Chapter 15 - Naomi's Goodbye
For the next two weeks, nobody mentioned the word prison around the babies.
As if newborns might understand.
Roman spent every available hour with them.
He learned bottles.
Badly at first.
Then well.
He learned which cry belonged to hunger.
Which belonged to gas.
Which meant Miles was simply offended by existence.
He learned Jude liked being held upright.
Leo preferred movement.
Miles slept best when Roman hummed terribly.
Naomi recorded that.
Roman objected.
"Delete it."
"Never."
"My reputation."
"Already destroyed."
He smiled.
The house changed.
Elise's funeral flowers were finally removed.
Not all her photographs.
Never those.
Roman moved her clothes slowly.
One box at a time.
He kept her perfume.
Her wedding dress.
The sweater she wore to St. Agnes.
Naomi didn't ask why.
Some objects became bridges.
They were allowed to remain.
Naomi spent nights in the guest room.
She told herself it was because security around her apartment remained complicated.
That was partly true.
The larger truth was harder.
She wanted to be there.
Near the boys.
Near Roman.
That frightened her more than Kincaid had.
Not because Roman was dangerous.
Because attachment was.
Naomi had loved Micah completely.
Then Micah died.
Her body had learned the brutal equation:
Love equals vulnerability.
Now three babies reached for her.
Roman looked for her when entering rooms.
Her heart was making decisions her mind considered reckless.
Three days before the hearing, Naomi told Roman she was leaving.
He stood in the kitchen making formula.
He didn't turn around.
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
The scoop stopped in his hand.
"Why?"
"You know."
"No."
Naomi sighed.
"Because this is becoming too much."
Roman finally looked at her.
"What is?"
She gestured.
"The house. The boys. You."
His face changed.
"Me."
"Yes."
Roman set the bottle down.
"I haven't asked you for anything."
"I know."
"Then what did I do?"
"Nothing."
He frowned.
Naomi continued.
"That's the problem."
He almost laughed.
"You're leaving because I didn't do something?"
"I'm leaving because I care."
Roman became still.
There.
The truth.
Naomi's eyes filled.
"I care what happens to you."
Roman didn't move.
"I care whether you're sleeping. Whether you eat. Whether you're going to prison."
She looked toward the nursery.
"I love those boys."
Roman swallowed.
"And every part of me is screaming that loving people is how you lose them."
He understood.
Naomi continued.
"I can't stand in a courtroom and watch another person I care about disappear."
Roman's voice was quiet.
"So you'll disappear first."
That hurt.
"Maybe."
Roman looked away.
"That's what I used to do."
"What?"
"Control the loss before it happened."
Naomi frowned.
Roman continued.
"My father could take things away. Enemies could take things away. So I learned to own everything first."
He looked at her.
"People. Businesses. Situations."
"That's not what I'm doing."
"No."
His expression softened.
"You're doing the gentler version."
Naomi hated that he might be right.
Roman moved closer but stopped several feet away.
"If you need to go, go."
She hadn't expected permission to hurt this much.
"I won't stop you."
"Thank you."
"But don't lie to yourself."
Naomi looked at him.
"You're not leaving because you care too little."
His eyes held hers.
"You're leaving because you care enough to be scared."
Naomi wiped her face.
"Maybe."
Roman smiled sadly.
"Your grandmother would tell you to do the next necessary thing."
Naomi laughed through tears.
"I hate that you remembered."
"I remember everything you say."
That was worse.
Naomi packed.
She said goodbye to the babies one at a time.
Miles grabbed her hair.
Leo spit up on her shoulder.
Jude held her finger.
Perfect.
Terrible.
Ordinary.
Roman remained downstairs.
Naomi approached the door.
He held out something.
Micah's old parenting book.
The recovered original.
Evidence technicians had returned it.
The binding was damaged where Elise hid the drive.
Naomi took it.
"I thought this was still federal evidence."
"Released."
She touched the torn cover.
Two mothers.
Two babies.
Two acts of feeding.
One book.
Roman said, "Elise gave you something inside it."
Naomi nodded.
He continued.
"So I put something back."
Naomi looked at him.
"What?"
"Go home."
She almost protested.
Roman smiled.
"You're terrible with instructions."
Naomi left.
At her apartment, she opened the book.
Inside the back cover was a new envelope.
Not money.
Not a deed.
A photograph.
Roman sitting on the nursery floor.
