We order another bottle. The bar fills with tourists and locals, normal people living normal lives. I wonder what that feels like.
"Can I tell you something horrible?" I say.
"Always," Sarah responds.
"Part of me likes it. The danger. The intensity. Knowing he would literally kill for me."
"That's not love, that's—"
"I know what it is. Or what it isn't. But it's what I have."
"You could have more," Jessica says. "You could have normal."
"I had normal with Derek. Look how that worked out."
"So, because Derek was boring, you swung to the opposite extreme?"
"Maybe."
Sarah pulls something from her purse and hands it to me. A business card. "My cousin works at the U.S. Consulate in Naples. His personal cell number is on the back."
"What is this for?”
"I'm not asking you to call him. I'm just giving you the option. If things go bad, if you need help, he can get you out quickly. He will help you."
I take the card, finger its edges. "You think things will go bad?"
"I think you're playing with fire. Sometimes that means you get burned."
We're quiet again, drinking wine and avoiding eye contact.
"I keep thinking about that movie," Jessica says suddenly. "The one where the woman marries the mob guy and at first it's all romance and protection, but then—"
"This isn't a movie."
"No, it's worse. Movies end. You’re living this indefinitely."
"What if I want to keep living this?"
"Do you?" Sarah asks. "Really? Because from where I'm sitting, you look exhausted. You look like someone who's been performing so long you've forgotten who you really are."
She's not wrong. I am exhausted. The constant vigilance, the careful words, the things I can't know or ask him. It's wearing me down.
"What would you do?" I ask them. "Honestly. If you were me."
"Run and get the hell out of here," Sarah says immediately. "Pack what I could carry and run."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Home. Start over with friends and family who care about you."
"And the debt? The house? Everything I've built here?"
"Leave it. Every damn bit of it. None of that matters if you're not free."
"But I am free. He doesn't control me as much as you think he does."
"Maddie." Jessica's voice is gentle but firm. "He controls everything. Where you live, how your house gets renovated, who you can see, what you can know. That's not freedom."
