Page 47 of Thin Lives

Emma blinked up at him, realizing that in one single statement, he had summed up everything that was wrong with her without even properly understanding why. Even being lost like he was, Calisto still knew her. He was still in there somewhere.

“Are you torn?” he asked softly. “About me?”

She stayed quiet.

Calisto wasn’t looking for that. “Just answer me. I’m missing something. I’ve been missing something since I woke up from that coma. I only want to know what it is.”

“I … I am torn, but I don’t know.”

Emma didn’t know a lot of things, and for that, she was sorry.

“Then how about I help, huh? I’m going to look for it. Whatever it is you’re hiding that you don’t want me to know, I am going to look for it, Emma.”

“Then do what you need to do, Cal, but don’t get killed in the process.”

That was just about the best and only warning Emma could give Calisto. As it was, she had already given him too much.

It was like playing with fire.

And she wouldn’t survive the burns.

Calisto

“Here,” Emma said, shrugging off Calisto’s coat and holding it out.

When he didn’t immediately take the item, she shoved it into his grasp and took another couple of steps further away from him.

“Wait,” he said. “Just wait a second longer.”

“I can’t.”

Calisto stood there under the shadows of the trees with his hand outstretched toward Emma as she walked away from him. He didn’t know why, but a huge piece of him might as well have been screaming at him to go and get her. To keep her with him. To not let her go.

It was more than his lost memories.

It had to be.

Still, Calisto wasn’t a stupid man, and he noticed things. Like Emma’s nervousness, and her comments about Affonso. She was frightened of being seen with him—scared of the trouble it might bring.

He wanted to know why.

But he didn’t ask, she clearly didn’t want him to, and he let her go instead.

Calisto needed the moment with Emma gone from his side to gather his bearings. Some days, like today, it felt as if the world was mocking him. Like the truth was staring him right in his face, waving and flailing around, but he was too fucking blind to see it.

Or maybe his brain just didn’t want to.

He wasn’t sure which one it was.

And he hated that it made him feel weak.

So yeah, he took that moment to think about what Emma had said, and the few things he learned in their short conversation. His tattoo—a permanent memorial forever inked on his skin—was tied to her in a huge way. He still didn’t know what the one date was for, but knowing the one related to Emma was enough for him.

Enough that it made him consider her even more.

Consider things that might not be … acceptable.

Calisto shook his head, needing to get away from those thoughts. Stepping back out on the pathway, he put his suit jacket on, and did up the buttons. Most of the mourners who had attended Father Day’s funeral and then traveled to the graveyard to see the man be buried had gone from the cemetery. Calisto was alone as he walked the pathway down to where all the cars were parked.