"Eric."
Silence stretched between us, the only sound was his soft breathing.
"Can I come over?" He asked gently, although there was an urgency underneath. "I can explain everything. Whatever you need to know."
I closed my eyes, leaning back against my headboard. "I do want to speak with you. Just not tonight."
"Okay." He didn't argue, didn't push. Always so considerate. Save for the lying. "Whatever you need."
"I'm still wrapping my head around everything." I tucked my legs underneath me, pulling a pillow against my chest. "I know who you are now. Sofia shared some things with me, although she said I should talk to you about most of it."
"What kinds of things?"
"Just basics about you and your family, that you seem trustworthy and good to your allies."
"But you still aren't sure about me?"
"It's not that, there's still so much I don't know. I don't know who you really are, Eric." My throat tightened, but I shoved itaside, the anger flaring up to suppress the sadness. It was a bad coping mechanism.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"I needed to fucking know you were in the mafia. That you have a target on your back. Hell, you've probably killed people!" I snapped.
"Is that a statement or a question?" he said calmly after a moment, and I wanted to punch him through the phone.
"Have you?" My voice lowered.
"Yes."
I swallowed. "How?"
"Do you really want to know that, Ivy? There's a side of me that is a part of me, but you don't need to see it or know it. I'd rather you didn't."
Those words cooled my fire just a little. Did I truly want to know? Morbid curiosity said yes, but the part of me that wanted to still have hope for us, that stupid, dumb, broken part, said maybe I should overlook it.
"Did they deserve it? Were there ever any innocents?" I opted to ask instead. It seemed like the better choice.
"I never hurt anyone innocent, and never women or children," he assured me. Sofia had said their morals aligned with the Donati, who had the same code. Since my trust in him had waned, I was trusting her word more.
"I need to figure out what I want to do next." I said quietly, the fire now flickering out as exhaustion overwhelmed me. "I'd appreciate it if you gave me a little bit of space and time."
Another pause. I could almost picture him in his hotel room, jaw tight, fingers curled into fists as he fought against every instinct telling him to show up at my door anyway.
I remembered the times we'd fought last time we were together, my fire getting to be too much, my trauma overwhelming me and making me try to sabotage us. He'dignored my insults and attempts to keep him away, and he'd come to me, holding me as I'd screamed and then cried.
I'd grown since then, done some work on myself. I wasn't the same Ivy anymore. Still wild, but more calm in ways. More in-tune with my emotions and needs.
"I'll do whatever you need," he said finally, as if he sensed the shift within me as well. Either that, or he knew this was bigger now, with more at stake with his alliance. "But if you want me there, I'll be there in a heartbeat. Any time. Just say the word."
A strange relief washed over me. He wasn't making promises about being perfect or claiming this would all work out. He was just offering himself. That was all I needed, too. No false promises, no false hope. Just him, willing to do what was needed and to be there.
"Thank you."
"Good night, Ivy."
"Good night."
I ended the call and set my phone down, hating the lump in my throat. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty. A part of me did want him here, holding me, telling me everything would be okay. But that was weak, and I needed to be logical just this one time in my life. To make the smart choice rather than the impulsive one.
