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One corner of Nick’s mouth—the side I can see—hitches upward. “I know.”
I take a small puff of the cigarette, then hand it back to him. The ashy taste is terrible, and the tobacco smells like burning newspaper. I cough. Nick hands me a piece of gum. I take it without looking over, feeling his eyes on my face as minty flavor fills my mouth.
It’s disconcerting, as is the realization that the moment is here. This—standing under the sky, sharing a cigarette—feels like a more appropriate setting than a crowded airport or fancy restaurant.
Right as I’m inhaling to speak, Nick finally does. “What are you doing here, Lyla?”
I bite my bottom lip. It’s a nervous response, not meant to be a seductive one.
“Long way to fly for a fuck,” he comments, flicking the cigarette to the ground and carelessly crushing it with his boot. I hope it’s not a metaphor for my heart.
“You’re one to talk,” I retort.
I wait for him to tell me that trip was just to see Leo and I was just a convenient pit stop along the way. But he doesn’t say that. Doesn’t say anything.
“Leo misses you,” I state. “I’m worried moving him so far away from you was a mistake. He didn’t know what it was like to have a dad before. Now, he does, and aside from Saturday mornings, he still feels like he doesn’t. That’s my fault, and Leo knows that. I’m worried he’ll resent me for it. And…I’m worried you will too.”
When I glance over, Nick’s jaw has tightened. His profile is harsh. He looks like a statue of an emperor. Or an avenging god. Still, he says nothing.
“But I’m not here because of Leo. I know he’ll be okay. I know we can figure it out. It just feels…it feels like I’ve been driving along for a while, not really noticing the scenery, just focused on what is ahead. Then, I was here, and I had to stop. I saw the scenery. And now, I’m trying to look ahead again and just keep driving, but I can’t stop noticing everything.”
I laugh a little, then shake my head.
“Does that—does that make any sense? I’m sleep-deprived. What I’m trying to say is that—”
Nick opens his mouth. “Lyla, I—”
“Wait. Let me finish.” I take a deep breath. Admitting this feels like preparing to rifle around in broken glass. There’s a good chance I’ll get cut. “I’m in love with you, Nick. I tried to avoid it and ignore it and pretend that it was just sex. Being back in Philly, I hoped it would fade. But it hasn’t. And honestly? I’m scared it’s never going to. Because nine years was plenty long enough to move on…and I never really did. I know it’s complicated with Leo and with everything that’s happened. And maybe you’re engaged now and I—”
“I never made an agreement with Popov.”
I’m relieved by the revelation, and I let it show with a long exhale. But it turns to apprehension when it becomes clear that’sallNick is planning to say in response.
“You never asked me to stay,” I whisper.
His jaw tics with irritation. “You made it very clear what the answer would be.”
“What if the answer has changed?”
He stares at me, eyes stormy and expression grave. “Lyla…nothing else will change. There will be more bloody shirts. If you’re telling me this, thinking it will be the push I need to walk away…it’s not.”
I nod and swallow. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m suddenly okay with it all. But so long as Leo isn’t involved, not unless he chooses to be once he’s eighteen, I can handle it.” I pull in a deep breath. “And I’d rather have you with all that comes along with it than not have you at all.”
His hand rises. His thumb traces my cheek, the touch featherlight. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’ve thought about it a lot the past few weeks. And…it’s not like my hands are clean either.”
“The situations aren’t comparable, Lyla.” Nick’s tone has changed from soft to sharp. “Don’t say you shooting a dangerous man in self-defense is the same as what I do.”
“It gave me a new perspective, Nick. That’s all. We all do what it takes to survive.”
“You don’t want this life.”
“I don’t,” I answer. “But I want you. I can hate what you do and still love you. You said you don’t have a choice, that you never had a choice, and I understand it better now. I know I do…and I want to choose you.”
“You never—”
“Younever, Nick. You never said good-bye. You never came back. You never said youloveme. You never acted like I meant anything to you at all, like you wanted us to last longer than was necessary.”
