"Please, you don't have to do this," she begged, folding her hands together in a praying gesture, something unfamiliar to her but necessary in this moment.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," the young man in front of her declared, swaying back and forth, the gun tightly gripped in his hand.
"There are people who can help you get better, I promise, they care, and they want to help," she continued to try and reason with the man.
"There's no help for me," he said, "not for people like us, and there never will be, we are all sick inside."
"No, you can get better, you can," she pleaded "just let the gun go, come with me and you'll see, it can be okay."
The man shook his head, not even bothering to give her a final answer. Julie watched in horror as he raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The explosive sound rattled her ears, causing everything around her to echo and vibrate unpleasantly. The man fell to the ground, the gun still locked in his hand. She couldn't even scream, she could only watch in shock, the blood pooling around him, just knowing she would have to process it, made her stomach hurt. She reached out to him as if that only could bring him back, but someone was grabbing her around her waist and pulling her away from this terrifying scene. One officer, then two, then five had descended on the man, carefully removing the gun from his lifeless hand as paramedics surrounded them. Julie tried to see through their chaotic movements of arms and legs but there was too much happening. CPR was useless, she knew, but the medics sill tried, eventually looking at watches and the flatlined heart monitor before shaking their heads and sitting back in defeat.
It was that final confirmation that made her scream. It echoed in her ears just like the gun shot, shattering the quiet night. Medics and officers turned to stare at the source, watching her with sympathetic eyes. She made a dive for the man lying on the concrete, but the same set of arms grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away again. She fought them, grabbing at their hands and tugging at them, scratching, her nails digging in to their skin. She wanted nothing more than to stay but at the same time get as far away from this place as possible.
As she was being pulled backwards, the scene dissolved around her. She was back inside the empty office building where the man had worked and taken refuge here to commit his final act. Then she was outside again, in front of the building where all the police cars had swarmed it for the last half hour of time in which she spent pleading with the man not to kill himself. His co workers were here even though it was almost midnight. The entire night had become a blur, from the original call about a break in at an office building downtown only to discover it was the man who worked here, breaking in so he could sneak into the back room and kill himself. But LVPD responded quickly and he escaped out the back leading them to the small outdoor break room space where she reached him first and begged and begged him to reconsider. Any one of them could have been the first to respond tonight, but Russell sent her along first. A standard B and E, he told her. Nothing she couldn't handle. His false sense of security made her angrier in the moment.
Across the street from the office building is where the arms around her finally let go, spinning her around and setting her down in the back seat of a police SUV that was open and waiting for her.
"Don't move," Russell's sharp voice ordered her, sounding much farther away than he really was.
She wondered why he was telling her that. Hadn't she dealt with enough today? She needed to go home. The ringing in her ears from the gunshot and her own subsequent screaming was still persistent and causing a horrifyingly familiar pounding in her skull now. She couldn't handle a coma related headache tonight, no way.
"Please don't," she begged out loud now to her own body, knowing once she started to cry or become stressed, the debilitating headache was inevitable.
Russell looked back at her, horrified that she was still trying to stop this incident from occurring.
"It's okay," he soothed her, misunderstanding her plea "you did everything you could."
She shook her head, trying to tell him that he was wrong, but the words would not come out.
"Family," she mumbled "tell his family."
"We will," Russell assured her, standing in front of her, blocking the building and officer's activity from her view.
She sat up, trying to see over him, knowing what he was doing, trying to protect her from seeing any more of the victim tonight as the medics loaded his body into the coroner's van.
"Doc, autopsy," she choked out.
"It's under control," Russell told her.
"I want to go," she demanded, of the lab and this mans now open case. She wanted to comb his work history and files and see if there were any clues leading up to this tragedy and if anyone could have prevented it.
"Wait," Russell protested "Crawford needs to take your statement here"
She stood up from the back seat of the car, trying to push past him but he forced her to sit back down. In her fragile state of mind, she did not have the usual strength to fight him.
Detective Crawford approached them now and Julie felt her stomach ache at the thought of reliving tonight's events.
"D.B," Crawford greeted him "Finn, how are you doing?"
"He's dead," Julie snapped harshly at Crawford even though she knew it was not his fault "I couldn't help him, he wouldn't listen to me."
Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffled uncontrollably, shaking in the tiny space she occupied.
"We'll talk fast," Crawford assured her "but if you need to stop, tell me okay?"
Julie nodded, crossing her arms, feeling cold now, her heart still racing in shock and fear.
Russell didn't want to leave Julie while she relived the horror of the night to Crawford, but he needed to step away to make a phone call. With Nick in San Diego, he knew it would take him hours to get here and Julie needed help tonight. After calmly leaving Nick a message explaining the nights events, hoping it would not induce panic when he heard it, he made one last phone call. She picked up on the second ring and he was grateful she was still awake.
"Sorry to bug you so late Connie," Russell apologized, "but we have an issue- Yeah it's Jules- she's not hurt- just, well, you should probably see for yourself, meet me at the lab ten? Thanks Connie."
He hung up, glancing back at Julie now wrapped in a blanket provided by the medics, still shivering, hugging herself, staring at the ground, shock settling in. He hoped he made the right call.
When Russell returned to the car, Julie was tossing aside the blanket and standing up, having told Crawford everything she witnessed tonight.
"We're all set here," Crawford said tapping his notepad "I'll put everything with the report, we may need to talk again if anything else comes up."
Julie nodded in understanding, dreading that moment if it ever transpired.
"Whose gonna tell his family?" she asked meekly now.
"Records show he didn't have any," Crawford said which crushed Julie further.
"He died alone," Julie said hanging her head.
Russell didn't have the heart to tell her that technically no, the man did not die alone but considering her fragility, he didn't think it was appropriate to pull a Zen move on her right now. Maybe later she would understand.
"Come on Jules," Russell said, "I'll take you home."
He reached out to her, but she recoiled and snapped "Lab first, you promised."
While that technically was not true, he knew if he wanted her to eventually go home and rest, he had to meet her halfway in her demand.
"All right," he agreed softly "but just for a little bit."
As he drove, she sat curled up in the passenger seat, tugging at her jacket sleeves, picking at some loose string on the hem, uncurling, then crossing her leg, bouncing one nervously, she was never at peace and it pained him to see that. At the lab, she bolted right for the layout room, starting up her work laptop to dig for more information on the office building and the innocent victim whose name she finally learned was Michael. Everything in his file showed he was an average employee, he never got written up, was always on time, attended the company parties. But he never advanced in his career, never started a family, never hung out with anyone outside of the office building, did not volunteer or have any activities besides work. He sounded too much like herself at one point prior to meeting Russell and the Seattle team and her ex husband Mike. Her eyes began to burn from staring at the screen for so long, but she could not look away. Someone had to honor this poor man and it might as well be her.
Russell hovered near the layout room door watching over Julie throw herself into the life of the victim at the office building tonight, until he received the text message he was waiting for. He abandoned Julie for just a few moments, returning with help in tow.
"She refuses to go home, I can't get her to stop blaming herself for what happened to Michael," Russell explained.
"Well what do you want me to do?" Constance asked as they hovered outside the door.
"Talk to her," Russell said, "you're neutral, she'll respond to you."
Constance gave Russell an unconvinced look. While she had been secretly watching Julie overcome difficult times over the course of her life, and they had been getting better at communicating and bonding these last few months, she still felt ill equipped to handle her in such a fragile time. She crossed her arms, imitating Julie's security gesture as Russell nodded at her encouragingly to get her to enter the room. Though it was only a few steps, it seemed much longer to Constance. Julie did not look up from the laptop until she heard "Hey kiddo," from a familiar voice.
Julie turned so fast in the chair, she almost fell out of it. Constance was the last person she expected to see tonight.
"What are you doing in here?" Julie asked, "you don't have clearance."
Constance looked back at Russell who was visible from the glass window panes, leaning on the wall across the hallway.
"Ask him," she replied.
Julie scoffed, realizing what was happening.
"He thinks I'm crazy," Julie said, "he thinks I need someone to take care of me because of what I saw tonight."
"Watching someone kill themselves is hardly a walk in the park," Constance fought her on her downplay of the case.
"I'm fine," Julie snapped, looking over Constance's shoulder to make sure Russell heard her.
"Look, I want to believe you," Constance said, "but you're burning out, let me take you home, it's not healthy to dwell on what happened and you shouldn't be alone right now."
