“Ave.”
“What? If it’s not logical, it’s of the heart. Why do you always get antsy when I mention this?”
“Because I don’t know if I believe in this shit. I mean, what kind of God lets all this crap happen to innocent people.”
“One who believes in free will. He allows us to do what we choose, even when it’s soul killing and bat shit crazy acts.”
“Why?”
“Because, if He didn’t, we’d be nothing more than puppets. This forces us to be accountable for our actions.”
“You believe that? After everything?” he asked.
She sighed. “After what happened to my father you mean? Yes. He made bad decisions, and it cost him his life. Catalyst being, my mother got out of there and made a better life for us.” Her heart turned to lead as she thought about her father and his obsession with purifying Ireland. They’d lost him to a bomb. He lived by the gun, and he died by it. Her mother had distanced herself from his associates and casually applied for a working visa. The rest was history.
“I’m sorry.” He set his spoon down and placed his hand over hers. “That was shitty of me.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You asked an honest question. I try not to think about that too much, Enzo. It’s no use rehashing a past none of us can change. If anything, I used it as a model for what not to do. We can’t control the things that happen to us. But we can decide what to do with the rest of our life afterward.”
“You make it sound so damn easy, Ave.”
“Ack, I never said that. I’m a bag full of crazy on a good day and fully aware I’m a thirty-four-year-old comic book author who has a sorely lacking social life, a D.O.A love life, and very few friends.”
“You’re brilliant, and you know it,” Enzo countered.
She laughed. “To you maybe.”
“More than me. I’ve watched you work your ass off to get where you are. I remember when you were pounding the pavement submitting your resume everywhere, doing any sort of pro bono work you could to get your name out there. You worked a bevy of craptastic jobs to support yourself while you went after your dream. Now, you’re well on your way to achieving them. Own that shit.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she glanced away. She would never possess his swagger. Some days her plentiful contracts felt like a streak of good luck, though she had the work history to prove it to be anything but that.
“One day some man is going to swoop in and whisk you away from me. Then who’ll be here to call me on my shit?”
“Your mother, and come on, you know that’s never going to happen. I’ll always have time for you.” It could be you if you’d let yourself try with me.
“Even after you get hitched and pop out a few babies?” He met her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his thoughtful expression.
Something she couldn’t name crossed his face.
“Well, thank you for marrying me off and knocking me up.”
“What? We both know you’re dying to have kids.”
“With the right man ... someday, yes. At this point, I’ve never had a relationship make it to the one year mark. I’m a lot to handle, and it’s going to take one hell of a man to get me even half as well as you do.” She willed him to finally see what was in front of him. They were a key and lock, made to fit and always working in tandem. It was a rarity.
“We’re not getting any younger, Ave. That day is coming around the corner.”
Unless you step up to the plate. She glanced out the window, afraid he would see the longing in her eyes. Maybe he’s trying to tell me we are never going to happen and I need to move on without him. And my ass is too stupid to realize it. “I don’t feel the crush of age the way you do. I think it’ll happen organically. Life has a way of putting you on the right path eventually. For now, I’m in love with my life. I love my vintage two-bedroom apartment in the charming historic building. The freedom of being a freelancer, and the point I’ve reached in my career. Why borrow trouble worrying about what may or may not happen?”
“Just like that?” Enzo snapped.
“No, it’s a conscious choice I make daily. You know I live in my head. I’ve been in the dark before ... really deep. I’m trying not to return there. I didn’t like it much the first time.”
Enzo nodded and shoveled a spoonful of oats into his mouth. He was a brooding thinker, her creative best friend. Most only saw the successful tattoo artist with a hot bod, and what they took for a short fuse. While he might have some anger issues about certain events, he never flew off the handle or did anything impulsive. He was a brooder. A deep thinking individual who camouflaged his sensitivity with humor, crassness, and walls.
She’d scaled them one by one over the years, but an unbreakable obstacle remained. She forced herself to eat her breakfast. Times like this, it was best to let the silence remain between them. His birthdate was always rough. She never really understood why he wanted her with him. He never went into detail, simply saying it made him feel better.
She was a sucker that way, not wanting to bring up painful memories of his past. Maybe I should practice tough love? How could she when the majority of his formative years had been hell? The things that happened to you in the first five years shaped your life forever, she knew that more than most.