Most bodyguards want off for the holidays, so I had plenty to keep me busy. My latest client, a senator, had huge get-togethers for both Christmas and New Year’s Eve. With his family threatened, I had to stay vigilant.
I was doing okay until the ball dropped. Then as lovers hugged and kissed, my chest tightened. It took all my willpower not to text the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Mid-January, congress is back in session. Waiting outside the chambers with the rest of security, my thoughts wander to her as an older gent in a dark suit approaches.
“Girl trouble?”
“That obvious, huh?” I shove my phone in my pocket, not at all surprised he guessed correctly.
The men in this room are some of the most perceptive in the world. In his late fifties, he’s had plenty of time to sharpen his skills. “What’re you waiting for? Go get her.”
“It’s complicated.” I don’t want to be an asshole but it’s none of his business. We spend a lot of time here and I have no desire to make our lives awkward.
The gold band on his left-hand flashes under the chandelier as he scratches his bald head. “You young people have the worst expressions. It’s simple. Do you love her?”
“I did.” As an image of my dark gypsy appears in my mind, my gut aches. According to the doctor, it’s heart burn. Go figure.
A dog with a bone, the pesky man refuses to let it go. “No sir, there is no past tense. If you love someone, it doesn’t end.”
So, how long you been married?” I congratulate myself for cleverly changing the subject until the frown lines around his mouth and nose deepen.
“It would’ve been thirty years next week. I lost her. Cancer.” The poor guy sighs. What if Rose had died? How would I feel?
Ah shit. I’m an ass.“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, well, then do me a favor. Text your girl and patch it up.”
Recalling my pathetic exit at the bar, I shake my head. “I’m afraid it’s too late.”
“Life is too long to spend by yourself, son. Whatever you said or done, get her to forgive you.”
“Dammit! Almost every fucking thing I do reminds me of her, and it pisses me off!” As my voice echoes in the chamber, my face heats, and I race across the hallowed halls.
Outside, I reach into my pocket, pull out a pack of smokes, light up, and pace. Fuck. I’m a mess. When Slate hears of my outburst, and I have no doubt he will, I’ll be benched until I’m okayed by his shrink.
Thinking of her made up pillow doctor, I swallow the knot in my throat. She was so damn cute. What made me screw it up?
Hand shaking, I pick up my cellphone and stare for the longest time. Sending the text is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Me: I miss you.
Like a kid up before everyone else on Christmas, I wait for her reply. By now, she’s moved on and I probably won’t hear from her for days, if at all.
At the sudden ping, I don’t dare look. It’s too soon. The quick response is no doubt a rude emoji.
Rose: I miss you, too.
I wipe my eyes, clear my throat, and look away, hoping no one saw.
Me: Talk later?
Rose: I’d like that.
Chapter 32
Rose
With the bright sun warming the cool air, Mom opens the front door, and a slight breeze caresses my skin. Exuberant shouts from the street filter in from the sidewalk and I wave out the window at the kids on skateboards. St. Patrick’s Day in the city has always been one of my favorites. How can you not like a holiday which boasts a parade, green beer and green bagels? Not only that, today marks the end of winter.
