That startles a laugh out of me. “That’s dark, even for you.”
“Just an idea,” she says, grinning. “Consider it onthe table.”
Back at Mia’s house, they hover for a bit, making sure I’m okay before leaving me alone with my thoughts. Valerie heads back to open the print shop for the afternoon, while Mia retreats to her home office to catch up on paperwork, but not before making me promise to tell her if I need anything.
I curl up on the couch, still in my court clothes, staring at my phone. It’s time. No more waiting, no more excuses. I’m free now, legally and completely free. My finger hovers over his contact for a long moment before I finally type:
Me:It’s done. The divorce is final. I’m ready to see you now, if you still want to meet.
His response comes almost immediately, as if he’s been waiting by his phone:
Unknown Number:Name the place and time.
My heart beats faster as I type:
Me:The bookstore. Tonight at 7?
Another quick response:
Unknown Number:I’ll be there. No masks this time. Just me.
I set the phone down, my hand trembling slightly. After all this time, I’m finally going to see his face again. But as I stare out the window at Mia’s backyard, where the few trees outside are now bare, I realize something strange: I already know who he is.
Little clues have been adding up. Things Mia has said, the way she sometimes looks at her phone with an expressionI can’t quite read, the “family emergency” that pulled her away from the hospital the night Eli attacked me. And sometimes, when he texted me, I can almost hear the voice from the bookstore, from my back steps, from the club, and at Akira Sushi.
Tonight, I’ll know for sure.
29
Anthony
My phone buzzes againstmy palm, and my heart nearly stops when I see her name. Lila. After two months of silence, of giving her the space she asked for, she’s finally reaching out. I read her message three times, making sure I’m not imagining things:
Lila:It’s done. The divorce is final. I’m ready to see you now, if you still want to meet.
My fingers tremble as I type back, trying to sound calmer than I feel, like I haven’t been checking my phone every five minutes for weeks hoping to hear from her.
Me:I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Name the place and time.
Simple. Direct. Not revealing how my stomach is doing somersaults or how my pulse is racing like I’ve just run a marathon.
Her response comes almost immediately:
Lila:The bookstore. Tonight at 7?
The bookstore. Where this all began. Where I first saw her, first spoke to her. It feels right, bringing this full circle. I glance at my watch, 4:30. Two and a half hours to prepare for the moment I’ve been both dreading and longing for.
Me:I’ll be there. No masks this time. Just me.
I set the phone down on my kitchen counter and let out a long, shaky breath. This is it. No more hiding, no more secrets. After tonight, Lila will know for sure who I am. Not just the masked man who’s been watching her, but Anthony Russo, GameStream owner, Mia’s brother, and the man who’s fallen hopelessly in love with her.
What the fuck do I wear to reveal myself to the woman I’ve been essentially stalking? As much as I hate using that word. The thought is so absurd I actually laugh out loud; the sound echoing in my empty townhouse. I head to my closet, pushing aside the dark clothing I wore for my nighttime watches. Tonight, I need to look like myself.
I settle on dark jeans and a charcoal gray button-down, simple but nice. A heavy jacket and my helmet. Not trying too hard, but not casual either. I want her to see me as I am, the real Anthony, not the mysterious figure who followed her or the businessman who runs GameStream.
In the shower, I let hot water pound against my shoulders, trying to wash away the anxiety building in my chest. What if she actually hasn’t figured out who I am, and she’s angry when she sees me? What if she’s disappointed? What if she’s expecting something better than me?
No. I can’t go down that road. Whatever happens tonight, at least it will be honest. At least we’ll finally face each other without masks or secrets between us.
