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Pain moved across his face. “Madigan—”
“No.” I shoved the letters away from him. “You don’t get to appear after four years and tell me to run. You didn’t run.”
“I know.”
“You knew what they would do if they found you, and you kept going.”
“I know, baby.”
“You had a wife. You had a son. You knew death was following you, and you chose the investigation anyway.” My voice broke, releasing the questions I had screamed over his file and carried ever since. “How can you ask something of me you wouldn’t do yourself?”
Salvatore didn’t defend himself. He looked at me with the same terrible honesty Rurik had given me when excuses would have been kinder.
“Because I know what it cost.”
The answer silenced me.
“I thought I was protecting you,” he said. “Every secret I kept felt like another door I could close between you and the people hunting me. I told myself I would explain when it ended.”
“You knew it might never be over.”
“Yes.” His fingers curled against the table. “I knew.”
“Then why leave Rurik the file? Why make certain I would find the truth if the threat returned?”
“Because the truth belonged to you.” Salvatore leaned forward, his eyes holding mine. “I wanted you to know why I couldn’t come home. I never wanted knowing to become the reason you didn’t.”
Tears blurred his face. I wiped them away, but more followed. “You decided for me.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You left me to live with everything you were too afraid to tell me.”
His voice lowered. “Yes.”
The admission should have fed my anger. Instead, it stripped away the last place I could hide from his regret.
“I understand why you did it,” I whispered. “I know you loved us.”
“I did.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No, baby. It doesn’t.”
Salvatore reached across the table. His hand covered mine, warm and solid enough to make death feel impossible. I turned my palm beneath his and held on.
“You and Henry were why I kept going,” he said. “You were also why I should have stopped. I couldn’t tell which choice would keep you safe until I had already made the one that took me away.” I bowed my head over our joined hands. “I don’t know how to stop now.”
“That isn’t what I’m asking.”
“You want me to walk away.”
“I want you to live.”
