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She slips her hand from mine, steps back, and puts distance between us. “I can’t just…pretend everything’s fine when it’s not. Jenna’s out there somewhere scared and alone, and I don’t know if I can survive this life, Marco. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for what loving you requires.”

My hands instinctively lift toward her, but I force them back down. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“That’s not true.” Her voice cracks. “I had a panic attack today in a supply closet at the hospital, surrounded by gauze and bedpans. All because a patient said the word ‘precious’ and my memory flew back to that room with Tomas’s gun at my head. I can’t escape any of it.”

The confession steals the air from my lungs.

“I can’t handle this.” Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m a doctor. I heal people. And because of that, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around your world.”

She gestures at me, and then at Nonna’s ruby on her finger.

“Every time you leave, I wait. Every time you come back bloody, I wonder if you’ll come back at all. Every time my phone buzzes, I think it’s news of your death. And I love you… I love you so much that it terrifies me, but I don’t know if love is enough.”

I gather her into an embrace. Her body goes rigid, and then she collapses into my arms, sobbing with what feels like an ancient grief that’s been compounding for years.

“I’m sorry.” I cling to her, press my face to her hair, and breathe her in. “I’m sorry for every moment of fear, for every night you’ve spent waiting, and for every phone call that stopped your heart.”

We stand like this for a long time. The garage is empty around us, the city thrumming in the distance. At some point, she stops crying and steps back, and though her face is blotchy, her red-rimmed eyes remain steady.

“I need you to hear me.” She speaks through her tears, enunciating each word with deliberate care. “I’m not saying no. I’m not leaving. But I need you to understand that this is hard for me. With the fear and the threat of death…I’ve lost control of my own life. If we’re going to do this…really do this…then I need you to trust me and not decide things for me.”

“I can do that.”

“Can you?” She meets my eyes. “Because I saw the way you looked at me when you came out of that warehouse covered in blood. You wanted to lock me away someplace safe where no one could touch me. And I get it… I do. But to me, that’s captivity dressed up as protection.”

“I’ll try.” I frame her jaw with one hand, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “I’ll try to be better and to trust you. You can make your own choices and take your own risks. However, I won’t stop protecting you. It’s not in me.”

“I’m not asking you to.” She closes her eyes and leans into my touch. “I’m asking you to do this protecting thing with me, not hide details that I should know from me. Keep me beside you, not behind you.”

The night air settles around us, and when she opens her eyes, her gaze stays on mine with a steadiness forged from every horror she’s survived.

“Then don’t think. Just feel, Lucia.”

“Yes.” The word comes out broken, cracked, squeezed through fault lines. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I don’t have to earn the right to be loved. Even through the danger, and even through all of this, I want to be with you.”

I kiss her with soft desperation, a promise and a plea in one. She kisses me back, her hands pressing against my chest as she grips my jacket with both fists.

For a moment, the garage, the threat, and the trepidation all fade to the sensation of her mouth on mine and the warmth of her body against me.

When we break the kiss, she smiles brightly. “Can we go home now?”

I glance at both our vehicles. As much as I want us together, I know it would be better if we drove both cars home.

“You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

She drives her car, and I follow in mine, almost bumper to bumper as we navigate the street together. A little sense of satisfaction blooms in my belly at our truce and the fact that it means I’m not losing her.

That strengthens my resolve to keep her safe even more. If she’s going to be by my side, she’ll need all the protection she can get.

That night, after she’s asleep in our bed and her breathing is soft and even, I place a call from my desk, assigning two soldiers to watch Lucia whenever she leaves the compound.

I tell myself I’m honoring her request while still doing what needs to be done. She’ll understand eventually.

I almost believe that.

Chapter 23

Lucia