Enya frowns inquiringly.
“I love a woman who loves food,” Daisy states, supremely satisfied.
18
FORGIVE BUT NEVER FORGET
ENYA
Ikick off my shoes and sink onto the couch. My body is tired in that bone deep way that has nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with emotion.
Nick sits across from me, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.
“Daisy is leaving tomorrow,” I say almost mournfully.
“She is.”
“I’m going to miss her.”
Nick smiles. “She has that effect on people.”
We fall silent for a while, each of us waiting for the other to broach the uncomfortable subject of his colleague—his ex, or whatever she is.
I go first because I know he won’t, because he, I have learned, gives space—knows when to and how to.
“So…this Kiera person…she and you….”
“Yeah. It was…not a relationship. Not like us.”
I rest against the pillows and stroke my belly in small circles. “Is there no part of you that misses that life?”
“The secret agent life?” he asks, amused.
I nod.
“You know it’s not like I’m James Bond.”
I laugh. “You don’t say.”
“No, Enya, I don’t miss it.”
He comes closer, sits on the coffee table, and puts his hand on mine. “And it’s not just because of the baby. I…you know, when you were in that interview room talking to Ruiz?—”
“You were on the other side of the mirror,” I finish for him.
“I was.”
“I know.”
He takes my hand in his. “I know you know.”
He kisses my belly. “I can’t wait to be a parent. But I don’t want to just co-parent. I want us to be a family.”
Many people have done me wrong in my life—but no one has apologized. No one has done what Nick is doing, showing up every day, being there, even when I try to kick him out.
“Nick, I need to be honest with you.”
He looks up.
