“Eve paused to let her words sink into the soil of his fatherly impulses. “Blake’s not doing good—you know that. It’s more than possible he won’t make it. Being with the one you love at the end is almost as important as the beginning. It’s a mark in time, before and after. That tiny bit of time in the middle? You never stop thinking about that. She needs to be with Blake.”

“We’re here because I think all that time ago you fell off the horse. I think you had the breath knocked out of you, but no one made you get back on the horse. No one was there to tell you to keep trying, that it’s not okay to be afraid of the sun. But it’s not okay. I’m here to tell you to try again.”Livia paused to assess the impact of her words, but the mask hid Blake’s expression. “Running won’t stop me,” she continued. “I’ll keep finding you. I’ll keep dragging you back here—right to this spot—until you can stand in the sun. With me.”

“He seemed to be drinking in her face, looking at her instead of into her.“Stop. Stop that. This isn’t goodbye.”Blake pulled her left hand to his mouth and kissed her ring finger. “I’m still glad it’s empty. He never deserved you. Of that, I’m very sure.”Livia saw moisture in his eyes. “You’re saying goodbye. No. Here’s what I’m sure of. I’ll walk away from this house right now, wearing only what I have on my back and be happy. With you I can taste forever—it’s right here.” Livia pointed at her lips and then kissed his.Blake allowed the kiss, but mumbled a question as well, “How many shotguns does he have?”“Not enough to get me away from you.” Livia traced his jaw.Blake took her hand and kissed her palm, then her forehead, “Livia, go in there and let him talk to you. He’s a father. I’d want to talk to my daughter at a moment like this. Let’s give him that respect.”“I will not go in there. Where will you go?” Livia felt a gentle tug on her heart. She was torn. She wanted to comfort her dad and get him to understand who Blake was, but in as little time as possible so she could get back to Blake.“My inamorata, you know where I’ll be: where I’ll always be. Waiting. For you.” Blake began putting the mask on.Livia looked around wildly, feeling close to irrational. “I don’t want you to go.” These words were inadequate to express her need.Blake smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’ve often wished I had a father. Let me help him be that. He needs you to himself for a just a little while.”Livia’s love for her dad gave her the strength to step back and nod. She stood on the porch and watched Blake’s retreating form. Every once in a while he turned to wave, and just before he reached the end of her street, he stopped to look at her. Neither of them waved this time.”

“Can I give you my gift now?” Blake reached in his pocket.“You gave me this already.” Livia wiggled her ring finger.He unfolded the music and held it open for her.“You wrote me a song,” she gasped. “I love it, though you know I can’t read music.” She kissed his lips and held the paper against her heart.“Wait! Oh my gosh. Let me get your gift.” She grabbed a gift bag Kyle had left by the steps. Just before she could hand it to him, she pulled it back. “But what if you hate it? It’s either perfect or horrible. Now I’m worried.”Blake tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “It’s perfect. I’m sure of it. Hand it over.”Livia looked sheepish as he moved the tissue paper out of the way. He unrolled the familiar-shaped cardboard and stared at the keyboard she had painstakingly drawn.Livia tried to cover her worry with words. “I’m not sure if I should have replaced it. I mean, I know nothing could replace it. I tried to get the keys right. I went through like ten boxes and—”Blake could move quickly when he wanted to, and she gasped as he kissed her mid-word. He finally stopped long enough to thank her. “Every time I think I couldn’t love you a bit more, you stretch my heart again.”

“He found Whitebread curled up in the chair like a cat, her hand touching Blake’s. She was sleeping, and Beckett had almost turned tail to leave her in peace when Blake’s eyes snapped open.“The fuck!?” Beckett ran to Blake’s side as his brother’s face registered the room in panic.Whitebread popped up and was almost nose-to-nose with Blake immediately. Beckett leaned around her and held his brother’s flailing arms.Livia spoke in a soft, urgent voice. “Blake? They have you on a ventilator; this thing in your mouth needs to be removed by the doctor. Just calm down. Look, I’m here. I’m here. See? It’s okay. Just try to be calm.”Whitebread stroked Blake’s cheek.”

“You can have that life,” he told her. “It’s right there for you to take.”“I love you,” Eve quickly countered.“Loving me hurts you, doesn’t it?” Beckett asked, looking down. “No, you don’t have to tell me. I know. I can smell it. I can smell the pain coming off of you,” he said, looking at the floor. “You had love before and a future. What does loving me get you, Eve? What does it get you?” He stood, angry with himself.“I don’t need to get anything from you. It’s the way it is. There’s no changing that.” She gripped the porch railing.Beckett stepped close to Eve and tenderly tucked a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.“You’re saying goodbye,” she said, her eyes full of questions.“Do you know there are other little girls out there like that one? I lived with a few of them. They would sell their souls for a mother like you.”At the word mother Eve’s chin crumpled. She tried to hold back the tears, but they wouldn’t obey.“See that? It’s what you need. You need that—a little kid calling you Mom.” Beckett put his arms around her as she shattered.The pain she kept hidden surfaced from where it had been smoldering. When he felt her knees weaken, he hugged her harder.“That’s right. It’s okay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. You want normal.” He guided her to the chair he’d vacated. “There’s a guy out there who’ll hold your hand. There’s a little girl out there. She’s waiting for you. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” He knelt in front of her and rubbed her arms.She slapped at his hands, letting outrage carry her words. “I don’t want another man. I want you. I’ve killed for you. I’ve protected you. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you honestly think these hands that kill can hold a child?” She held her fingers in front of her face.“Yes. Absolutely. Don’t you know, gorgeous? Mothers are some of the most vicious killers out there, if their kids are threatened. You just have more practice.” He took her hands and kissed them.“I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose you. Don’t make me. Please. I’ll beg you if I have to.” She watched his lips on her palms.He shook his head and used her own words against her. “The hardest part of loving someone is not being with them when you want to be.”He stood, and she mirrored his motion,already shaking her head. “Don’t say it.”Beckett ignored her; he knew what he had to do. He had to set beautiful Eve free to find that soft, touchable woman he’d seen her become with the little girl.”

“His heart actually stumbled when he remembered her pain. He immediately knelt by her head.“Eve, how can I fix this? Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.” He moved her hair out of her face.Eve let his words lay in the room with them for a while before she uttered her blasphemous ones. “When I’m with you, it doesn’t hurt as bad.”He picked her up again, surprised—now that he could think—at how much she weighed. This girl’s pure muscle.He sat on the couch with her on his lap. Starting over. “I’m so sorry, Eve.”Eve touched the new marks on his chest, lines that linked all his past violence with a path of red, new pain. “I know you are, Beck. I know you are.”