“I think we always pay attention to the bad thoughts, but what about the good ones? I think they’re always forgotten, left in the dark.” I speak with passion. “I think they need to be shown love. Because they’re abandoned.” I grip her hand tighter in my own as tears fall down my face. “Let’s both list off three positive things in our lives right now.” I pause and watch her frown. “I’ll go first.”
Licking my dry lips, I focus my gaze on the wall over her shoulder. “I have an amazing mom, we’re both blessed with health, and we have a bed to sleep in and a roof over our heads.”
Silence fills the air. She’s not going to say anything … is she? She just stares at me. No emotion crosses her face as I feel her thumb brush against my skin.
“I’m thankful for you, my job that enables me to support you, and coffee.” She smiles after that and chuckles to herself.
I joke, “Don’t forget romance books.”
“And British men,” she adds playfully.
Our laughs fill the room as we think about how stupid we are. Moments like this are my favorite, just me and Mom joking around like schoolgirls. I’ll forever cherish these memories, just like how I look back at moments with my dad.
“You shouldn’t be mad at him,” she suddenly says after our laughter dies down. “Leonidas has a heart filled with gold. He didn’t cause your father to get killed. I’m sure he lives with the consequences every day. The thoughts in his mind must be terrifying.” Her hand lightly trembles as she tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I know you must be thinking very hard about this. Even though I lost a husband, I don’t for a second blame his death on Leonidas. It was the man behind the gun, not an innocent bystander.”
As I try to respond, a stutter leaves my lips. Why do I always find it hard to open up? I have so much to say, but as I open my mouth to do so, nothing comes out.
Her glassy eyes assess me. “What are you afraid of?”
“Dad being mad at me for being with him,” I say as my throat threatens to shut.
I watch as she sits up from the bed. Crossing her legs, she lets out a defeated sigh.
“The one thing your father would ever want for you is to be happy. He would want to see you shine with complete happiness. What happened that day … if he had known what was going on around him and he wasn’t in the way, he probably would have jumped in front of Leonidas to protect him. Everyone knows and everyone can see that Leonidas makes you happy. Don’t let go of that feeling just because of this. I would do anything to feel what your father made me feel again.” Patting my knee, she kisses my forehead. “He would want you two together.”
Cuddling into the blanket, I watch as she leaves the room. I fiddle with the bracelet around my wrist.
Normal eighteen-year-olds would laugh at the thought of being in a serious relationship at this age. Many say teenagers can’t love, but I disagree. I know I love him when my heart clenches in my chest, just thinking about him. That means love. Love is willing to lose your life for the other.
Being in a serious relationship and loving someone deeply, it doesn’t need to be scary. It’s not like I’m going to marry him tomorrow, but it means I’m going to bring out the best in him.
Lies control Leonidas’s life. I won’t let fear control mine.
I always listen to my gut, but now, it’s time to listen to my heart. Mom is right. I just needed someone to tell me my thoughts out loud. Leonidas didn’t kill my father, so why should I be treating him like he did?
Getting untangled from my blankets, I get ready for my mission—to show Leonidas that even though there isn’t a ring around my finger, I’m in this through thick and thin.
* * *
Never interrupt a woman when she’s on a mission. As I walk the quiet streets of Athens, I glare over at the men who try to stop me. A group of teenage losers catcall me. In response, they get my middle fingers.
Yes, not one, but two.
My eyes focus on Leonidas’s shared location down at my phone. The red pin is placed in the middle of the city. I would have taken a car. It would have been a lot less tiring than all this walking, but I’m embarrassed to speak a language I’m not fluent in.
So, I decided walking twenty minutes away was worth the trouble instead of having to speak Greek.
A thick layer of sweat lines my skin as I stride down the street. The number of times I’ve almost tripped because I’m focusing on getting closer to my destination and not my path is concerning.
My hands shake as my anxiety comes full throttle. The thoughts scream at me from all directions as I walk.
He’s behind you!
You’re next, Trinity!
He’ll never be gone!
Run! Run! Run!
