“Why not just tell them? Why keep her a secret?” Evie asks.
“Because that’s not how people stay safe. I’m not sorry I brought her here. Because if it weren’t for her, you’d be on the fucking floor of Carlo’s penthouse with a goddamn bullet between your eyes. Is that what you would prefer?” Now I’m the one yelling. I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. I do not want to yell at this woman, but fuck, she frustrates the shit out of me.
“What I’d prefer is not being in a situation where I’m at risk of being shot at in the first place.”
“I… That’s never going to be our reality, Evie. I can put in as much security and safety protocols that money can buy into place around you. I can do everything I know to keep you safe. But I can’t guarantee that you’ll never be put at risk again. I’m not going to lie to you and give you false hope that our lives are going to play out in some little cottage with a white picket fence,” I tell her.
“No, they’re going to be in compounds surrounded by men in black suits who carry rifles everywhere,” she says.
“I’m sorry.” I’m at a loss for words. “I know that you deserve better than this. I want to give you that, but I can’t.”
Evie frowns at me. “Are you dumping me? Because you don’t get to do that. You don’t get tomake me fall in fucking love with you, Emmanuel Lopez, and then break up with me.”
I laugh, because the mere thought of me dumping her is absurd. “No, Evie, I’m not dumping you. I came in here to give you this.” I wave the laptop in the air.
“Why?”
“I’ve saved some stores on the Google page. I want you to go through them and pick out a white dress.” I hand Evie the computer.
“A dress for what?” she asks.
“Open the laptop, Evie. Have a look.” I sit on the edge of the bed.
Evie comes and sits next to me, opening the laptop and then clicking on the first tab in the Google browser. “E… what? These are wedding dresses,” she says. “In Milan.”
“I know. We’re going to Milan, and we’re getting married,” I tell her.
“What? Seriously? When?”
“Tomorrow,” I say. “Pick a dress. You are going to be my wife.”
“Are you sure?” Evie looks me in the eye. She can’t be fucking serious right now.
“Am I sure? Evie, I don’t know what else I have to do to get you to trust me. I don’t know what I can say to reassure you that you are it for me.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“You don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t have just asked me if I was fucking another woman,” I tell her.
“Deep down, I knew you weren’t. But I got jealous, okay? You have a damn pet name for her, E. And she knows her way around your house. I don’t like that another woman is so comfortable in your space. It was jealousy, not mistrust. If I really thought you were fucking someone else, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You have no reason to be jealous, Evie.” I cup her cheek with my hand, my thumb stroking up and down the smooth skin. “You are the only person I see in a room. You are the only one I want.”
“Be honest. When you look at me, is it really me that you see? Or is it her?” Evie asks.
“It’s you,” I reply quickly. “I haven’t compared you to her since that first night we met, Evie. I swear it’s you.”
“See? I’m even jealous of a ghost. Something is wrong with me.” She shakes her head.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” I tell her. “I was jealous of a fucking towel, Evie, because that fabric was touching your body when I couldn’t.”
“Well, yeah, but we already know you’re insane. One of us has to have all of our screws tight, E. We can’t both be nutty.”
“You are not nutty or insane or anything else of the sort. You might have very questionable taste in men, but I’m not here to point that out.” I laugh.
“Can we… Can you lie down with me.” Evie moves up the bed and slips under the blankets.
“Are you tired?” I ask her.
