Chapter 107
107
The first thing I did after I walked out of San Vittore was get a cab to the Milan airport.
I bought a ticket to London in cash. My fake credit card had expired a year before, so cash was my only method of payment.
Then I went into a gift shop to buy a charging cord for my burner phone. After three and a half years in storage, it was beyond dead.
While I waited for the flight, I charged my phone and ate a meal in a restaurant. Much better than the shit from the prison cafeteria – but not quite as good as the food Dario had fixed in our prison cell. I realized at that moment just how charmed my life had been since I’d met him.
Within another hour, I was airborne.
I nervously tried to figure out the first thing I would say when I saw her.
Sorry I’m late…
You won’t believe what happened…
Traffic was awful…
No matter what I imagined, though, it ended with her flinging herself into my arms and kissing me passionately.
Once I landed at Heathrow, I took a taxi to 19 Coates Avenue, a two-story house with a lawn out front, nestled amongst a lot of trees. Similar houses lined the street.
It wasn’t that dissimilar from the fantasy I’d always had of me and Rachel with our daughter playing out back in the garden.
My heart thudded against my ribs as I walked up the driveway to the front door.
My right hand was in my pocket with the ring between my fingers. I held onto it like a drowning man holds onto a life preserver.
I told myself that there was a good chance she wasn’t even home.
It was 6 o’clock in the evening – she could still be at work or out to dinner with friends.
She could be on a mission in a foreign country.
Hell, this might not even be her house. She could have sold it, or rented it, or –
I forced all that out of my head and slowly walked up the front steps.
My heart was beating so fast I thought I might have a heart attack.
I actually felt more afraid than during firefights in Afghanistan.
This is it –
Here we go –
I pressed the doorbell and heard a chime inside the house.
I waited, forcing myself to breathe.
No answer.
After 30 seconds, I pushed the doorbell again. Heard the chime again.
Waited.
Nothing.
Fuck – she’s not home –
She probably doesn’t even LIVE here!
I turned to go –
Which is when I heard the door open behind me.
I turned back, hope and joy and expectation in my heart –
And all of it died the second I saw her face.
She looked at me like she was stricken – like she was staring at the dead body of a loved one in the morgue. The blood and color had all drained from her face like she’d just had the worst shock of her life.
Other than that, though, she was as beautiful as before. She wore a blouse and skirt suitable for an office. The only thing that had really changed was her hair was shorter, but otherwise it was like no time had passed.
We stood like that in shocked silence for a long, long moment.
“Rachel,” I finally said, my voice a raspy croak.
“What are you doing here?!” she hissed in a low voice, like she was afraid someone might overhear us.
I frowned. “I came to – ”
And then a glint of light caught my eye.
It was from her hand, which was still gripping the doorknob.
A ring.
A diamond ring.
I froze as I stared at it –
And I felt like I might vomit.
She realized what I was looking at, and hurriedly put her hand behind her.
“What do you want?!” she hissed again.
I looked up into her eyes.
No trace of love or warmth –
Just pain.
And grief.
“…you’re engaged?” I asked, completely stunned.
“Not that it’s any business of yours,” she said angrily, “…but yes p>
“Do I know hi– ”
“Where have you BEEN?!” she hissed again, and her whole body began to tremble.
“I was in prison. In Milan. I tried to find you – I had Gunnar looking for you for the last three and a half years, but your phone number had changed. So had your email address, and I didn’t where you lived p>
By now her eyes were full of tears. A single teardrop spilled down her cheek.
The sight of it was too much to bear.
“Rachel – ” I said as I moved towards her –
“STOP!” she cried out and backed away from me.
I froze in my tracks.
“If Gunnar couldn’t find me, then how did you find this house?” she snapped.
“I made a friend in prison. He has… connections on the outside. I told him about your mother and how she met your father, so my friend sent people to Pescara to ask around. They found some women who remembered your mother. Once we had her name, Gunnar was finally able to find you p>
“And it took you three and a half years to do that?” she asked accusingly.
I felt sick. I could have found her years ago if I’d agreed when Dario first offered his help.
“That was my fault. I didn’t trust my friend at first. But I found you – that’s the important thing p>
“You said you were in prison. Did they arrest you when you went on that mission?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Yes p>
“And what did you do? Why did they put you in jail p>
“They found me with guns. Unregistered guns that didn’t belong to me. Italy’s really strict about that, so p>
I trailed off lamely.
“What were you doing on that mission?” she demanded.
“It doesn’t matter p>
“It matters to me,” she snapped. “Who were you working for p>
I remembered Alistair’s warning:
No one can know what you do.
No one.
Not even Rachel.
If I revealed the truth, it could cost her her job.
And she’d already lost so much…
Like our future together.
“…I can’t tell you that,” I said quietly.
She just nodded angrily, like, FIGURES.
Then she looked away as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You need to go p>
“Rachel… please p>
Her eyes snapped over to mine and she hissed with rage, “I said you need to GO. NOW p>
“Rachel, it’s been three and a half years – ”
“That’s right – three and a half years I thought you were DEAD or you LEFT me p>
“There was nothing I could do!” I shouted.
“Well, there’s nothing I can do now p>
“Rachel, we have to talk – ”
“No, we don’t p>
“Who are you marrying p>
She glared at me. “No one you know. I met him after you left p>
“Rachel, please – ”
“While you were gone, I moved on. You should, too,” she said, then backed away and slammed the door in my face.
I stood there in complete shock.
I thought about pounding on her door – about screaming for her –
But I remembered the diamond ring on her finger.
While you were gone, I moved on. You should, too.
I eventually turned away from her house…
Walked down the drive…
And left, never to return.