Jude asleep against his chest.
Leo on one leg.
Miles on the other.
Roman looked exhausted.
Happy.
On the back he had written:
You saved more than their lives.
Naomi sat on her bed and cried.
The next three days passed slowly.
Roman did not call excessively.
One message each morning.
Boys good. Jude took 4 oz. Miles declared war on socks.
Another at night.
All asleep. I hate bottle sterilizers.
Naomi answered.
Shortly.
Carefully.
On hearing day morning, she intended not to go.
She made coffee.
Opened her laptop.
Closed it.
Walked to the window.
Back.
Tessa called.
"You dressed?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I'm not going."
"Yes, you are."
"Tessa."
"You love him."
Naomi froze.
"No."
"Okay. You deeply emotionally care about an intimidating tattooed billionaire who sends you diaper updates."
"That's different."
"Very."
Naomi sat.
"I can't."
Tessa softened.
"Naomi."
"What?"
"You couldn't save Micah."
Naomi closed her eyes.
"I know."
"You also couldn't stop Elise's crash."
"I know."
"You can't control Roman's sentence."
"I know."
"Then stop treating love like it's a test you failed."
Naomi cried.
An hour later, she stood outside federal court.
Reporters packed the steps.
Roman arrived separately.
Dark suit.
No visible security entourage.
Victor beside him.
He saw Naomi immediately.
Stopped.
For one second, nobody else existed.
Roman walked toward her.
"You came."
"I hate courtrooms."
"Me too."
"I'm still scared."
"So am I."
Naomi smiled.
"Good."
Roman laughed.
Inside, the hearing lasted hours.
Prosecutors described his cooperation.
Defense attorneys described his efforts to dismantle criminal operations.
Victims' representatives spoke.
Some angry.
Rightfully.
Roman listened.
Never interrupted.
Never denied harm.
When given a chance to speak, he stood.
"I spent years believing that because I did not commit the worst crimes around me, I was separate from them."
The courtroom quieted.
"I wasn't."
Naomi's eyes filled.
"I benefited from fear. I allowed people around me to use it. I protected systems that hurt others because those systems protected me."
Roman looked toward the judge.
"My wife understood before I did that there is no such thing as clean hands inside a dirty machine."
Victor lowered his eyes.
Roman continued.
"I am not asking this court to erase what I did because I became a father."
He glanced toward Naomi.
"I am asking for the chance to spend whatever life remains after accountability becoming someone my sons can learn from instead of someone they need to survive."
Naomi cried silently.
The judge recessed.
Three hours.
Longest three hours of Naomi's life.
Finally everyone returned.
The judge spoke.
Roman faced a custodial sentence.
But due to extraordinary cooperation, testimony, voluntary asset forfeiture, lack of direct involvement in violent offenses charged, and substantial assistance dismantling criminal networks—
Eighteen months.
Naomi stopped breathing.
Roman closed his eyes.
Eighteen months.
Not decades.
Not freedom.
Consequences.
The judge allowed surrender in thirty days.
Roman turned toward Naomi.
She smiled through tears.
"You'll miss first birthdays."
His face broke.
"Yeah."
That hurt more than the sentence.
Outside court, reporters shouted.
Roman ignored them.
Naomi stood beside him.
"Thirty days."
He nodded.
"What do you want to do?"
Roman looked at her.
"Maine."
Naomi's heart stopped.
"The blue house?"
"Yes."
"With the boys?"
"Yes."
"Victor?"
"Absolutely not."
Victor behind them said, "I heard that."
Roman smiled.
Then looked at Naomi.
"Come."
Not demand.
Not command.
One word.
A choice.
Naomi thought of Micah.
Elise.
Jude.
Leo.
Miles.
Grief.
Fear.
The next necessary thing.
"Okay."
Roman exhaled.
They left for Maine three days later.
For the first time, Roman traveled without a convoy.
One car.
Three babies.
Naomi.
Too many diapers.
No guns visible.
And when the little blue house appeared at the end of a quiet coastal road, Roman stopped the car.
He stared.
Elise's dream.
Naomi touched his hand.
Roman whispered, "I don't know if I can go inside."
Naomi squeezed gently.
"You don't need courage for the whole road."
Roman looked at her.
"Just the next necessary thing."
Together, they stepped out.
But inside the blue house, Elise had left one final surprise.
May you like
Something neither Roman nor Naomi was prepared to find.
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