Page 92 of Lost in the Moonlight

“How did you feel when Hector told you he asked me out?”

“Joy,” I said instantly. I didn’t want her to doubt even for a second that I wasn’t happy about things progressing for them. “So much joy, Mom.”

“And don’t you think I want that for my child? Love. Happiness. Someone adoring you. Because that was what I heard when I talked to him yesterday. I heard it in his voice. A fierce protectiveness that comes from caring deeply for someone. If I hadn’t, I would have gotten in the car and come home just to make sure you were safe.”

I almost wished for the numbness back. With dread, I said, “There’s more.”

“More than you dating the president’s son?”

She was trying to make light of it, trying to make me feel better, but it only increased the burden I was carrying. “Someone threw rocks at Lincoln’s house and left another note.” I caught her up to speed on everything and then sighed. “I’m still sure it’s Poco, Mom. I don’t want to freak the Marshals out, but I do want to be kept abreast of Aaron’s location.”

“Leaving notes isn’t the Viceroys’ style. They don’t knock and ask to come in.” She took a breath and kept going. “I won’t lie. I’m upset you didn’t tell me right away—about Poco or Lincoln or any of it. And yet, I also understand why you didn’t. You’ve been trying so hard ever since your dad died to keep me safe too. But it isn’t your job, honey. I’m the parent. Not you. You couldn’t have saved him that night. Nothing you could have done, even if you were the best surgeon in the world, would have stopped him from dying. I’m not going to disappear on you. I’m here. I’m here and happy.”

Her words tore through the shield I’d placed between me and those awful memories. The blood. The lifeless look in my dad’s eyes. It hurt so much more than I expected after all this time, but she was also right. I was trying to ensure she was safe because of what had happened, and she was also right that she was here and alive and happy, which was why I said quietly, “This is exactly why I can’t see Lincoln anymore. Just imagine what it would do to both of us if the photos got out.”

“What I imagine is that you must care for him deeply.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’d never risk me or our life here for a random fling.”

I swallowed hard. She knew me too well for me to lie. What I’d felt for Lincoln from that very first moment had been impossibly large. It wasn’t just me trying to mark off some item in my journal or revel in a minute of happiness. Something between us screamed forever, but it was a forever I couldn’thave. Not with him. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s not worth it. Not if I cost us this life only to bring heartache and loss to his by dying in a few years.”

“You’re wrong.” And when I started to protest, she rode over me. “No. Listen to me. Even if I’d known about your father’s FFI, I still would have married him. I still would have built our life together. Because every moment with him was worth it. We had years of happiness and love. Not everyone gets that. You can’t toss it aside just because there might be sorrow in some unknown future. Even knowing how everything ended, even though you and I had to give up our life and start over, I’d still spend every second I could with him.”

Her words were so close to Lincoln’s about Sienna that they weren’t easy to ignore. They’d both loved with every piece of their soul and lost, and they both said they’d do it all over again. “But he’s already lost a woman he loved, Mom. Nearly lost another who was shot. How could I possibly start this with him, knowing I’d only bring him more grief? More of the same?”

She was silent for a moment. “That’s pretty awful for someone so young to have gone through. But it also sounds like he’s someone who could truly understand your own loss. The real question, though, is what does he say about it? What does he want? Are you just some interesting diversion, or does he want more? Does he really wantyouwith all the ups and downs that come with you?”

I could still feel the imprint of him on me. His hands and his mouth. The weight of him as he was inside me. But even more, I felt the imprint he was leaving on my soul, the connections bonding us together in some complicated, messy way sure to hurt one or both of us. I thought of the fierceness in his eyes as he told me I was everything he wanted and needed, how I wasthe light forcing back his shadows, and how any amount of time he spent in that light was worth it.

“He wants me,” I said and meant it.

“Then, that’s all that matters. That’s all that’s important. Live, kiddo. Live hard. Love fully. Otherwise, you might as well have died that day with your father.” Her voice cracked, and I knew just how hard it was for her to have said something like that. To even think it.

“Maybe it would be that simple, Mom, if we weren’t talking about Lincoln Matherton. We’re not talking about me falling in love with some random college student. This scare with the photos…that’s going to happen again. His life is large and visible. Can you imagine what Deputy Marshal James would have to say about this? She’d want to relocate us. We’d have to give up everything all over again. My baking. Your teaching. If this all comes tumbling out, we’ll have to choose between moving and leaving their protection altogether.”

“They might ask us to move, and if they do, we might have to consider leaving the program.”

“Mom!”

“I’m not saying leave ourselves out in the open, unprotected. You said Lincoln declined Secret Service, but he’s hired a team, right?”

“Yes.”

“So,ifphotos emerge with you and Lincoln, andifthe Marshals put us on the spot, we can decide then whether to relocate or leave their protection and hire our own.” With every word she spoke, she was trying to remind me of the promises I’d made to myself on the plane ride home from the trial—my determination to not live with what-ifs and if-onlys holding me back. But these what-ifs were impossibly large and dangerous.

“Mom, be serious. We wouldn’t be able to afford our own security.” We weren’t quite living paycheck to paycheck, but we were far from wealthy.

“We don’t have to make a decision tonight. Or even tomorrow. It sounds like Lincoln is working really hard to help fix the situation as it stands now, both with the photos and with Poco. I’ll be home tomorrow around the time you get off work. We can discuss our next steps…” She paused and then attempted to lighten our talk by adding on, “And then you can help me pick out something to wear for my date with Hector.”

Some of the weight that had started to lift the longer we talked returned because I wanted her to be able to have many dates with Hector. Not just one. In choosing to stay and explore whatever this was with Lincoln, in choosing to risk another photograph, it felt like I was choosing my life over hers. And I didn’t want to be that selfish. I’d already taken too much I couldn’t give back. Both of hers and Lincoln’s.

But if I said any of that to her, we’d be right back to the start of this conversation. And Mom was right. We could talk about it more when she was home. So, I did the same thing she had done—I lightened the conversation.

“You made Hector really happy when you said yes. He was all doe-eyed and goofy.”

Mom laughed softly. “He is all doe-eyed. And I’m enjoying it. I’m enjoying him.”

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