“Tony, I’m so afraid that if I ask what I want to ask, that what we have right here—right now—will end. You know the saying—ignorance is bliss?”
He nodded.
“I’m enjoying my bliss.”
“We don’t have to discuss anything you don’t want to discuss.”
She nestled her cheek against the soft cotton shirt. “Do you know what questions I need to ask?”
As he replied, his chest vibrated against her cheek, “I have some idea, but I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t ready to go. You deserve to know the whole truth. The thing is—I never imagined telling anyone the whole story—the whole truth. The only person who knew it all—well, we never needed to discuss it.” Looking directly into her eyes, he continued, “It’s as if—if I say any part of it—or all of it—out loud—it makes it real.”
Claire shook her head and spoke into his shirt, “No, Tony, whether you say it aloud or not—it’s real.”
He gently lifted her chin, creating the connection that over the years glued them together. “Do you remember me telling you that sometimes the whole truth is too much to handle?”
“I do. I also remember you saying many other things and doing many other things. I need to know why. I need to know what you did, and what was done by someone else. If I don’t know the truth, my imagination takes me places I don’t want to go.” Tony looked away and gazed over her head toward the setting sun; Claire reached up and redirected his eyes back to hers. “We have a child coming—sooner rather than later. I love you. You’re the father of my baby. I want a family; however, if we don’t have complete honesty—we have nothing.”
His chest rose and fell. The eyes looking down at Claire were, once again, filled with remorse. There was a part of her that longed for the black voids of the past—those she could change and pacify. The pain she was witnessing behind the intense brown was his doing—she couldn’t take it away. All she could do was share the burden.
Tony sighed. “If after you hear it all, you want me gone—from your life—and from our child’s life—I wouldn’t blame you.”
Claire smirked. “I’ve wanted you gone before, but you’re still here.”
He grinned. For a split second, she saw the gleam she loved emerge from the sadness. “I believe I’ve told you what I think about that smart mouth.”
Her lips grazed his exposed neck. “Yes, I believe you’ve said you like it.”
Tony reclaimed her petite hand, and they continued walking. “How far have you walked? Can you circle the entire island?”
“I haven’t tried. I’ve only been as far as the orchards. I did leave the island once, when I went to town with Francis. I went to see the doctor. Other than that, I haven’t wanted to leave the grounds around the house.”
Tony’s cadence slowed. “I don’t say it enough. Even though it’s deserved, it’s difficult for me to say—but Claire, I’m sorry. You’re living in fear—on an island—and it’s entirely my fault.”
Her tone hardened. “No, Tony, it isn’t. At least, I don’t believe it is—completely. I know some of it’s your doing, but I need to know how much.”
After a prolonged silence, he replied, “I don’t doubt you can handle it; you’ve handled so much. You’ve always been so strong. It’s what—”
“I know—it’s what infuriated you about me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Yes—and it’s what made me fall in love with you.” He seemed lost in thought until he went on, “I fell in love with you while you were with me in Iowa. Like I said before, it wasn’t supposed to be like that, yet every day, you’d do something, or say something, that would stay with me. I’d be at work or in the gym, and I’d remember it. Sometimes it made me angry, but most of the time, it made me smile.” He stopped their progress and peered into her eyes. “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To suddenly be thinking about another person when you least expect it?”
She looked up and smiled a closed lip smile. The emerald of her green eyes shone with the spark of the setting sun as she answered, “I do.”
Tony shook his head. “I didn’t. I never had—never in forty plus years, but then, when you were in prison, I reflected back and I realized—I had. There was someone who appeared in my thoughts, over and over, for years. Someone whose life interested me—someone I watched—and someone who I paid to have followed. It was a different obsession—different than the other people on our list. Without me realizing it, that person consumed my thoughts, and though I didn’t think it possible—she took my heart.”
Claire’s heartbeat quickened. Did she want to know who dominated his thoughts and took his heart?