“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “That’s why I’ve been gone so long.”
Relief flooded my chest and my heart as I looked up into his dark eyes. “You are?”
“I just finished chemo. Radiation is next.”
“So that’s good.” I smiled. “Right? That means everything will be okay?”
“The prognosis is good so far,” he said hesitantly. “My oncologist is confident that the treatment will work, and he’s happy with the odds. But there’s always a chance it could come back, and if it comes back, it’ll require more aggressive treatment. So I can’t tell you that I’ll be cured forever, Gypsy. I can’t make you any promises, except to say that I’m doing everything I can, and I’ll continue to for as long as I can.”
My throat bobbed as I nodded. That made sense. This wasn’t a sprint; it was a marathon. It would be a lifelong battle to make sure he was healthy, and every time he got even the slightest hint of a cold, terror would wrap its icy hands around my heart. But I didn’t care. He was here now, and he was alive, and I would take every single second that I could get with him, and I would never take them for granted again.
Those were lofty ideals, but I wanted so badly to make sure of it. Because that was what Lucian deserved. He deserved someone who would love him until their heart splintered apart and turned to dust. And nobody on this earth would ever love him more than I did.
“What made you change your mind?” I asked.
He debated his answer carefully before he gave it to me. “When I got my diagnosis, I thought I’d been given an opportunity. After Dawson, there was nothing else I wanted more. I’d been merely existing since he died and little else. I thought this decision would bring me peace. But when you walked out on me, the reality of it hit me. I kept telling myself that you could move on, but the reality was I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you here by yourself or with anyone else. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave you that way.”
“I came back for you,” I told him. “I came back, but you were…” I took a deep breath. “They told me you were dead.”
He held me against him as I composed myself, and when I looked up at him again, I was afraid to ask the next question. “Do you believe me?”
His gaze was cloudy before he refocused on me. “If I told you that I did, would that make me a fool?”
“No,” I whispered.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” he said grimly. “Maybe I am a fool. But I believe you, Gypsy.”
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TOdo?” Father Hawk asked.
My fingers beat a restless rhythm against the worn church pew. “I don’t suppose you’d like to give me your thoughts.”
He bowed his head. “The logical solution I’m supposed to give you is to pray for a resolution.”
“But?” I asked.
His eyes drifted to the confessional. “But I’ve only ever known Gypsy to be honest with me.”
I knew she was honest with him. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I believed her too, and that meant someone else wanted us both dead.
The doors to the church opened, and footsteps echoed down the corridor. Nolan paid his respects by lighting a candle and saying a prayer before he dared to acknowledge me. In all the years we’d been friends, I’d only ever known him to be good. He was my mentor. The man who saved me from myself and set me on the path to righteousness. In my heart, I didn’t believe he was capable of hurting me, and it crushed me that I’d even considered the thought for a second.
He sat down beside me, and Father Hawk took his leave. Neither of us looked at each other. The silence that lingered between us was unfamiliar, and it reminded me of the first time he came to visit me in prison far too many years ago.
“I’m glad to see that you’re alive and well,” he said.
“You knew I was alive and well. Why would you think otherwise?”
He looked at me, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. “You were on death’s door when you left. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“So you decided it was best to let everyone think I was really dead?”
His head dipped forward, a subtle nod of regret. “I believed it was only a matter of time. I wanted to honor your wishes, and I knew if anyone realized you were still alive, they would try to find you and change your mind.”
The explanation was a plausible one. I hadn’t told Nolan I was going to get treatment. I hadn’t told him anything other than the fact I was leaving.
“If I’d known you wanted me to act differently, I would have,” he explained. “But you left in such a hurry, I wasn’t certain what I was supposed to do. We hadn’t planned for that.”
I studied him. “I don’t suppose you’d have any idea who was trying to kill me and my wife then?”