“You have to admit that I am right, my love. There is no way forward for us.”
She swiped away her tears in a frustrated motion, hand shaking.
“I’m not giving up. I refuse.”
“Chiara—”
“No! I’m not giving up and, if you care for me at all, you won’t give up either. Just look at how much we’ve learned about your ghost-like status in the past week alone. There is hope.”
This woman. How I adored her.
“Promise me you’ll continue to fight for us, Jack.” Her enormous brown eyes locked with mine. “Please.”
As if I could deny her anything. “Of course, I’ll fight for us,Chiara mia. But if at any point, this”—I motioned at the space between us—“becomes a burden instead of a delight, I want you to walk away. I never want my situation to keep you from the life you deserve.”
She sniffled again. “Thank you, but I know what I want. That’s you, by the way.”
I smiled in spite of myself.
“Will you take a photo of yourself for me?” I waved my hand toward my tablet. “I want to remember you just like this.”
“Like this? A hot mess?” She swept her hands down her person.
Pretty much.
“Can’t we just video chat later?” she asked.
“That, too.”
I made my eyes as pleading as possible. I loved her like this, and I wanted to be able to pull up photos as a reminder. There were definitely perks to living in the twenty-first century.
She rolled her eyes and picked up my tablet, punching it to life. Grinning, I peeked over her shoulder, wanting to make sure she actually took the photo.
She shot me a glance. “I don’t know—”
My sharp inhalation cut her off.
The tablet opened into my email app, the last thing that had been open. I stared at the email on the screen, words jumping out at me.
. . . dare you contact my boyfriend like this . . .
. . . keep your wandering hands off my man . . .
. . . Jack will not be making any deals with you, so BACK OFF . . .
Chiara hastily pushed the Home button, closing the email app and giving a forced laugh. “Don’t mind that—”
Had I a body, my stomach would have sank, my heart would have sped up and my alarm would have spiked.
“Chiara.” My voice so very quiet. “What was that?” I pointed at the tablet screen.
“Uhm . . . uh . . .” She placed my tablet on the table before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s nothing, really. My phone was ruined during my little ocean escapade, and I wanted to contact my brothers to let them know I was okay.”
I nodded. That made sense.
“I know I’m not supposed to get into your email, but this seemed like it was an emergency exception kinda situation.”
“Yes. I agree with you. But I’m not sure that”—I pointed at the tablet—“had much to do with your brothers.”
