35

35

Isabella's POV

I was behind the wheel of my car in the marina, engine idling, clenching the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles were white. I could see Pier 47 in the distance through the windshield, lit up by the sharp yellow light of security lights. Victor was somewhere out there, waiting for me to pick an option that would dictate the rest of my days.

But as I sat in the dark, I considered that running away wouldn’t address anything. It would be exchanging one set of complications for another. Victor and I would be criminals on the lam forever, never able to settle down or establish anything meaningful. And I’d be leaving not just Aaron, but my father, my family, all of those who depended on the alliances our marriage embodied.

I switched off the motor and sat in the silence, observing a solitary figure walking back and forth on the end of Pier 47. Victor smirked, glancing down at his watch, glancing toward the parking lot, waiting for me to cross the parking lot. Even at this remove, his agitation spread out before me, to feel the slow seep of the understanding that I might not keep my promise.

My heart ached for him. After all that had happened, after all the manipulation and lies and disaster of tonight's meeting, I loved Victor. I’d probably always love him, a part of me. But love alone wasn’t always enough to sustain a life on, especially if that life was a life on the run from responsibility.

I saw Victor’s shoulders sag at 12:35. He lingered on the end of the pier for a few more minutes, before making his way back toward the marina parking lot. I slouched in my seat and hoped he wouldn’t see me, wouldn’t ask me why I was there but didn’t have the will to show up.

I saw his car leave the parking lot and drive away into the night, with my last chance to make the easy choice.

It was a funeral ride home to the Romano estate. I took my time, dreading what was next, but knowing it was something that had to be dealt with. Aaron sat waiting for me, undoubtedly wondering if I were returning at all. And when I walked through that door, I would need to tell him the truth about my heart, my choice, what I could give him and what I could not.

"Isabella?"

‘You're not talking to anyone, are you?” Aaron's voice echoed from his study. Of course he was awake. Of course he was waiting.

"I'm here," I called back.

I went to his house and he was sitting in his leather chair, a glass of whiskey on the side table, looking like a man who’d been expecting bad news. A flicker of relief crossed his face when he saw me, but it disappeared quickly and was replaced by concern.

“You returned,” he said with simple eloquence.

"I came back."
“But you went to the marina first.”

It wasn't a question. Aaron must have had someone keep an eye on me, follow my movements. I ought to have been angry about the surveillance, but really I was too tired for anger.
"Yes, I went to the marina."

"But you told Victor that you won't be leaving.”

"No, I didn’t go with Victor.

Aaron examined my face, attempting to decipher the look on it. "Why not?"
I sat down heavily in the chair in front of his desk. This was going to be a painful conversation for us both, but it had to take place.

"Because running away doesn't solve anything. And because despite everything that has happened, I committed myself when I married you.”

“Commitments you never wanted to commit.”

"I didn't want to make the offal. But I made them, and that’s important.”

Aaron was silent for quite some time, swirling the whiskey in his glass. I have a question for you, Isabella, and I need for you to be brutally honest with me.
"Alright."

"Do you love him? Victor?"

The question I'd been dreading. The truth that would wound Aaron but could not be evaded.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I love him."

Aaron nodded slowly, as if the answer was what he’d feared all along. “And do you suppose … do you imagine, in any wind?”

Another moment of truth. Another opportunity either to lie to him to protect his feelings or be honest and suffer the consequences.
"I don't know," I said. "I can't say for sure that I'll ever love you like I love Victor. But Aaron, I can try to be a good wife to you. I’m not going to fight our marriage anymore, I’ll stop blaming you for something that wasn’t entirely your decision either.”

"A marriage of convenience, then. Is that what you're offering?"

"I'm offering a real partnership. Respect, loyalty, companionship. I can’t be really passionate, I can’t be romantic, but I can be honest and I can be committed.”

"And in return?"

This was the hard part. And what you would have, if you were the Philly prayer guy, made the mistake of asking for..

"I need you to help Victor in exchange for this."

Aaron's expression darkened. "Help him how?"

“He’s in trouble with the syndicates out of the north. They were ruthless – as you said yourself, they’re not the forgiving kind, and they’re humiliated by what happened tonight.”

“Victor got himself in that danger.

"Maybe he did. But Aaron, if something happens to him...if he gets hurt or killed somehow by tonight... I don't know how I could live with that. And I for sure could never be a good wife to you with that laying on me.”

“And you’re asking me to save the man you love.”

“I’m asking you to save your brother.”

"After everything he's done? After his attempt at shutting me down, selling off the family empire to our enemies?”

