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"I don't understand," I speak slowly, frowning in confusion.

"This," she points at the arrow head and the three, "is a heart. Carved on a heart," she giggles.

"You're not mad?" I ask, just to be sure. "I thought you'd like it." I put on a smile again, hoping to charm her.

"It's rather unusual," she replies, pursing her lips. "But I do like it," she notes, and I finally sigh in relief.

"Good, good. I thought you'd have wanted me to give you my own heart, but that would have been a little harder," I say and her eyebrows knit together in consternation, "not impossible," I amend, "just harder."

"You would have given meyourheart?" she asks, blinking as if surprised.

"Of course. I can still do it, just not immediately. I asked Maxim to book me in for a transplant consultation, and after that you can have it." My lips pull up in a grin.

"Why?" her question throws me off.

"Why?Why? To make you see I am not playing any games," I take a deep breath, "I'm really trying," I confess.

"Where did you get a heart, though?" She changes the subject, not really acknowledging my statement.

"It wasn't an innocent person, I swear," I'm quick to defend myself, "it was a known pedophile, and I just got to him before the police," I say, quickly removing my new phone from my pocket and showing her his name on the FBI list.

"I see," she replies thoughtfully. "Is it clean?"

"Clean?" I repeat, confused. But then it dawns on me what she means. "Yes, it's very clean," I answer with a smile.

"Then come on, lover boy. I am famished and you caught breakfast. You should cook it." She winks at me, taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen.

Fuck, she's touching me! It worked!

I end up grilling the heart well while Sisi makes a sauce to go with it, and in no time we're both at the table, trying out the food. I also open a bottle of red wine on the side.

"You know," she starts, her mouth full, "I never thought I'd say this, but a pedophile's heart doesn't taste half bad," she comments, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Indeed." Is all I can say as I watch her give me a smile for the first time in forever. And just like that, I feel my own heart do some weird somersault in my chest.

"I'm sorry," I tell her sincerely, taking advantage of the one time she's not mad at me.

She frowns, placing her fork down to focus her attention on me.

"I never told you, but I'm sorry for what I did to you." I swallow, the images of that night still haunting me. "And for what I said. I want you to know I never meant any of it, I just needed you as far away from me."

"Why?" She regards me solemnly, her head tilted to the side.

"I didn't want to hurt you more than I already did. I…" I trail off, words failing me. Not that I've ever been great with them, as Sisi can attest.

"Why now? Why are you doing this now, Vlad? We had a clean break.Three monthsI didn't hear from you, and now you're suddenly here, in front of me, telling me that you're sorry?"

"I wasn't going to come into your life ever again, Sisi. I really thought that was it." My fists clench under the table, and I try my best to stay in control.

"Then what changed?" She frowns.

"I did." Her mouth parts slightly. "I realized that I couldn't do it. I couldn'texistwithout you. So I tried to get better. Iambetter."

"I don't understand," she replies, and I see this as my chance before she withdraws within herself again.

Pushing back my chair, I unbutton my shirt, taking it off and discarding it on the floor. Coming to her side, I take her hand and place it on my chest, right at the sharp angle of the triangle.

"This isn't just a triangle, Sisi," I tell her, using her own hands to trace its true shape. "It's an A."