Chapter 7 - LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH WITHOUT CHANGE
Months had passed since the night he pulled me from the water.
People assumed we were together.
We weren’t.
We had eaten dinner eleven times.
Argued during eight of them.
Kissed once.
It happened outside my father’s machine shop after Gideon returned the deed to me.
The kiss lasted perhaps ten seconds.
It caused three weeks of trouble inside my head.
I wanted him.
That was obvious.
I also knew what he was.
Gideon never lied about that.
His world ran on fear, favors, old debts, and rules nobody wrote down.
There were things he had done that he refused to describe.
Things I probably did not want described.
He could be gentle with me and still be dangerous to somebody else.
Love does not erase arithmetic.
“You know what Graham said before sentencing?” I asked.
“No.”
“That he finally understands what he lost.”
Gideon looked toward the water.
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
“But understanding the value of something after you destroy it doesn’t mean you deserve another one.”
Gideon nodded.
We reached the old machine shop.
I had reopened it three months earlier.
Not as a machine shop.
Half the building now housed a small emergency assistance center for nurses, dockworkers, restaurant staff, and other people trying to leave financially abusive relationships.
Temporary housing.
Legal consultations.
Child-care grants.
No marble lobby.
No donors’ names ten feet high on the wall.
Just help.
The other half remained almost exactly as Dad left it.
His tools.
His workbench.
His ridiculous coffee machine.
Some losses I had learned to transform.
Others I kept.
Gideon stopped outside the door.
“You did something good with it.”
“We did.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You did.”
He had quietly donated money through three different companies.
I discovered it and threatened to return every dollar.
We compromised.
His name appeared nowhere.
He hated that.
Which was precisely why I insisted.
I looked at him.
“What happens now?”
He knew what I meant.
“I’m selling the northern terminals.”
“That’s business.”
“Yes.”
“What about everything else?”
His jaw tightened.
“Maren.”
“You want me.”
“Yes.”
The directness still affected me.
“Then you know the price.”
“I know.”
“I won’t ask you what you did before we met.”
His eyes remained on mine.
“But I will not build a life inside a world where men disappear because you’re angry.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Everything wrong becomes complicated when the person benefiting from it explains long enough.”
He almost smiled.
“Your father said something similar.”
“You deserved each other.”
“He once hit me with a wrench.”
“What did you do?”
“Raised his rent.”
I stared at him.
Then laughed.
He smiled.
God, I loved that smile.
That was the problem.
Gideon stepped closer.
“If I leave that world, there are consequences.”
“I know.”
“People who depend on me.”
“Then protect them.”
“Enemies.”
“Deal with them legally.”
He gave me a look.
“I heard how ridiculous that sounded.”
“Good.”
“Maren.”
He touched my cheek.
“I don’t know if I can become the man you’re asking for.”
My throat tightened.
“I’m not asking you to become anything.”
His hand fell.
“That is not what this feels like.”
“No. I’m telling you who I can live beside.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
But love that requires you to abandon your moral boundary is not love.
It is another kind of drowning.
“I wish that were enough,” he said.
“So do I.”
We stood there while gulls cried over the harbor.
Finally, Gideon leaned down and kissed my forehead.
Not my mouth.
That almost broke me.
Then he turned away.
“Gideon.”
He stopped.
“If someday you figure it out…”
He looked back.
I forced myself to smile.
“Come without the black cars.”
His eyes softened.
“And the bodyguards?”
“Especially the bodyguards.”
“That seems irresponsible.”
“Take the risk.”
May you like
He laughed quietly.
Then he walked away.
