Chapter 13 - The Night I Walked Away
Roman took the phone from me.
“What do you want?”
Vincent laughed through the speaker.
“Everything changed because of the baker.”
Roman’s eyes found mine.
“Leave her out of this.”
“She was never out.”
“What do you want?”
“A meeting.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard the offer.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know who was driving the second car when Elena died.”
The room went silent.
Roman stopped breathing.
Daniel gestured for him to keep Vincent talking.
“Where?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
“Where?”
“I’ll call.”
The line disconnected.
Roman handed Daniel the phone.
Then turned to me.
“You’re leaving Chicago.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“Not negotiation.”
“Then you can have the conversation by yourself.”
“Clare—”
“No.”
He grabbed his jacket.
“I’ll arrange—”
“Roman.”
Something in my tone stopped him.
“I love that you want people safe.”
His eyes changed at the word love, though I hadn’t meant it as a declaration.
“But you still don’t understand the difference between protection and control.”
“This man has your number.”
“He had my address before.”
“That doesn’t make it acceptable.”
“No.”
“Then leave.”
“You leave.”
His brows lowered.
“What?”
“If danger means the person being threatened loses every choice, then you should disappear too.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“I can defend myself.”
“So can I.”
“Against Vincent?”
“With police, security, common sense and all the things we agreed to use.”
“It isn’t enough.”
“You don’t get to decide that alone.”
His voice rose.
“I absolutely do when your life is involved.”
The room went silent.
That was it.
The old Roman.
Walls.
Orders.
Fear disguised as love.
I picked up my purse.
His face changed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“No.”
I laughed once.
“You did it again.”
“Clare.”
“Don’t follow me.”
“I can’t allow—”
“Allow?”
He stopped.
Too late.
Daniel looked away.
Sophia closed her eyes.
Lily stared at her uncle with disappointment.
I walked out.
Federal agents escorted me home.
Roman didn’t follow.
At least he learned something.
For two days we didn’t speak.
I reopened Honey & Rye under police protection.
I kneaded dough.
Frosted cakes.
Served customers.
Pretended my heart didn’t feel like someone had tied it into a knot.
On the second afternoon Lily walked in.
With Sophia.
No Roman.
She sat at the window table.
I brought honey brioche.
“You’re mad at him,” she said.
“Yes.”
“He’s miserable.”
“Good.”
Lily smiled.
“Can I work?”
I gave her an apron.
We spent three hours baking.
At closing, Lily said, “He thinks everyone leaves.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“My grandfather did.”
“Roman’s father?”
“Not physically.”
I listened.
“Mom said Grandpa only loved Roman when Roman was useful.”
My chest tightened.
“Roman thinks if he controls everything, nobody can disappear.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know.”
Lily looked at me.
“But maybe tell him why you left.”
“He knows.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He thinks you left because you found out what he did years ago.”
I stared.
“He thinks I’m disgusted by him?”
“He won’t say that.”
“Of course he won’t.”
“He said you finally saw him clearly.”
I closed my eyes.
Idiot.
Complicated, damaged, infuriating idiot.
“Where is he?”
“Home.”
I drove there.
Security let me through immediately.
Roman was in his study.
He stood when I entered.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“To clarify something.”
His expression closed.
“I understand.”
“No, apparently you don’t.”
He frowned.
“I didn’t leave because of your past.”
Silence.
“I’m not saying it doesn’t matter. It matters. A lot.”
Roman looked down.
“But I left because you tried to order me out of my own life.”
His eyes lifted.
“That was the reason?”
“That was enough.”
Roman stared.
Then sat.
“You thought I left because I finally understood what kind of man you were.”
“Yes.”
“You’re incredibly dramatic.”
His head snapped up.
I almost smiled.
“Roman, I already knew you were dangerous.”
“That isn’t amusing.”
“A little.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know how to do this differently.”
“Learn.”
He was quiet.
Then: “I’m scared.”
The confession was barely audible.
I had never heard him say those words.
“I know.”
“He called you.”
“Yes.”
“If something happened—”
“You would survive it.”
His face twisted.
“That isn’t comforting.”
“It isn’t supposed to be. Loving people means accepting you cannot control every outcome.”
He stared at me.
“Loving?”
There was no escape now.
I exhaled.
“Yes.”
His expression broke open.
I continued quickly.
“But if you ever use that as an excuse to control me again, I will bury you under enough flour to become a historical landmark.”
Roman laughed.
A real laugh.
Then he crossed the room.
Stopped in front of me.
“May I kiss you?”
Progress.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
This one wasn’t brief.
When we separated, his forehead rested against mine.
“I love you too.”
The words were quiet.
Certain.
Then his phone rang.
Daniel.
Vincent had called.
The meeting location had been set.
May you like
North Harbor.
And Vincent had demanded Roman come alone.