"Yes. Because come what may, he’s family. And because. …” I inhaled, about to speak the most honest I had ever been. “Because I will fucking do whatever it takes to make this marriage work if you just help him get safely out of the country.”

Aaron placed his glass of whiskey on the table and leaned forward, looking me in the eyes. “You’d exchange your joy for his safety?”

“I’d give up my dreams of romantic love to have a guarantee the man I love is alive and safe.”
“And you believe you could be happy with that setup? A duty-bound kind of marriage instead of one of feeling?”

“I believe I could discover another sort of joy. Not the fairy tale I’d dreamt of, maybe, but something real and good.”

“You know what I’m saying Isabella, it’s not fair to either of us.”

"Fair?" I laughed bitterly. “Aaron, this whole thing has been unfair from the get-go. I was sold in marriage to cement a business deal. You had been hoisted by your own petard with a wife who loathed you for crimes you hadn’t committed. Jealousy and ambition drove Victor to extremity. We each didn’t get what we wanted.”

“So we’re all just supposed to accept a lifetime of compromise?”

“We have to face the fact and do the best we can.”

Aaron was silent for a while, and clearly I could feel him weighing my offer. On one level I was giving him everything he’d married me for – a solid partnership, the public front, a wife who’d do what she was bid and not expect too much. On the other hand, I was also letting him know that he would never own my heart, at least not all of it.

"And what if I choose to assist Victor," he replied at last, "and you decide that you've made a mistake? "That you won’t wake up one day and realize you’ve made a mistake?”

"You have my word."

"Your word."

"Yes. Aaron, I may not love you as you want me to, but I do respect you. And I have seen enough of your character to know that you are a good man that deserves a wife of integrity. I am promising you I am going to be that wife.”

"Though you belong to another man?"

“Though my heart belongs to another.”

Aaron rose and walked to the window and looked out into the estate. I saw him consider my offer, likely weighing the pros and cons like the strategic player he was.

“There’s something you need to hear,” he said with his back to me. “Something about why Victor was so sure I was dangerous.”
"What?"

"The fakes you lifted from my safe, they weren't the only fakes I've made. There are secrets in my life, Isabella. And some real shit that your dad probably wouldn’t let you get away with if he knew the whole story.”

"What kind of activities?"

“The kind that forces me to choose between family loyalty and principles greater than myself sometimes. The sort you can create only if certain unsavory types learn about them?”
I thought about that package I had found -- the one containing the Immortal Killer, and what Aaron had been up to, other than legitimate family business.

"So you're telling me this to necessarily deter me from my proposal?"

"I am putting this out there because you need to know what it is you are doing. Marriage to me is not all about family politics and business alliances. It’s about realizing that your husband lives in a universe where ethical lines are not always so obvious.”

“And you don’t believe I can deal with it?”

Aaron turned to look at me again, all serious. “I believe you are stronger than you think you are. But at the same time, I feel you have a right to make an informed decision.”

I got up and went over to him, halting near him so that I could read the indecision in his eyes.

"Aaron, I have already. I’m not asking that you be someone else or even live a different life. I want you to get Victor to safety, and in return, I’ll be the wife you need me to be.”
"Knowing that I will always be in love with a woman who loves another?"

His pain in his voice was making my chest hurt. It was going to be hard on both of us, but it was the only move I could see to make.
"Yes," I said quietly. "Even knowing that."

Aaron's hand came up, and he ran his thumb softly across my cheek as he touched my face. “You would have me save the man who hunted me, for a marriage he’ll never grant me what I truly desire.”

"Yes."

“And that’s a fair exchange you think?”
“It’s probably the only trade we’ll ever get.”

Aaron withdrew his hand and retreated. "I've got to have time to think about this."
"How much time?"

"Until morning. I’ll tell you what my answer is over breakfast.”
I nodded and ambled toward the door, then reconsidered. "Aaron?"

"Yes?"
"Whatever you choose... Thank you for letting me talk. And thank you for not protesting about me going to the marina tonight.”

I said it once that real love is about choice. That had to involve the decision to walk away.

As I walked to my room, I mused over how bizarre my life had suddenly become. A year ago I’d been an innocent girl who dreamed of romance and adventure. Tonight I’d just taken my future husband in a loveless marriage the way a businesswoman negotiates a deal—calm, cool, and collected.

I didn’t know whether that was progress or just defeatism. But either way, it is who I had come to be, and tomorrow I would see if Aaron was willing to take that woman as his wife.