The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,75

be forever. I want you to be prepared for a day when they're not."

He wasn't saying the words, but he was still getting them across.

My sister and her counterparts had to pay for what they had done. And what they had done was make a fool of the mafia. And that could not stand.

The mafia didn't do slaps on the wrist. They didn't do stern talks. They didn't do second chances.

You screwed them over. Then you paid with your life.

"I don't know if I could stand knowing you were about to go and kill my sister," I admitted. "Even knowing what she turned into. All I would picture in my head would be her walking down the street in flannel mermaid pajamas while we fled from our abusive father."

"You are more comfortable not knowing anything from here on?"

"I think that might be best."

In general, I wasn't a head in the sand kind of person. I thought information was power. I thought it was foolish to avoid the truth when it was right there for you to grab hold of, take in.

But just this once?

"Just this once, I think I would rather imagine her finding God and repenting for her sins," I told him, even if that was naive, even if that made me weak.

"Okay," he agreed, nodding.

"Okay? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he told me. "Look, sweetheart, I think this is time for a two-birds, one-stone conversation."

"A... okay," I said, confused.

"We..." he trailed off as the food showed up, got spread out in front of us. "We need to talk about two separate, but entwined things."

"Alright," I said, not sure where he was going with this.

"I don't know where your head is at right now. I don't know if you are even thinking about things like this with everything else going on. But I haven't been able to think about much else."

"What have you been thinking about?" I asked, belly tightening, worried this was the kiss of death conversation, him telling me it was time to get back to California, back to my old life. And all the wining and dining was just to soften the blow.

"Us," he said, half-confirming my fears. "And the future. Namely, that I want one. With you."

Oh.

Well then.

I was an idiot.

"Really?" I asked, trying not to sound desperate, to sound needy.

"Really," he said, nodding for emphasis.

"Are you sure you've thought about this enough?" I pressed. "You want me. In a future kind of way."

"I want you," he confirmed. "In a hopefully forever kind of way."

"Even after seeing me turn into a bed troll? Because I can't guarantee that won't happen again. With the straight up hair and everything."

"If the bed troll wasn't completely devastated, she would actually have been cute. Straight up hair and all."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Romy. I haven't been this sure about something in awhile. I know this comes with complications. Your job, your apartment, your life that is clear across the country."

"I was let go," I admitted. "The call came in the day before yesterday. I never called to tell them I needed more time. They let me go. And I am probably about three weeks away from being evicted," I added, realizing what a mess my old life had become while I had inadvertently been building a new one. Dare I say it? A better one.

"Sounds like everything is falling into place then. I can have some guys out there this week to pack you up and get your things here."

"You can't make your men move me."

"Sure I can," he told me smirking. "I can make them do a late-night tampon and chocolate bar run if necessary."

"Oh, can it be Lucky? I asked, brightening to the idea. "And can we throw in something extra embarrassing? Like a 'Complete Idiot's Guide to Sex' if such a thing exists."

"It sounds like you just figured out how Lucky is going to be spending his next birthday," Luca said, grinning.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked a few minutes later, after we finally started eating.

"Of course."

"Why did you look at your father like that before?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you were confused by him? I don't know how else to explain it."

"I was a little," he confessed. "The day of the sit down with Lorenzo, my father took off for a while. I didn't realize it was the anniversary of my mother's death. My mother's murder," he clarified, ripping my heart out for him, for his brother, his father, for the woman whose life was cut