This is different. This is new.
And I know, with the certainty of someone who’s been paying attention even when he didn’t want to, exactly whose shirt it is.
“Saul?” She blinks at me. “What are you doing here so early?”
I step inside. Close the door behind me.
The apartment smells like coffee. Like eggs, burnt, slightly. Like sex.
Like a morning after.
My chest does something painful.
“The man who just left.” My voice comes out steady. Professional. The voice I use when I’m holding myself together by threads. “Enzo. Dario Marchetti’s enforcer.”
Her face changes. The sleepy softness disappears. Something careful sliding into place.
“Saul.”
“How long?”
“It’s not.”
“How. Long.”
She doesn’t answer. Just stands there in another man’s shirt, looking at me, and I watch her decide how much to tell me.
That’s what breaks something in me.
Not that she’s been doing something. I can handle that. Witnesses make mistakes. They get scared, lonely, desperate. They do stupid things.
But she’s deciding what I get to know.
She’s been lying to me. Not just breaking rules, lying. To me. While I brought her blankets and coffee and baking supplies. While I sat in diners with her and stole her fries and told her she was going to be okay.
“The mug,” I say quietly.
She blinks. “What?”
I look around the apartment, really seeing it now. “The dishes in the sink, two plates, two forks. The way you’ve been different lately. Happier.”
I thought it was the baking. The routine. Me. I thought I was helping her adjust.
“I thought you were doing better,” I say, and I can hear the crack in my own voice. “I thought the blankets and the coffee and the… I thought I was helping.”
“You were helping. You are.”
“Then why.” I stop. Take a breath. “How long has he been coming here?”
“A few weeks.” She wraps her arms around herself. “He was watching me. Protecting me. Dario asked him to.”
“Protecting you.” The word tastes bitter. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Her chin lifts. Something fierce flickering in her expression. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make it sound like that. Like it’s just.” She shakes her head. “It’s not just sex. It’s not some mistake I made. Enzo is…”
