I shrug. “I don’t know what she’s doing. I don’t care, so long as it’s silencing them and keeping you guys safe. Realistically, you shouldn’t be here right now. It’s already dangerous.”
“So that leaves us…?”
I shrug. “At an impasse, I guess. Nothing has changed.”
She watches me for a while as a heavy wind picks up outside and the heat inside turns this place into a sauna. When I say nothing more, she nods, then inclines her head. “I’m truly sorry to hear about your wife and baby.” Her eyes meet mine. “Really, I am. I don’t know how you survived that. There’s no way I could. I wish things could be different for you, and the worst part is,” her voice catches, “if they were, then we never would have met. I wouldn’t know what this feels like.” She presses a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Eric.”
I nod in understanding. She’s saying goodbye. “I love you, Katrina. Be safe.”
A cry tears up her throat, but she turns on her heels and dashes away, leaving me all alone in my apartment, my world, my head. I pick up my phone before she’s out the door, then I hit my very own version of a panic button to let Ang know she’s coming down and that he needs to walk her back to the diner. Two blocks is both near and impossibly far. It’s easy, but immeasurably dangerous for someone I care about. So I call him to take care of my girl, to get her home safely when I can’t do it myself.
Then I fall back against the cushions and stare at my ceiling.