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I like to think I would’ve jumped into the ocean to save anyone from drowning. But would it have felt as desperate as it did when it was Scarlett? Definitely not.

My stomach churns just thinking about it. The way the gunshot continues to ring out in my mind. The way I felt nauseous at the sight of her sinking beneath the waves.

Feelings are a dangerous thing. They make you vulnerable. They’re distracting. And yet they’re bubbling up in me. Something that feels a little like wooziness. Nervousness.

Something that feels like love.

All I have to do is tell the truth. It really shouldn’t be that hard. What am I waiting for? Every minute that passes is one minute closer to us having to say goodbye. Fuck it.

“I love you, Scarlett,” I blurt out. “I love you, and it shouldn’t have taken you getting shot and thinking that I’ve nearly lost you for me to tell you that. I’ve never really known what love could be, but I think it looks a hell of a lot like what we have. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. When I’m thinking about you, I’m hoping that somewhere, bad guys are doing bad things that will bring us back together again. I may be so caught up in my lies that I don’t even know who I am anymore, but I do know this: I love you and I think I have since the moment you demolished me in hand-to-hand combat.”

It’s an admission that feels like a confession. But if I’m guilty of loving Scarlett, then yeah, I’ll confess. Right away, I feel closer to the truth of who I really am. Of who’s been underneath this persona I’ve built up for myself over the years.

But then… silence.

Oh god. I clamp my mouth and eyes shut.

Did I just ruin this? Overshare in the name of keeping promises? Strangely, though, I have no regrets. Whatever happens next, I can be at peace with it, knowing she’s okay. Knowing that I’m no longer lying. To her or myself.

I open one eye and glance down, and there, on my shoulder, Scarlett’s fallen asleep. I don’t know at what point she drifted off, if she heard any of it at all. But I spoke my truth out loud. It’s a step in the right direction.

I carefully lower her onto the pillow and cover her with a blanket. She looks so peaceful, so beautiful. When she wakes up, I’ll say it all again, but better. I love Scarlett Payne. I’m not a bad guy. I’ve been in bad circumstances.

If only that last part had been easier to remember, maybe I wouldn’t have sabotaged the one good thing I had going in my life.

The encrypted text from a trusted colleague comes in later that evening while Scarlett’s still asleep.

Stay alert. Investigation incoming.

I try to find out as many details as I can. It’s something to do with the Icicle necklace. I’m all nerves and impatience for the rest of the night.

I’m picking up dinner when I hear from my boss. I’m being called in. I’m one of the few people who’s had the Icicle in my possession. And now something’s happened to it. Whatever it is, this is bad. Really, really bad.

“Where are you going?” Scarlett asks, voice thick with sleep. It’s early the next morning.

“I have to go,” I tell her. It’s a shitty explanation, if it can even be called that.

“Where?”

“Back to Chicago.”

“Now?” She sits up. “Did something happen?”

“Maybe. It sounds serious,” I tell her. “I can’t say more than that.”

I already hate myself for the way I’m leaving. I wanted the investigation to be over by the time we talked again so I wouldn’t have to keep more secrets from her. She can’t know about what’s happening, so by default I’m lying to her. I don’t want to lie to her anymore.

She finds the note I left her on the table. The one with the plans I arranged for her to get home safely once she’s released from the hospital.

“You’re leaving, and you left this as your goodbye?” she asks, her usual bright tone dulled.

“I know, it’s pathetic,” I admit, setting down my bag and sitting next to her on the hospital bed.

“What’s going on?” she asks, the hurt in her voice nearly breaking me.

“I’m about to be in the middle of something.” It’s the most I can give her. “Something potentially career-ending. It’s still hot.”

“Is this about the money thing?”