“That’s no fair. Don’t look at me like that! We almost got caught!”
He shakes his head. “Did not. The door was locked. This is the new normal, Maeve. Turner doesn’t know we’re doing anything but sleeping in the bed. He’s six. Don’t freak out.”
He’s right, but still. I wash my hair as I stare at him through the glass. “I’m not freaked out. Just getting used to having people… around.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how hard it would be for you to adjust to people in your space.”
I shake my head. “I love it,” I say. “I love having you here and having Turner here while you were away was fantastic. It makes this house a home. I want you here.”
His grin is panty-melting. Sometimes he looks at me like he’s not sure I’m real. Like he’s the lucky one instead of me. I’ll never get used to it, but I can’t wait to try. “I have something for you. Hold on.” He disappears into the bedroom and comes back with a small jewelry box.
Finally, I think. What Aspen saw him buying. I never told him he was spotted, but after he gave me the lingerie, I knew there was something else coming. Or, I hoped there was.
“Nothing like a gift when our lives are on the line,” I joke, but I can tell by his face he doesn’t appreciate my funny. I wash the soap off my body and grab the towel he’s extending. “I’m joking, Lincoln.” I wrap myself up and step out to stand in front of him—mere inches apart, the heat from my body seeping into his tan skin, creating perspiration on his abs. I drag my fingers over his stomach because the sight is flawless.
“I just don’t want anything to cloud your life, Maeve. Nothing. This is going to be over soon.”
Isaac and Tommy have been on the task of figuring out Rufio’s schedule and which vehicles are his. It’s been easy now that we know what we’re dealing with. They think he’s getting braver now that he knows the cartel is pissed at him for going against their wishes and taking things to a level that could compromise others. He’s alone now, and that’s no match for SEALs. The downside is also that if he’s by himself, he’s not following orders, he’s doing whatever the hell he wants. I shiver and it’s not from the temperature change.
He opens the box and nestled in the green velvet is a lighthouse. Home, I think. Cape Cod. Where I buried Rexy. It signifies the place I gained and lost an entire life. Lincoln picks up the chain and lets it dangle on one finger. I can’t beat back the tears or the bittersweet emotions this gift brings up. He sees this and clears his throat. “The light spins at the top. There’re three diamonds up here.” With two big fingers, he tries to spin it and fails.
I choke back a sob with a chuckle. “Let me do it.” It’s delicate craftsmanship. The detail is stunning. The three diamonds act as the light and I spin it a few times. “Put it on me.”
Lincoln obliges, clasping it around my neck.
I walk to stand in front of the mirror. “It’s like it was made for me,” I admit. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.” He bought this so long ago, before I thought he even knew me—when I assumed we were only going to be fuck buddies and nothing more. This proves he has always regarded me as someone worth keeping. I hold it as I meet his eyes in the mirror.
He closes the distance between us, setting his hands on my shoulders. “A diamond for me. One for Turner,” he says, letting the next words hang.
“One for Rexy,” I finish, smiling through tears.
He nods, dropping a kiss on my neck. “Only the brightest love for you.” My chest burns as tears roll down my face. Lincoln knows this particular pain isn’t something he can fix, though. I can see it in his eyes. He’s also not afraid of it. “I’m going to make breakfast. Take your time.”
The bedroom door closes, and I’m left with all of the emotions I never let haunt me. I look at the little lighthouse once more and spin the top. I let the waves of Rexy’s memories crash around me. I take them in, and I embrace the searing pain. I say the words I’ve meant to say since the day I lost him.
“I forgive you, Rexy. I forgive you.” I let the anger go. It dissipates as I stare at myself in the mirror, a new woman. Another reincarnation of Maeve Ahern. This time I will get my happily ever after. I don’t hope. I know it’s mine. There’s only one more thing left to do. I grab my laptop out of my bag next to my dresser and I pull up my email. The last one. The beginning and the end of my grieving process.
Dearest Maeve,
I hate to start out with if you’re reading this then, but yeah, if you’re reading this then some fucking shit went down, and you’ve probably waited a while before you opened this letter. You’re undoubtedly still angry at me. At least if you’re angry, it means you still feel something for me. I hope I went down in glory, pistol firing from my hip while I hissed dirty cuss words the asshole infidel doesn’t even understand. If I didn’t, it’s up to you to come up with a good story every time someone asks about me. Make it really good, you hear me, kid?
You knew though. That this is how it would end, and this note was your destiny. It’s why you pushed me away for so long. I don’t blame you. I love you even more for it, actually. You knew me better than I
