I owed him that much.
“You want the truth? I didn’t want to love you. I still don’t want to love you. But I don’t have a goddamn choice, Bailey. It would be so much easier if I’d never fuckin’ met you. If I’d never heard the gunshot and run toward the sound. I wouldn’t have to be looking over my shoulder every fuckin’ second of every day, hoping they don’t fuckin’ find you. I wouldn’t have to worry about you, wondering if you’re okay physically, mentally, all of it. But it’s been months. Months. You don’t think I see that you’ve checked out? That you don’t want to be here? That you don’t want me? I’m fuckin’ here because I love you. And it’s so pathetic—you standing there begging me for the truth when you can’t even look me in the eye and tell me one yourself. You want my truths? There it is. Now you owe me yours.” He paused a beat; his shoulders slumped as Tiny held on to him. His eyes were bloodshot, his breaths shallow, his words a prayer when he said, “Tell me you don’t love me.”
My breath caught in my chest, my eyes holding his. Tears flooded my vision as I gripped the gold leaf tighter in my hand. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, but I could only focus on one. I couldn’t give him the truth he wanted to hear. It didn’t exist.
“Ti amo, Nathaniel,” I whispered, my hand going to my chest. I made sure to look in his eyes, so he could see the truth I was about to spill. “But I wish you’d pulled the trigger.”
*
The pain was almost instant, just like it had been when my mother left. The second Nate was far enough away, the tension of the elastic band that held us together snapped, and I’d felt the searing ache like a thousand stab wounds to my heart.
I watched Tiny come back down the stairs, food in one hand, envelope in the other. He didn’t speak a word as he set them both down on the table.
I looked back down at the floor. “Is he okay?” I asked, my voice hoarse from all the tears the guilt had forced out of me.
“Everything you need to know is in there,” he said, and I glanced up at him. He was already watching me, his head tilted to the side. Then he sighed, walked over and sat next to me on the edge of the bed, nudging my side as soon as he was settled. “Can we talk?”
I focused on the gold leaf in my hand. “Of course.”
Tiny leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he rubbed his jaw. “I’m not going to lie to you, Bailey. And please don’t take this the wrong way because I have nothing against you personally, but I support you being here only because I support Nate… as a boss, as a person, and as my best friend. When you asked me to find your mom, a part of me was hopeful I’d find something that might help the situation… that might help get you out of here, and help Nate separate himself from you. You have to be fuckin’ blind to not see how much he loves you, and I’m not saying that you don’t love him because you probably do, but it’s not healthy. Not for either of you.” He took a breath, and then a moment to formulate his next words. “But in this situation, my loyalty doesn’t lie with you. It lies with him. It will always lie with him. Nothing good can come of this. You have to be able to see that. Nate’s life may be his job, for now, but it won’t be forever. He’ll want a family. He’ll want kids. And there’s no way that can happen. Not with you. Not like this.” He cleared his throat as he stood up and turned away from me. “If you ask him to, he’ll risk his life to let you go because he loves you that fuckin’ much. But if he lets you go, Bailey, you’ll take his heart with you.”
37
Bailey
It didn’t matter how long I’d stared at the pages upon pages of information, how many times I read the lines now blurred by my fatigue. It didn’t matter how many tears I’d cried or murmurs of denials I’d whispered into the dead air… I’d wanted the truth, and I’d gotten it.
And now I wished I hadn’t.
I rubbed my eyes and wiped my nose, sitting up straighter when I heard the basement door open. I’d listened to the sounds of footsteps so many times that I could tell it was Nate. He appeared at the bottom of the stairs with our standard breakfasts in his hands.
Was it morning already?
I looked down at the papers spread out on the table, my heart growing heavier with each picture, each piece of evidence, and I held back on another set of cries.
“You’ve been up all night?” Nate asked, his voice soft.
I glanced up at him, a breath leaving me when I saw the dark circles surrounding his eyes and the mess of hair sticking up, no doubt from him tugging at it. He looked as bad as I felt and I was positive he hadn’t slept a wink either. “I guess I must have,” I whispered.