I wiped my hands on a napkin, gathering courage. “Me too. I missed you.”
When we finished eating, neither of us seemed ready for the night to end. Without discussing it, we walked away from the food truck lot, down streets lit by old-fashioned lampposts, the neighborhood transitioning from commercial to residential.
“I don’t know what comes next. I’ve been wearing that badge so long, I’m not sure who I am without it.”
I glanced at him sideways. “You’re the same man. Just . . . unbadged.”
He chuckled at that. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m something else entirely. Something new.”
We stopped at a small park, just a patch of green with a couple of benches surrounded by magnolia trees. Without discussion, we sat on the nearest bench, close enough that our knees almost touched.
“The Justice Department offered me a position with the Oversight Division. Investigating police misconduct nationally, but the position’s not in Birmingham.”
I turned to face him better. “That’s . . . wow. That’s perfect for you.”
“Don’t go back to Atlanta.”
I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap. “It’s my home. Plus, I was afraid of ruining your career by staying too close.”
“My career was mine to risk. And what happened, . . . I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“What about the new position?”
I shrugged matter-of-factly. “I don’t know yet.”
The night air was heavy with humidity, and a distant rumble of thunder promised rain that might never come.
“I love you. I don’t know exactly what’s next, but I know I want you there for it. Whether that’s in Birmingham or Atlanta or somewhere else entirely.”
Ronan’s confession lingered between us, his honesty both a responsibility and a gift.
“Peace never stays long where love is involved,” I said finally, a wry smile lifting the corner of my mouth, though my heart wanted a different story, one of hope, of a willingness to try despite all the complications that still lay ahead.
Ronan understood what I wasn’t saying out loud. He always had, from that first moment in the holding cell when he’d seen past Dr. Price the activist, to Nia the woman. He reached across the small space between us, his hand open, an invitation rather than a demand.
I put my hand in Ronan’s. We sat quietly, not needing words to confirm what we already knew.
16
RONAN
Some habits die hard, even without a badge. I still walked like rules were for everyone else. I was second-guessing if I should’ve dressed up. Hell, why was I tripping? I used to make critical decisions without breaking a sweat.
As I got closer, I could see she was writing, probably preparing her lecture notes.
My nerves were worse than ever. I wasn’t used to feeling this uncertain or exposed. I’d faced armed suspects with more calm than I had walking up to this five-foot-six woman surrounded by notebooks and bare feet.
I shifted the bouquet from behind my back to my side, not quite ready to present them yet. What was I even doing here? We’d made no plans to meet, hadn’t exchanged any messages since that night at the food truck. For all I knew, she’d changed her mind and decided loving Birmingham’s ex-chief of police was more complicated than she needed.
Then I remembered her hand in mine on that park bench. How she hadn’t pulled away when I’d said those three words that changed everything. How she’d looked at me with eyes that held the same fear as mine, but also the same hope.
That was what I had now, hope. After weeks of protecting each other by staying apart, of misunderstandings and federal watchlists and resignations, we had found our way back to the possibility of something real. Something worth fighting for.
I squared my shoulders; the wildflowers grasped firmly in my right hand. I blew out air and stepped across the grass toward her. Toward whatever came next.
Her head came up as my shadow fell across her papers, those deep brown eyes widening for just a second before her whole face lit up with a smile that hit me like a physical force. Damn. That smile could probably power the whole campus if they hooked it up right.
“Ronan, what are you doing here?” she questioned, my name in her mouth sounding like something precious.
