The hand tightens on the chair. An ache radiates across my chest.
“I’ve killed people, Elizabeth,” I say, without softening it. “Not by accident. I’ve made decisions that ended lives, and I’ll make them again. The man in that chair tonight—” I stop. “I am not a good man. I’ve never claimed to be.”
Silence.
She stares at me across the room, and I stare back, waiting for the retreat, the reconstruction of distance.
“Why are you telling me this?” Her voice is barely above a breath. Unsteady at the edges but present. Still present, still here.
“Because you asked.” I hold her gaze. “And because you were going to find out regardless. And because—” I stop at the third reason. I don’t feel I have the right to simply say it.
Because I love you, because you’re important to me, and because I don’t want you to leave because you’re scared.
I watch her face.
I expect fear; for her to be so taken aback by it all that it causes a physical push.
But she doesn’t move. She stands there, processing.
Then her tongue moves across her lower lip, and she pulls in a breath that expands her entire chest.
Her mouth opens.
My phone rings.
It’s Alexei, priority line, the one that means “act immediately.” The sound cuts through the room like a blade through cloth. I answer before the second ring.
“Yes.”
“It’s Dmitri.”
“What happened?” I ask.
Elizabeth is staring at me, but she shows no reaction, which must mean she can’t hear Alexei.
“He got shot. The doc just called.”
“Shit. I’ll meet you in the operating room.” I hang up.
Elizabeth is still studying me.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
Before I can, she moves. Her hand closes around my forearm, her skin warm.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have things to take care of.”
Her grip doesn’t loosen. “One last question. Before you go.” Her voice only shakes a little. “Please.”
My jaw clenches. I nod.
“Us.” The word hangs there, spare and enormous. “You and me. What are we? What is this?”
My heart skips a beat. I want to tell her what she means to me in a way she can handle. And for a second, I’m almost strong enough to do it.
But my phone keeps ringing, and I know I can’t ignore it. Not again. Despite all the work I’ve occupied myself with over the last few weeks, I’ve been distracted, and it’s her fault. Even if she doesn’t know it.
