We lay in comfortable silence for a while. Then Sandro spoke again.
"What you said today. About repaying the money. Were you serious?"
"Yes. I've been making payments since I started at Diana's firm. Thirty thousand so far. I figured if I'm paying you back, no one can claim I was bought."
"I never wanted you to pay me back."
"I know. But I wanted to. For my own peace of mind." I shifted to look at him. "Does it bother you?"
"No. It's very you. Ethical and principled even when you're in love with someone who's neither of those things." He smiled slightly. "Keep the payments if it makes you feel better. Or don't. Either way, the money's not why I love you."
"Why do you love me?"
"Because you're brilliant and ethical and brave. Because you chose me knowing it would cost you everything. Because you defended me in court and on the witness stand without compromising who you are." He cupped my face. "Because you make me want to be better than what I was raised to be."
"You are better. You let Vincent go with mercy instead of violence. You're trying."
"Because you asked me to." He kissed me softly. "That's what love is, isn't it? Choosing to be better because someone you care about asks you to try."
"I think so. I'm still learning." I settled back against his chest. "Marco called it Stockholm syndrome. Said I fell for my captor."
"Did you?"
"Maybe. I don't know anymore. All I know is I chose you. Keep choosing you. That has to mean something."
"It means everything." He tightened his arms around me. "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow we go back to court. Back to playing our roles. But tonight we're just us."
I fell asleep in his arms feeling safer than I had all day. Despite the trial. Despite my testimony being used against him. Despite everything still uncertain and unresolved.
Because this—us—this was real.
Everything else was just noise we'd learn to navigate together.
I woke before dawn. Sandro was still asleep beside me. One arm thrown across my waist possessively even in sleep.
In a few hours we'd be back in that courtroom. But this moment—right now—this was ours.
I kissed his shoulder gently. Slipped out of bed. Found my clothes from yesterday. Got dressed quietly.
Sandro stirred. "Where are you going?"
"Home. Need to change before court. But I'll see you there."
"Emilio." He sat up. Hair mussed. Eyes still heavy with sleep. "Thank you. For last night. For everything."
"You don't have to thank me for loving you."
"Maybe not. But I'm grateful anyway." He stood and walked to me. Naked and unselfconscious. "Whatever happens with this trial. Whatever the jury decides. We're going to be okay. Together."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He kissed me. Long and deep. "Now go. I'll see you in court."
I left his apartment and drove home through empty morning streets. Showered. Changed into a fresh suit. Tried not to think about what the prosecution's remaining witnesses would say.
Tried not to think about how close we were to a verdict that could change everything.
Tried not to think about anything except the way Sandro had held me last night. The way he'd made love to me like I was precious. The way he'd promised we'd be okay.
