We looked over the menu silently. I wasn’t sure when I got so damn needy, but I was worried again. Was she only biding her time until I left town? Would she enjoy our time together then bail after the paintball games? The questions rolling around in my fucking head were making me tense. I finally asked her what I was thinking and put an end to the suspense.
“Did you talk to your sister about last night? Did you tell her how I lost control?”
Harlow shook her head, saying nothing. Still tense, I scratched at my neck. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“I talked about how I didn’t want you to leave,” she said in a soft, almost sad voice.
Now understanding her quiet demeanor since talking with Winnie, I felt like an idiot. “Did you tell her when I leave that I want you to come with me?”
Harlow nodded. I swore she was fighting tears, yet her eyes remained dry.
Sighing, I stood up and changed seats. “I don’t like being so far away from you.”
Smiling at this, Harlow watched me take the seat to her right. Fingers sliding over my forearm, making little circles, she held my gaze.
“I know you’re young,” I said, seeing such fear in her eyes. “I have a decade of experiences under my belt that you don't. I know you’re still living at home and your sister is your best friend. You felt like leaving this town will destroy you. I was scared as hell to leave home when I was your age. Of course, it turned out my leaving didn’t end well. That’s not the point though. My point is despite what I want, I'm aware you're young and I'm asking a lot.”
Harlow’s fingers linked with mine. “The thought of you leaving makes my chest hurt, but I might not be ready for what you need.”
“I said I’d stay in town for a while.”
“Maybe it won't be long enough.”
“No.”
“No what?” she asked.
“You’re not bailing on me because you’re scared. Not after your speech last night.”
“I’m messed up,” she whispered, leaning forward. “I’m not strong enough to be what you need.”
Waving off her worries, I caressed her hand in mine. “I might be about to turn thirty, but I’m like you when it comes to relationships. I’ve only had one girlfriend and we were never sexual.”
Harlow frowned as if I was lying. When she rolled her eyes, I couldn't help laughing.
“It’s true. Her name is Samantha and we met in junior high school. She was in my church group and I didn’t like her at all. She was a tattletale and always using alliteration to give people nicknames. Like Grumpy Gus and Laughing Lydia. Drove me crazy, so I avoided her as much as possible.”
“She sounds special,” Harlow said, distrusting my story.
Laughing at her expression, I continued, “Samantha mellowed out as she got older. So did I. By high school, we started dating and kept dating until we graduated. We even talked about getting married after our missionary work. Samantha traveled to Africa while I went to Mexico.”
“What happened?”
“It would sound perfectly to claim she broke my heart by falling in love with another man while I was locked away in prison. Oh, how I suffered to return and find her marrying a missionary she met in Africa. She ruined me, making me incapable of trusting another woman.”
“That would explain a lot actually.”
“Yeah, but it’d be a lie. I don’t know if I ever loved Samantha as much as a man can love a woman. I did love her though. She was my best friend and like a member of the family. I don’t think I loved her in a passionate way, if that makes sense. I certainly didn’t look at her the way her new guy did. Even if I had loved her that way, I was relieved to know she moved on while I was locked up. If she had waited, I’d have been the asshole who dumped her instead.”
“Because you changed.”
“Yeah. I was a na?ve fuck when I went to Mexico. Being in prison woke up something dark and ugly in me. That part of me had no use for the life I planned with Samantha. I left home a man and returned a killer. She would never understand that part of me and I would never be able to show her my real face. Pretending to be a good man would have been a lie, but I might have wasted time trying to tell it. Instead, God brought her a man who loved her like I never would. She felt guilty, but I was relieved.”
“Do you know what happened to her? Like do you keep in touch?”
“My mom gives me updates. Samantha and her man have two little girls. They run a charity in Mississippi. All rainbows and fairytales.”
“You don’t want any of that kind of life.”
Sighing, I wasn't sure what the right answer might be. “My temporary retirements have become a joke with the Memphis guys, but I really do want to walk away from this job. I just don’t know what the hell to do with myself once I stop being Saint. I never feel like I belong anyway. On my vacations, I do charity work. Then I'll see assholes hurting people and I return to killing.”
Studying Harlow, I continued, “I need someone to keep me grounded. A woman who sees the bad in me, but encourages the good. If I found that woman, we could have a kid and get a home.”