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“No.” Horrified, I touch her arm, gently turning her to look at me.

“That is, yes, it’s awful to hear that something that fucking diabolical exists, let alone that you were forced to spend so long in it.

But I want to hear it, Abby. I want to know every last detail of what happened to you.

Back in the years before we met, and every day since I last saw you.

There isn’t anything you can say that I don’t want to hear, Skip. Not one fucking word.”

Abby swallows, her eyes wide as she looks at me. “There is something else,” she says slowly. “Something I probably should have said right at the start.”

My heart thuds dully, and I force myself to keep smiling. “Like I said, Skip. Keep it coming.”

Fucking masochist, Dimitry .

I know what she hasn’t said. The one topic she’s carefully avoided right from the start: the fact that she wasn’t ever planning on coming back.

And no, I don’t want to fucking hear it.

At the same time, I know this isn’t the time or place to reinstate my old habit of selective fucking hearing either.

So I smile my dumb ass off and touch her hand. “Just spit it out, Skip. Whatever is on your mind, I’m here for it, as the kids would say.”

But for once, my smile goes unanswered. Abby’s eyes are deep hollows, full of something I can’t quite read.

“I thought that going home might help me sort out what kind of life I wanted,” she says quietly. “I thought that maybe I’d run away before I ever really gave that life a chance. That if I just tried normalcy on for size for a while, that I might find it fit, after all.”

And did it?

I want to scream the question, but I settle for swallowing the fucking wine and wishing like hell it was vodka.

“I knew from almost the first day that it would never fit.” She gives a quiet laugh. “I love my hometown, believe it or not. I love the landscape and the beauty. The isolation. And I love my parents, as boring as they might seem.” She glances sideways at me.

“Oh,” I say lightly, “not so boring. Your mum has got a temper not at all unlike yours, and your father is a tough old bastard, I’ll give him that.”

Abby gives a gurgle of laughter. “You met my mother? Oh my goodness. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

I lift my glass in her direction. “You first, Skip.”

Her smile fades, and she twists the glass stem uneasily between her hands.

“From the moment I left that Madrid apartment,” she says finally, “all I wanted to do was come back. At first, I was determined to give it a try, back in Australia, even though you were all I could think about. Then, as time went on, I told myself that staying away was the best thing to do, for us both. As soon as I heard that Juan Cardenas was dead, I knew it was only a matter of time before trouble came for me. I was terrified that when it did, you would be caught up in the fallout. And not just you. Roman, Darya, the children...” She shakes her head slowly.

“I couldn’t be the reason all of that was endangered.

Maybe Rodrigo could have been managed, but I knew that if he found me, then so would this other man.

“And I know this man, Dimitry. I know what he’d do if he ever got close to an organization like Roman’s.

He’d find a way to use it. To turn it to his own benefit.

And he wouldn’t care who he killed to make that happen.

” She stares at me, her expression gaunt.

“That hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s more likely than ever. ”

I cover her hand with my own. “I heard you on that the first time, Skip,” I say gently. “But that isn’t what you started to say.”

“Ha.” Abby gives a humorless laugh. “You always could do that. Read me like a children’s book, no matter how hard I try to hide.

” She draws a deep breath. “What I was going to say is that the day the Banderos came for me was the last day of the three months I’d asked you for.

I’d been watching the fucking clock tick down the hours, agonizing over what to say.

I knew I should lie, tell you I was happy, had decided to stay in Australia.

But no matter how many times I picked up the phone to type out the message, I couldn’t make myself do it.

I literally couldn’t write the words, any more than I could think of what to tell Darya.

And then, suddenly, the car was upside down, and the entire world seemed to just. .. stop.”

This time when she looks at me, her eyes are glittering with a hard, fierce light.

“I was in the middle of the air,” she says slowly, “fucking sure I was going to die, and I suddenly knew, without even the faintest shadow of doubt, that all I wanted was to be with you again. If I could have typed a message right there and then, I would have told you to come and get me, and to hell with the consequences. Not because I wanted you to come and save me. Not because I was afraid, or wanted your protection, or anything of the kind. But because in the moment when I was certain my life was over, all I knew was that I wanted to spend it with you. And that I’d left it too fucking late to tell you. ”

Her head drops. I’m too stunned to move, let alone speak.

“I’ve regretted that decision every day since.

” Abby’s voice is barely a whisper. “Every single day I woke up in that god-awful place, all I could think of was how much I love you and how much I desperately wished I hadn’t wasted all that time not telling you.

I promised myself that if I ever got out of there, I’d tell you how I felt, even if it placed you in danger.

“You said you wanted me to know that whatever choices we make from this moment on belong to you and me, and nobody else. I want to make sure that you know I choose you, Dimitry. And I’m done running from that decision, no matter how much I might want to keep you safe.

“I don’t have the right to make decisions for you. So now I’m handing you back your right to choose.”

She takes a deep breath. “I love you, Dimitry,” she says quietly. “I love you with my entire heart, and I always will. That means I want you as far away from my mess as possible. But that isn’t my choice to make—it’s yours.”

My hand still rests on hers. For a long moment after she finishes speaking, the only sound is the whirr of night insects and the gentle movement of water against the mangroves.

I turn Abby’s hand over. The moon shines on the pale skin of her wrist. I raise it and press my lips there, feeling the rapid, nervous race of her heart beneath the surface.

“Then I guess we’re in this together, Skip. ”

Abby gives a choked laugh, her fingers twining through mine. “You might live to regret that.” She glances sideways at me, turning her hand over in mine restlessly. “If we live at all.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I lean across the table and kiss her, slowly and sweetly, our hands still joined between us.

It isn’t the raw, urgent need that woke us both this afternoon, though I know that need will burst into flame soon enough.

But even as I stand and pull her against me, I know this kiss is a lot more than the silent passion that has always held us together.

It’s a choice.

I just hope it’s one we live long enough to enjoy.