Chapter 8 - The Woman Across the Street
Three months after I left, I saw Nico without him seeing me.
At least, I thought he didn’t.
Snow had begun falling over Chicago.
I was leaving a bakery near Dawson & Reed carrying coffee for myself and Evelyn when I noticed a familiar black coat across the street.
Nico stood beneath an awning.
Arthur beside him.
They were speaking with someone from the development project.
I stopped.
Nico looked different.
Not physically.
He was still tall, dark-haired, severe enough to make strangers instinctively move out of his path.
But something in his posture had changed.
Less arrogance.
More weight.
Arthur said something.
Nico almost smiled.
Then a woman approached him.
Beautiful.
Blonde.
Expensive coat.
I watched her touch his arm.
Pain sliced through me so quickly I was embarrassed.
I had left him.
I had no claim.
Still, my fingers tightened around the coffee carrier.
The woman leaned closer.
Nico stepped back.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
He shook his head.
She said something else.
He answered.
Then she walked away looking annoyed.
June would have enjoyed that.
I should have continued to work.
Instead, I remained across the street like an idiot.
Nico suddenly looked up.
Directly at me.
Our eyes met through the snow.
He didn’t cross.
He didn’t call.
He simply stood there.
The traffic light changed.
People moved between us.
For one strange second, Chicago disappeared.
Then I turned away.
Back at the office, Evelyn took her coffee.
“You’re late.”
“Snow.”
“You have snow on only one shoulder.”
I stared at her.
“Are you secretly law enforcement?”
“No. Observant women terrify mediocre men.”
I sat down.
She looked toward me.
“You saw him.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“That bad?”
“That confusing.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Better than boring.”
I spent the afternoon angry with myself.
Why did I care whether Nico dated someone?
Why did the idea of him moving on hurt when I had demanded freedom?
Because freedom didn’t erase attachment.
Because I still dreamed about our bedroom.
Because sometimes, when I woke from nightmares, his name formed in my mouth before memory stopped it.
Healing was humiliatingly nonlinear.
That evening, June finally asked what was wrong.
I told her.
She laughed.
“You’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“You’re holding a kitchen knife while saying that.”
“I’m cutting peppers.”
“A pepper has personally offended you.”
I put the knife down.
“He can date whoever he wants.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t care.”
“Sure.”
“I left.”
“Yes.”
“He said he’d forget me.”
June’s humor vanished.
There it was.
The real wound.
I lowered my voice.
“What if he does?”
June looked at me gently.
“You’re afraid of exactly what you left him for saying.”
I sat down.
“That’s pathetic.”
“No. It’s grief.”
Meanwhile, Nico stood in Arthur’s office.
“You saw her,” Arthur said.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t go over.”
“No.”
“Growth.”
“Stop sounding surprised.”
Arthur handed him a folder.
“The woman who spoke to you was Salerno’s attorney.”
“I know.”
“What did she want?”
“A meeting.”
“With Salerno?”
“Yes.”
“Will you go?”
“No.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
Nico looked out the window.
“He wants leverage. I’m not interested in giving him a stage.”
“What if he has something real?”
“He sends it through counsel.”
“You’re becoming unbearably legitimate.”
“Tragic.”
Then Arthur became serious.
“Federal investigators contacted two of our companies.”
Nico nodded.
“I expected it.”
“They’re asking about old accounts.”
“Give them records.”
“All records?”
“All.”
Arthur stared.
“That could implicate us.”
“Yes.”
“You understand what you’re saying?”
Nico looked at him.
“For fifteen years, everyone around me has treated consequences as things for other people.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m tired.”
Arthur slowly sat.
“You could lose control of the organization.”
“Good.”
Arthur blinked.
Nico continued.
“If the only way I stay in control is by maintaining something rotten, then control is overrated.”
Arthur leaned back.
“Who are you and what did you do with Nico Moretti?”
Nico didn’t smile.
“I’m trying to find out.”
Two days later, Claire called me.
“We verified most of Salerno’s documents.”
My stomach tightened.
“How bad?”
“Some implicate Moretti companies. Some implicate Salerno more.”
“Why give them to me?”
“To make you pressure Nico into a deal.”
“What deal?”
“Most likely mutual silence.”
I stared at the window.
“So I’m leverage.”
“Yes.”
I hated how unsurprising that was.
“What do we do?”
“We?”
“My lawyer and me.”
Claire almost sounded pleased.
“We turn everything over to the appropriate authorities.”
“Even the parts involving Nico?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
If I did that, I could hurt him.
Not emotionally.
Legally.
Financially.
Possibly permanently.
Three months earlier, I might have protected him instinctively.
Wasn’t that what love had taught me?
Hide stains.
Ignore questions.
Preserve the person you love at your own expense.
I thought of Arthur’s words.
Someone needed to stop protecting Nico from consequences.
“Do it,” I said.
Claire paused.
“You’re certain?”
“No.”
“Good. Certainty is overrated.”
She submitted the materials.
That evening, I called Nico.
“I gave Salerno’s documents to investigators.”
Silence.
Then he said, “Okay.”
“That’s all?”
“What did you expect?”
“Anger.”
“No.”
“You could be charged with something.”
“Yes.”
“Your businesses could collapse.”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“Why aren’t you fighting me?”
“Because you didn’t create the evidence.”
My eyes filled.
Old Nico would have blamed the messenger.
He continued.
“If something I did deserves consequences, hiding it doesn’t make me innocent.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then he said something softer.
“You did the right thing.”
The words nearly destroyed me.
Because for three years I had wanted his approval.
Now that I no longer lived for it, it finally sounded sincere.
“Nico.”
“Yes?”
“I saw you across the street.”
“I know.”
“With that woman.”
A pause.
Then unmistakable amusement entered his voice.
“Were you jealous?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Norah.”
“What?”
“She’s Salerno’s attorney.”
Heat rushed into my face.
“Oh.”
“And for the record, I told her no.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“Of course.”
“You sound smug.”
“I haven’t been allowed to be smug with you for three months. Let me have six seconds.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
It slipped out.
Nico went silent.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I missed that.”
My laughter stopped.
A soft ache replaced it.
“Nico…”
“I know.”
He did not ask me to come back.
We said goodnight.
For the first time since leaving, I cried afterward for a reason that wasn’t entirely pain.
Maybe people really could change.
The dangerous question was whether change could resurrect love after trust had been buried.
Before I could answer it, Claire called again.
Her voice was sharp.
“Norah, leave your apartment.”
“What?”
“Now.”
“Why?”
“Salerno knows you turned over the documents.”
My heart stopped.
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
“What does he want?”
Claire paused.
“According to the message my office just received, he wants to meet you before midnight.”
“And if I don’t?”
“He says he’ll release information that could destroy Nico.”
I looked toward June’s window.
Snow pressed against the glass.
Three months earlier, I would have run to Nico.
This time, I made a different decision.
“Send me the message.”
May you like
Because if Salerno wanted to use me as a bridge back into Nico’s world, he was about to discover I no longer belonged to either man.
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