the temporary password the librarian just gave me. The screen comes to life, and I bring up the usual search, inputting the usual words.
The librarian shushes the crowd, effectively breaking her own rule of silence and forcing the room to fall into a cold stillness. Despite the conversation dying in people’s throats, the room is still alive with the sound of a printer spitting out paper and the constant clacking of keyboards. I glance behind me, ensuring no one is looking over my shoulders as I scour the daily news.
There has been nothing mentioned of Derek. I have checked most days since his attack, but Amy’s remark about him has uncertainty gnawing at me. I scour each newspaper, as I always do, paying more attention. And then I find it.
A small, barely there article mentioning the John Doe discovered in Regents Park. The muted request for any family members to come and identify him and the hospital in which he is staying.
Maybe that’s him. Fuck.
* * *
The flowers smell sweet, and they cover up the sweat and grime that have soaked into the upholstery of my car. Annie will appreciate them.
Tea is ready when I get home; roast and vegetables, and nuggets for the girls. They jump on me when I walk in the door, then proceed to shriek and run away as I turn into a tickle monster. I grab their small bodies and tickle them till they gasp for air and beg me to stop. As I look at their red smiling faces, I can’t imagine a world without them, a world where I let a mistake like Amy happen again, where I lose this. Annie chides us playfully, cutting through my thoughts, and for a short time, we are all happy and content, a normal and fully functioning family unit.
