Page 91 of My Best Friend Is Broken

But yes. Despite everything, yes.

“I am,” I tell him honestly. “It’s not perfect, and I’m not magically healed or anything. But I’m happy. Happier than I ever thought I could be again.”

Molly’s smile is soft, genuine. “Good. You deserve that. You both do.”

We settle into comfortable conversation, the wine loosening tongues and easing the last bits of awkwardness. I learn that Molly is my age, twenty-three, and that he grew up in foster care, bouncing between homes until he aged out of the system. That he worked as a sex worker before Dario. Molly doesn’t say it with words, but I also learn more about how he’s dealt with his own trauma and violence and the particular challenges of being someone soft in a hard world.

We’re different in so many ways. Molly is loud where I’m quiet, flamboyant where I’m reserved, confident in ways I’m still learning to be. But we have important things in common. We’re the same age, we’re both in love with dangerous men who would burn the world to keep us safe, and we both understand what it means to survive things that should have destroyed us.

“I liked you before I met you, you know,” I admit after my third glass of wine has made me brave and honest.

“Oh?”

“I liked anyone who had the sense to be friends with Nicky. He doesn’t let many people in, doesn’t trust easily. So anyone he cares about must be special.”

Molly’s eyes go a bit misty. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It’s true. But now...” I gesture between us with my wineglass, “now it seems like you’re my friend too. Andthat makes me feel all warm and glowy and very hopeful for the future.”

“Definitely the wine talking,” Molly laughs, but his expression is fond. “But I feel the same way. I didn’t expect to make a friend out of this mess, but I’m really glad I did.”

We clink glasses again, sealing some unspoken pact. Whatever happens next, with the Russians, with the danger that brought us together, we’ll face it as friends. As people who understand each other in ways that go beyond surface similarities.

By the time Nicky texts that he’s on his way home, Molly and I are sprawled on the sofa like we’ve known each other for years rather than hours, debating whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie (it is, obviously) and whether pineapple belongs on pizza (absolutely not, according to Molly’s passionate argument).

My phone buzzes with another message:Everything okay?

I smile and type back.Better than okay. We’re having wine and arguing about movies. Molly is great.

The response is almost immediate.Told you that you’d like him. See you in ten minutes. Love you.

Love you too,I send back, not even thinking twice about it.

When I look up, Molly is watching me with a knowing smile. “He’s checking on you.”

“Yeah. He worries.”

“So does Dario. I get about fifteen texts a day asking if I’m okay, if I need anything, if I’m safe.” He rolls his eyes affectionately. “It’s exhausting and adorable in equal measure.”

“That’s exactly it,” I agree, laughing.

The sound of keys in the lock announces Nicky’s return, and I feel my heart do that stupid fluttery thing it does whenever he comes home. Like my body needs to confirm he’s real and safe and still choosing to be here with me.

He appears in the living room doorway, taking in the scene of me and Molly curled up on the sofa with wine glasses, clearly having had a good afternoon, both of us flushed and happy.

“I see you two are getting along,” he says, and the relief in his voice is palpable.

“Brilliantly,” Molly confirms. “Liam is wonderful. You’re very lucky, Nicolo.”

“I know,” Nicky says, his eyes finding mine across the room.

And looking at him standing there, looking at Molly sitting beside me like we’ve been friends forever, I think about how much has changed in such a short time. How I’ve gone from being completely alone to having not just Nicky but expanding circles of connection. Dr. Torrino and now Molly. Even Carlo and the terrifying Dante.

How I’m building a life that includes joy and friendship and the kind of ordinary happiness I thought prison had stolen forever.

Yes, there’s danger. Yes, the Russians are out there somewhere, planning things we can’t predict. Yes, the future is uncertain and scary and full of potential threats.

But right now, in this moment, I’m safe and happy and surrounded by people who care about me.