If only he could pick up the phone and call Joe like he used to when he was stationed in some hellhole on the other side of the world. Unfortunately there was no cellphone service where his father was now. Jack or Tino would do their best to advise him, but they all three knew it wasn’t the same as talking to their father. They’d all been seen as damaged goods when they’d first arrived on Joe’s doorstep. He had rejected the labels society had put on them and helped mold three teenage boys with bad attitudes into the men they were today. God knows where they would have ended up without him pushing them to excel.
Mikhail dragged his thoughts back to the present, where a quick check of the time made him want to curse. He didn’t have long before he had to be at work. He eased away from Amy and got out of the bed, trying not to disturb her.
Despite his best efforts, she stirred and blinked up at him. “Misha?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you, but I have to get ready for work.”
He stepped closer and brushed her hair back from her face. “You had a long night. Go back to sleep. I’ll let Panda out and feed him before I leave.”
Amy pushed herself up into a sitting position, her legs drawn up, and her arms folded on her knees to support her chin. “Before you go, we need to talk—or at least I do.”
His heart did a stutter step. “Okay.”
Even in the dimly lit room he could feel the intensity of her gaze as she watched him with those pretty, dark eyes. “Last night was…amazing. A gift, really, and I’ll cherish what we shared forever.”
The best he could do was nod.
“But, Misha, it can’t happen again. As great as it was…as special as you are, I need someone who’ll let me live, and you need someone who’ll play it safe. Those two things aren’t exactly compatible.”
He knew a goodbye when he heard it, but he hadn’t realized it would feel like a knife in his heart. That didn’t mean she was wrong. All that was left to do was man up and make this easier on one of them.
“Thank you for, well, for everything you’ve shared with me, Amy.” He knelt on the bed to give her one last kiss, which tasted both sweet and sorrowful, before starting for the door. At the last second he turned back one last time. “If somehow, someway, I can get my head straightened out, we’ll talk again. You know, about us. I promise.”
In the dimly lit room, he couldn’t be sure if she actually nodded or if that was wishful thinking on his part. Gathering up his clothes along the way, he headed for the kitchen and let the dogs out. He got dressed while he waited for them to take care of business. Locking up on his way out, he left to get ready for work.
Forty-five minutes later, he pulled out of his driveway, wishing like hell he wasn’t leaving something precious behind.
—
Amy woke up again two hours later, alone and hurting, her eyes burning from crying herself back to sleep. She regretted the need to redraw the line between her and Mikhail, but it had been the right thing to do, not just for her sake, but his as well. That knowledge hurt every bit as much as she’d expected it to, but she refused to regret what they’d shared last night.
As she went through her morning routine, she considered what he’d said about the need to get his head straightened out. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed to do that, and right at the top of her to-do list was mending some fences with her family, not something that could be accomplished over the phone. No, they all needed to sit down and discuss a few things. Maybe draw a few lines there, too. It wouldn’t be fun, but it would be the adult thing to do. But when? All things considered, sooner was better than later. She wasn’t ready to watch Mikhail going about his daily life, especially when her role in it had changed so drastically.
So, for both their sakes, she’d leave for a few days and give both of them a badly needed breather. She checked the weather—sunny and warm, perfect for a long motorcycle ride. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take Panda with her if she did that.
Besides, showing up on her bike might not be the best way to start off a discussion with her folks. She sent her mother a text to expect a visit later in the day. Her phone pinged with a response within seconds. To her surprise, the message was from Mikhail.I hope you’re okay. I hated having to leave so early even if it was for the best. Ricky will check in on Sarge for me today, so don’t worry about him. Or me.
She stared at the words. Darn him, anyway. It was just like him to worry more about her and his dog than he did himself. Then the phone pinged again signaling a second message, which simply said,I won’t forget my promise.
She stared at the screen. Like she had already told him, hope was a tricky thing. Could either of them move on if they clung to the possibility that he might find a way to accept her determination to live a normal life? She had to say something, to let him know she’d gotten his message. She kept it simple.Stay safe.
There was so much she wanted to say, things that couldn’t be put in a text message or left on his voicemail. As a compromise, before she left, she’d stick a note in his mailbox. For now, she needed to get moving.
It took her ten minutes to put Panda’s crate in her car and another ten to gather up his toys and food. She dithered for twenty minutes deciding which clothes to pack and collecting her toiletries. Finally, she wasted another hour on a dozen failed attempts to compose a message for Mikhail before she came up with something remotely satisfactory.
She studied the note one last time, still not sure what else she could say beyond repeating that last night had been amazing and how much it meant to her that he’d been so honest with her about…well, everything. She’d also made it clear that she hoped they could figure out how to still be friends when she got back from visiting her family.
Although friendship seemed unlikely. How could they go back to the way things had been before they’d foolishly erased that all-important line in the sand?
After signing her name, it took her three tries to stick the note in the envelope. The fact that her hands were shaking probably had something to do with that or maybe it was the sheen of tears that made it hard to see clearly.
There was nothing more to be done now. She shoved it in his mailbox, got in her car, and headed down the road to face off against her family.
—
Mikhail dragged himself home, depressed and tired, but not sleepy. For once he’d gotten a full eight hours of sleep at the firehouse. Going twenty-four hours without having to respond to a bad car wreck or a house fire was a rarity. Normally a quiet shift was something to be grateful for, and he was. Sort of, anyway. He didn’t want to wish anyone ill, but he would have preferred to have been busy. The quiet had left him with far too many hours to think.
As a result, Amy had never been far from his mind.
