Chapter 12
“I start next month,” she said.
“Where?”
“County trauma center.”
Gabriel nodded.
“They’re lucky.”
“Don’t make me regret saving you.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
They sat quietly.
People often asked Nora why she continued visiting him after he no longer needed private nursing care.
She never knew how to answer.
Maybe because he had seen her at the ugliest point in both their lives.
Maybe because she had watched him lose an empire and become more peaceful with every piece that disappeared.
Maybe because healing rarely happened in a straight line, and she had come to respect people who kept walking while limping.
Gabriel tapped the cane against the ground.
“Nora.”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“That sentence has never led anywhere good with you.”
He smiled.
“I’m going away.”
She knew.
The sentencing hearing had been that morning.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Nora looked at him.
He continued before she could speak.
“My lawyers can appeal parts of it.”
“But?”
“I told them not to.”
She studied his face.
“Why?”
“Because I spent half my life believing consequences were for people without enough money.”
A breeze moved through the trees.
“I want that belief to die.”
Nora looked down at her hands.
“You’ll miss your rehabilitation schedule.”
“I’ve already arranged therapy.”
“Of course you have.”
“And I’ll come out walking.”
“You’d better.”
Gabriel became quiet.
Then, carefully, he reached into his jacket.
He removed an envelope.
Nora groaned.
“If that’s money—”
“It isn’t.”
“Property?”
“No.”
“A car?”
“Nora.”
“What?”
“Open it.”
She did.
Inside was a photograph.
Nora stared at it.
The picture had been taken by Luca during Gabriel’s third week of rehabilitation.
Gabriel stood between parallel bars, sweating, furious, barely upright.
Nora stood in front of him.
Her body was positioned to catch him.
Her hands were raised.
Her expression was fierce.
On the back, Gabriel had written one sentence.
You were the first person who never stepped backward when I fell toward you.
Nora swallowed.
“That’s manipulative.”
“Probably.”
“Annoyingly effective.”
“I hoped so.”
She turned the photograph over again.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Remember me.”
Nora looked at him.
“I think the scar took care of that.”
He smiled.
“No. Remember this version.”
She understood.
Not the man with the empire.
Not the feared name.
Not the patient delirious in silk sheets.
The man learning to stand.
Nora slid the photograph back into the envelope.
“I can do that.”
Gabriel nodded.
Then she added, “But you should know something.”
“What?”
“I’m not waiting three years for you.”
He blinked.
Nora burst out laughing.
The sound carried across the terrace.
Gabriel stared at her.
“You thought this was romantic?”
“I was attempting something.”
“You committed crimes more gracefully.”
He laughed too.
Then the laughter faded.
Nora touched his hand.
“This isn’t a fairy tale, Gabriel.”
“I know.”
“You don’t go away and come back magically clean.”
“I know.”
“I don’t become the woman who fixes you.”
“I know.”
“And whatever happens after three years happens because of who we are then. Not because I saved your life one night.”
Gabriel looked down at their hands.
Then nodded.
“That sounds fair.”
May you like
“It’s the best I can offer.”
“For the first time in my life,” he said, “fair sounds generous.”
