Page 59 of The Thief
"That's putting it mildly," Raylee agrees. "I remember when Malcolm first brought me home to meet the family. Thought I'd walked into some kind of mafia movie."
"How long have you been married?"
"Six years next month. Best six years of my life, violence and all."
"You don't mind it? The danger, the uncertainty?"
"Not at all. Malcolm would never let anything happen to me or our kids."
Melissa nods. "It's not the life you plan for, but it's the life you get. And these men, our men, they'd die before they’d let anything happen to us."
"That's what scares me," I admit.
"The dying part?"
"The caring part. Getting attached to people who live dangerous lives."
Both women go quiet, understanding passing between them. They've both faced this fear, this choice between safety and love.
"Can I tell you something?" Melissa says. "The caring part isn't optional. It just happens, whether you want it to or not. The question is whether you're brave enough to see where it leads."
"And if it leads to heartbreak?"
"Then at least you'll have loved someone worth breaking your heart over."
Simple words, but they carry weight. These women have chosen love over safety, partnership over protection. They've looked at the violence and the danger and decided it was worth the risk.
Don't know if I'm that brave yet.
"Tell us about Belfast," Raylee says, changing the subject. "What was your life like before all this?"
I tell them about Murphy's, about pulling pints and dodging wandering hands. About the flat above the pub and the regulars who treated me like family. About Vittoria, my only real friend, who's probably married to some stranger by now.
It sounds small when I describe it. Limited. Like I was hiding instead of living.
"Do you miss it?" Melissa asks.
"Parts of it. The simplicity, I suppose. Knowing what each day would bring."
"And the loneliness?"
Direct question. The kind that cuts straight to the heart of things.
"Yeah. I miss that too, sometimes. It’s easier to be lonely than to risk caring about people who might disappear."
"Like your father did."
"Like everyone does eventually."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, three women who understand loss in different ways. Melissa lost her sister to drugs. Her mam wasn’t really a mam and her father was in prison when she needed him the most. Raylee grew up with both of her parents, but everything she knew about them was a lie. Her dad’s dead, her mam long gone. We've all learned that loving people means risking heartbreak.
"This thing with Freddie. Is it real?" Raylee asks.
Heat creeps up my neck. "What thing?"
"Oh please," Melissa laughs. "Denis says the man looks at you like you hung the bloody moon. And you get this look on your face whenever someone mentions his name."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
