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“I had a doctor come and look at you. They said that you’re in good health—probably in some shock, but overall okay. You and the baby.”
Something softens in his voice at the last word, and a lump rises in my throat. “You have an in-house doctoranda private tattoo artist? What else do you have?” I laugh softly, trying to lighten the moment, but there’s no humor on Dante’s face. He’s still looking at me as if he’s afraid that I’m going to disappear, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing over my cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly. “You just ran. Why didn’t you tell me before you just decided to go?”
I swallow hard, pulling away from his touch. I sink down onto the couch, looking up at him. “Because this life isn’t right for me,” I whisper. It’s the honest answer, and that’s all I can think of to give him now. “I can’t be a mafia wife, and I don’t want my child raised in this life, with this violence and the expectations—”
Dante’s gaze narrows, just a little. “It’sourchild, Emma. You can’t just unilaterally make decisions without me—”
“A child neither of us planned for! This was an accident, Dante. So, I handled it as I saw fit.Nothingabout this life would be good for a child. The rules, the security, and the danger. The expectations, the way women are treated, and everything you do that’s illegal without batting an eye. I couldn’t keep being myself if I was with you—”
“I’d never ask you to be anything else.” Dante looks at me, his gaze pleading, as if he’s willing me to believe him. “I wantyou, Emma, and we could figure it out—”
“No, we can’t.” The words come out before I can stop them, the fear crowding in again and making me want to run. I think of what I saw, of how Dante killed Altiere, of howeasyit was, and I stand up abruptly. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this. After what happened—I just need to get away from all of it.”
I start to push past Dante, headed for the door, and he grabs my hand. I wrench it away as another bolt of fear darts down my spine, wrapping my arms around myself. “Are you going to stop me? Are you going to keep me here, just like—”
Dante’s eyes go wide and he steps back, shaking his head. “No,” he says finally, and there’s defeat in his voice. “You can do whatever you want, Emma. I’m not trying to stop you or change you or cage you in. I don’t want any of those things.” He takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. “But Idowant to be a part of our child’s life.”
“It’s too dangerous—”
“I’ll protect you, no matter what.” He takes a step forward, as if he wants to reach for me, and then thinks better of it.
“And how are you going to do that? How can you make that promise?” I wrap my arms tighter around my middle, feeling smaller and more afraid than ever, more unsure. No matter which way I turn, I can’t see what the right answer is.
“Look at what I just did! I got you out of there. I would never have let him get away with it, no matter what I had to do.” Dante’s jaw clenches, his gaze fixed on mine. “I would tear the world apart for you, Emma.”
The sincerity in his words rips at my heart. But I shake my head, taking another step back.
“I don’t want that,” I say quietly, backing towards the door. “I want a safe, whole world for my child. Forourchild. And you can’t give us that.”
The moment the words come out of my mouth, I think that I’ve never seen anyone look so broken. Pain wreaths across Dante’s face, and his mouth opens, but for a moment, nothing comes out.
“There’s a car outside,” he says finally. “It will take you home.”
Shit. I realize, in a rush, that I’m not sure if I have a home to go back to. I told the realtor to handle the closing—for all I know, the papers are all signed except for my signature. My worry must show on my face, because Dante gives me a slow, sad smile.
“The condo is still yours,” he says quietly. “I’m the one who put in an offer. I meant to buy it and give it back to you, when I finally found you—or you came home. But since the papers were never finished, I’ll just retract it. It’s all still there, just the way you left it.”
Tears spring to my eyes, hot and overflowing, before I can stop them. “Dante—”
“Don’t say anything else.” His voice sounds choked. “If you do, I don’t know how I’m going to let you leave.”
I want to go to him, to throw my arms around him, to tell him how grateful I am. But I know what he means.
If I touch him, I don’t know how I’m going to leave, either.
So instead, I turn and go, before I lose my nerve.
The tears spill over on the drive back to my home. I sit in the back of Dante’s town car, wiping at them, but they won’t stop. I’m exhausted and overwhelmed and entirely uncertain of what I’m supposed to do, and with every mile, I wonder yet again if I’ve made the right choice.
If I should stop running from Dante, and take a chance.
The condo is, as he promised, exactly as I left it. I walk inside, calling Abby the moment I do. I get her voicemail, and I leave a quick message, letting her know that I’m safe. “I’ll figure out my things and the car as soon as I can, but I’m going to be back in LA for a while. I’ll explain everything when we talk. Call me and let me know that you’re okay, too.”
And then, as I walk into the kitchen, I see an envelope on the counter.
I know before I even pick it up that it’s something from Dante. At first, I think it’s going to be the deed to the condo, but when I slide the paper out, I see that it’s a letter.
