I don’t want to assume she’s talking to this source or another source, so I quietly prepare something to calm our nerves and as I wait for the tea to steep, I respond to Peter’s text message.
Me: I miss you.
He’s asleep. I tell myself as the little bubble turns blue and the small letters sayingDeliveredpop up beneath it that Peter won’t respond to me because he hasn’t been involved in a murder andhe is in fact a regular, tired man in his forties who is getting much needed rest.
Peter: I miss you and I love you too.
Peter: I’ll be back tonight.
“What did he say?” Rana asks without looking up from her phone. This woman has a sixth sense that could rival a fortune teller’s.
“What did who say?”
“I know you were texting Peter. You always get a look on your face when you’re texting Peter.”
Again, I hate to feel exposed like this, but I’m too caught to deny it.
“He was just replying to something I said.”
“At four thirty?” Rana asks, slowly sipping on her tea.So she’s thinking the same thing.I don’t want to be the one to say it out loud and we’re both quiet for long enough that I realize Rana doesn’t want to say it out loud either.
“He said he’ll be back in Buffalo soon.”
Rana smiles. “Perfect. I can let you know if anything comes up with Inessa’s missing person’s report.”
We both know that nothing will come up. I don’t know what Peter did in Miami and I’m not sure I want to, but I feel this strange sense of certainty and relief that whatever he did meansthat Inessa will no longer haunt me with lawsuits, threats, extortion or anything else.
Peter sends me a text around midday with a request for dinner at a nice Italian restaurant calledDolce Vitain downtown Buffalo. It’s an expensive, trendy restaurant which has a dress code – not the type of thing you can normally impose on the people of Buffalo without protest.
He swears it’s a welcome back dinner and there’s a weird tension I feel not knowing whether this is a date or… some type of goodbye. If my suspicions are correct, Peter just ‘whacked’ someone and the smart thing to do if law enforcement caught wind of him now would be to disappear over the border and never return.
I wouldn’t help him do that but he might have done this to protect me and the baby without thinking of himself – or maybe thinking that staying away from me might be better than fighting for my love.
I’m so unfamiliar with those new, fluttery romantic feelings that they all just feel childish and inappropriate. But I can’t help running through every potential way this entire night could end fucked up. It’s a bad habit from being unlucky in romance that I really want to get rid of.
Everything I feel is a whirlwind and I wish I felt less out of control, but maybe that’s what it’s supposed to feel like when you really love somebody. I have no clue what the future will hold for me or Peter, but I want there to be a future. Even if… Even if he committed a crime. I have no proof that he did and as long as he’s smart enough to not give me any proof…
I’ll know he only did what he did out of love for me and because he wanted to protect me. In his world, that involves violence. I can offer my own form of protection with legal services if it comes to that.But maybe he’s going to run.I still have lingering fears that despite everything I pushed too far to the point of pushing Peter away.
I’m all nervous until dinner and then I spend way too long getting ready the same way I did the morning I had to retake the LSAT. It’s crazy how the last time I felt this bundled up in nerves was because of pursuing my dream after life had already knocked me down a peg with my first dismal LSAT scores.I’m also getting a second chance with Peter.
If I can make it through dinner without denying my love for him and if he still wants to stay… Maybe it’s time for me to put all my cards on the table and just admit to both of us what I really want. I know my family wouldn’t judge me for remarrying, especially when I tell my mother that she’ll finally get her precious first grandbaby from me. She already has grandbabies, but she wants one from me specifically because she never thought I would have kids.
The way things were going with me and Kennard – neither did I. At first, my feelings were tangled up about all the shit that got me into this situation with Peter. But I feel just… weightless. And I don’t want to admit to myself (or to anyone) that this might just be the case because of what Peter did for me.
That unspoken, wicked thing that I will forgive him for because I love him and I see what he was willing to sacrifice for me – something darker and more sacred than what anyone else would.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Peter
Ispot Aricia the moment I walk into the restaurant. I’m late because Flora had too many appliances plugged into the kitchen circuit and blew out half the lights at the apartment downtown – where I had absolutely no intentions of being for the rest of the night. I would have left her alone in the dark if it weren’t for how she helped us in Miami. My sister’s a good girl and she deserves better than us.
Aricia leans forward, her eyes locking with mine the moment I stumble through the door late. She’s fucking gorgeous – obviously – and dressed in something so perfect it’s like she stepped out of a dream. It’s a floor length, navy blue dress pinned at the waist by a gold brooch. She’s tall without heels, but seems a little taller than I remember, so she might be wearing them.
Doesn’t matter what she’s wearing – I definitely plan on taking it off after dinner. And after we secure our future together. Tonight, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ve done enough for Aricia that I need to just come out with it and ask her for exactly what I want, even if she thinks I’m crazy.
I want marriage.
