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She was silent, feeling frustrated now on top of everything else. She watched a Painted Lady butterfly hover over a late-blooming flower, marveling at how much strength the insects held in their delicate bodies. She released a long sigh. “After all the mixed signals I gave him in the beginning, it was something I promised never to do again. Push and pull. It’s not fair. And yet here I am.”
“Relationships are all about push and pull, give and take. It’s called compromise. It’s what happens when two lives blend into one.”
Angela nodded, knowing Sister Pip was right. “He didn’t know,” she said. She took a deep breath and looked into the other woman’s eyes. “But he also didn’t want to know.”
Sister Pip cocked her head to the side, watching the butterfly flap its orange and black wings. “That is true. That is the way he was raised. Those are the habits he has formed over the years. Do you want to know what I’ve learned from working on the streets all these years?” She continued when Angela nodded silently. “When people know better, they do better. He knows now. He knows to look beyond the surface, to look beyond the immediate benefits. I have no doubt that he’ll do better moving forward. But the real question is, do you think he’ll do better?”
Angela thought about that for a moment before answering. “Roman isn’t stupid. He didn’t get to where he is today by making mistakes. So, yes. I think he will do better. He’s not inherently bad. Nor is he a cruel man. Despite what he thinks.”
“Well, then, there you go. One last question. Do you love him?” When Angela was quiet for too long, Sister Pip pressed. “Is that a hard question?”
Angela shook her head. “No. Not at all. It’s the easiest question I’ve ever had to answer,” she promised. “Yes. I love him very much. But is it enough?”
The nun patted her knee, smiling softly. “Love is always enough,” she vowed. “Go to him.”
Angela wanted to. Badly. But... “And say what?”
“Perhaps you don’t need to say anything. Perhaps it is time to listen.” Sister Pip stood up, taking more time to do so than she had in the past. “And remember, not all listening is done through the ears. The heart, now that is the best listener of all.”
* * *
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you.”
Angela turned to Morrigan, who was skillfully navigating her way through the early afternoon traffic. She had spent another hour at the refuge—not talking but giving Sister Pip’s words a lot of thought. She still wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say to Roman. Or even how she would react when she saw him again. But she did know Roman was likely punishing himself right now. And that she wouldn’t stand for. So, she’d put her big girl panties on and told Morrigan to take her back to Omertà.
To Morrigan’s credit, she hadn’t asked Angela what was going on or what the potential danger was. Morrigan wasn’t a chatty woman at the best of times. Nor a curious one. Qualities Angela was very grateful for at the moment. She smiled a little when she remembered the one way to make that change: alcohol. Morrigan was a whole different person when she was liquored up. It was on Angela’s to-do list to get her new friend plastered again soon. Her amusement was fleeting, though, as she gazed out at the passing cars. Was the Foreman in one of them? Was he behind them? How would she function, knowing he was in her home city?
Before she could spiral again, she forced herself to calm. Then she gave Morrigan her full attention. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Morrigan searched Angela’s face for a moment before looking back to the road. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you.”
Angela had no idea what Morrigan was talking about. “For what?”
“For Roman. For loving him.”
Morrigan’s response floored Angela. So much so that she was struck mute. Which was probably just as well because Morrigan filled in the awkward silence with more rare words.
Morrigan’s jaw was tense, and her eyes were resolutely glued on the road as she spoke. “Roman is a good man with bad things in his past, and in his future—I’m not going to lie about that. But a good man, nonetheless. He always has been, even when he got lost in the dark for a little while, which is easy to do in our world. But he never lost himself completely. He managed to hold onto that something good inside of himself and make it out the other side. He’s a good man,” Morrigan repeated. She finally looked at Angela. “But you’ve made him better. You’ve made him more. So, thank you.”
Angela was silent for a moment. She kind of wanted to cry again but knew that would make Morrigan want to jump out of the moving vehicle. So she sucked the tears back, only speaking when she was positive her voice wouldn’t wobble. “He makes me more, too.”
Morrigan shot her a questioning look. “He does? In what way?”
Angela shrugged, saying simply, “He makes me brave. He makes me strong. He makes me unafraid. Unafraid of the world and of what’s inside of me. Roman makes me free. Free to be whoever and whatever I want to be. I can be myself when I’m with Roman.” Angela paused and looked down at her hands. “Once, I was lost in the dark as well,” she admitted quietly. “I dragged myself out of it, but I think a part of me was still pretending until I met Roman. Pretending to be strong and independent. Pretending to be okay. When really, I was just going through the motions. Because I had nothing better to do. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. You put one foot in front of the other because the other option is to lie down and die. And you’ll be damned if you’re going to do that. You won’t give them the satisfaction,” Morrigan said grimly.
“Exactly,” Angela agreed. She didn’t question how Morrigan knew. No more than Morrigan questioned her. But at that moment, Angela felt another click with the assassin. They had more in common than she’d originally thought. “But it hasn’t been that way for me since I met Roman. Well, since I met Abel, really. He’s the one who kidnapped me. It brought out the feisty Angela.”
“Wow, Abel finally did something right, huh?” Morrigan snarked. But she was smiling.
Angela managed a smile back. “He does a lot of things right.” She quickly frowned. “But also a lot of things wrong. He’s a bit of a worry, to be honest.”
Morrigan snorted. “Yeah, well. That’s Abel. Damaged but adorable.”
Angela was startled into a laugh. And beyond grateful that she could be. “So you see, Roman makes me more, too.”
Morrigan let out a rough breath, slumping in her seat a little. “You two are going to be okay.”
