Chapter 9 - MIDNIGHT AGAIN
On the seventh anniversary of Ronan’s knock, Rowan was asleep by eleven.
A miracle.
At 11:58 p.m., someone knocked.
She opened her eyes.
“No.”
Another knock.
She reached automatically toward the drawer beside her bed.
Then stopped.
Different apartment.
Different life.
Still a Glock.
Some habits survived.
She checked the camera.
Ronan.
Standing in the hallway.
Dry.
Uninjured.
Holding a bakery box.
Rowan opened the door.
“What?”
He looked offended.
“That’s your greeting?”
“You have terrible timing.”
“Historic timing.”
She stared.
“Why are you here at midnight?”
“Anniversary.”
“Of being shot?”
“Of trusting you.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then noticed his expression.
Nervous.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Ronan.”
He held up the bakery box.
Inside:
A terrible chocolate cake.
Written in icing:
ONLY PERSON I TRUST
Rowan stared.
“That is emotionally manipulative.”
“Yes.”
“Did you make this?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then Ronan removed a ring.
Rowan closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
“I can leave.”
“No.”
“Really?”
“No, don’t leave.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“I used to think trust meant giving someone enough information that they couldn’t betray me.”
Rowan listened.
“Then I met you.”
“Bleeding.”
“Very.”
“And learned trust might mean telling someone the truth even when it gives them a reason to walk away.”
Her eyes filled.
“Ronan.”
“I cannot promise you that my past will never come through the door.”
“No.”
“I cannot promise you nobody will ever recognize me.”
“No.”
“I cannot erase anything.”
“No.”
“But I can promise I will never again ask you to carry a secret that belongs to me.”
That one mattered.
“Rowan Mercer, will you marry me?”
She looked at the ring.
Then at the man.
“What happens if I say no?”
His expression softened.
“I eat the cake.”
She smiled.
“Correct answer.”
Then:
“Yes.”
Ronan closed his eyes.
Relief.
She took the ring.
Then:
“Separate bank accounts.”
He laughed.
“Obviously.”
“No crime money.”
“Long gone.”
“No armed men at the wedding.”
“That seems discriminatory.”
“Ronan.”
“Fine.”
“No calling anyone ‘the family.’”
He winced.
“Harsh.”
She kissed him.
Midnight passed.
Nothing exploded.
May you like
Progress.
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