“And the bad ones?”
“They end up a fair-weather believer like me. Only in crisis do I rediscover my faith.”
“And you’ve rediscovered it now?”
Liam glanced back at the priest, who signed a cross over Gio’s casket heaped with lilies.
“As our friend would say, for everything there is a season. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time for war and a time for peace.”
Amelia parsed the truth from the gospel. Burying Gio was like closing a book; not just on his life, but the false normalcy they’d all enjoyed. Wine-soaked nights and grief forgotten between the sheets would soon end.
“I take it the time for peace and healing is done,” she said.
On a pea gravel path, they passed a marble angel in mourning, its face buried in the crook of its elbow. In its hand were flowerscovered in verdigris. Liam veered toward a black sedan third in line behind the hearse.
“Most of the men back there are soldiers trained in peacetime,” he said. “They haven’t known war. They will soon.”
Amelia hummed as if she knew. Maybe she did. Big death wasn’t such a distant notion anymore. The concept made contact. These days, she viewed it through the lens of a man whose arms she’d fallen asleep in, his tender touches clipped from her fantasies.
What would dad say if he saw me now?
Nothing.
He’d turn to ice in the stifling heat, the silence of a shattered heart. Still, missing him was a fog that never fully lifted. Amelia roamed in the haze until light broke through with glimpses of her past; the person she was, the people she missed.
“You know why I’m telling you this?” Liam asked.
Not a clue.If he wanted to scare her, he might’ve said worse. Amelia shrugged and offered the only thing that came to mind.
“So I know my place?”
Liam laughed as if tickled by the honesty and touched by the humility. She hadn’t intended either.
“No. You’ve found your place.” He gestured to Emory standing with Jack beside Gio’s grave and with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You need to understand what’s coming, though. War is hell, and you’re his queen. Emory will look to you for peace and comfort. If you can’t give him that, then it’s best to stop this before it truly begins.”
Liam opened the passenger door for Amelia, and she settled in stiffly with the age-old tale. In it, a wild woman wavers like the open ocean and lures a good man to his grave. What could be done? Silence the siren, and save that good man from himself.
She watched warily as Liam shed his jacket and circled the car with a purposeful gait. It wasn’t a chance arrangement, but a decisive strategy to get her alone. He climbed in and fired up the engine, but Amelia stopped him as he reached for the gearshift.
“After the war, what happens then?”
“Life moves on,” Liam said. “Emory has always wanted his equal, and he’s found it in you. You two will carve out your empire together. With him, you’ll have whatever you want.”
Amelia smiled but not for her future foretold. Love like that was a limerence, as liable to drive her and Emory mad as it was to bring them happiness and peace.
“That’s a romantic take. I’m not sure the world works that way.”
“Ours does. You chose Emory. You must choose his world too.”
“You mean pick a side.”
Amelia knew damn well the ever-widening divide she straddled. One day, she’d face a grievous decision—swear an allegiance or be torn apart. Liam nodded, his stare exacting. It unbuttoned her attempt at neutrality and left her doubts exposed.
“Why?” she asked. “So many of the women here live in both worlds. They weren’t made to choose.”
“That’s an illusion, Amelia. They work their jobs and raise their children, but they don’t truly exist in both worlds. Push comes to shove, they know where their loyalty lies.”
Liam paused and surveyed Emory and Jack making their way from Gio’s grave.