As much as she hated to admit it, her mother was right, seeing Michael die right in front of her so violently, was replaying in her head and her eyes burned from staring at the computer screen. Her brain felt foggy from struggling to connect the events in Michael's life that led up to his suicide tonight. So as a silent way of giving in, Julie closed the laptop and pushed it away, getting up from the table and following Constance out of the lab.
It was no surprise that Russell had disappeared once he felt secure in the knowledge that Constance had succeeded in getting Julie to go home and rest. He was no longer hovering in the hallway when Julie locked up the layout room and started walking down the empty halls of the lab with Constance. She realized she had never given her a proper tour of the place and made a mental note to do so on a better day.
The parking lot was empty, save for the few night shift workers still left and the security guards. Constance had parked the old restored 57' Cadillac off the beaten path so no one would come near enough to scratch it. Bestowing it upon her when she re-entered her life had been a peace offering and a way to keep the memory of Patrick alive for both Julie and Constance.
"You wanna stay with me tonight or the house?" Constance asked, offering up her newly rented condo in the suburbs.
"Sam's at the house," Julie reminded her "he needs to be fed and let out."
"Home it is" Constance said, shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the lab parking lot.
When they reached Nick's house, Constance let Julie enter first. She had the keys anyways and could buffer the massive beast that was Sam when he came charging at them, excited to see Julie home at last. As comforting to her as the dog was, he still made Constance uneasy with his size and loud aggressive barks.
"Easy," she told Sam as he circled her, Julie unphased by the behavior.
"Sammy, dinner," Julie called flatly to the dog who rebounded and shot off into the kitchen where, despite having a perfectly good bowl of dry food and a dish of water, was only satisfied when Julie filled a new one with a new scoop of the exact same food.
Filling the food dish took what little strength she had left. While Sam chowed down, Julie sank into the stool at the counter, laying her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand and sighing. Constance maneuvered around the counter, opening the fridge and gathering up supplies to make food.
"I'm not hungry," Julie protested of her rummaging.
"Too bad," Constance bit back "you don't eat, then I call that Russell fellow and you two can duke it out."
Julie stared at her in shock, how could she be so callous right now? But she could not bring herself to fight with her, the images of Michael and the gun still replaying over and over in her mind. The images of him at the work party, supposedly happy, then the image of him lying motionless on the ground, blood pooling around him churned her stomach again.
Constance had poured something in a glass now and set it in front of her.
"Drink that," she ordered.
"I don't want to," Julie complained, normally not one to refuse alcohol but tonight was not the time for it.
"It'll help," Constance promised, swirling her own drink enthusiastically, "cures all ails"
"I'm not like you," Julie snapped "I don't need that to get by."
She didn't mean to be harsh, but she was annoyed with everyone wanting to coddle her after what happened. At the same time, she felt an ache in her chest for Nick, wishing he was here instead. Constance knew this and was not surprised by Julie's resistance right now. But it was Constance's will power built up over years of fighting people this way that she was able to turn around and focus instead on fixing Julie something to eat.
"Is grilled cheese ok?" she asked from the stove.
"Yes please," Julie said wondering how she knew that was her favorite.
Constance cooked the sandwich in silence while Julie stayed slouched at the counter, wanting to hurry up and eat so she could disappear upstairs and hide in her bed. When Constance set the plate of food down in front of Julie, she stood still and crossed her arms, waiting for her to take a bite. With her laser like eyes on her, Julie knew better than to disobey. She picked up the sandwich and took two small bites to satisfy this sudden motherly watch Constance had over her.
"So how did you get sucked into this mess?" Constance asked, having fixed a sandwich for herself and taken a seat across from Julie at the kitchen counter.
"It was a typical shift," Julie said picking off the crust of her sandwich, annoyed by it like she had been her entire life "I checked in with Russell, he assigned me the B and E."
"Breaking and entering?" Constance asked of the shorthand.
Julie nodded and continued "He told me it was an office building downtown, it was after business hours and the owner was suspicious so we headed out, me and three officers, we figured we would sweep the place and then move on, but the deeper we got into the place, we saw the light on in the back patio area and then we saw him, Michael and he had a gun, we assumed he was the suspect but the way he was sitting there, rocking back and forth, then how quickly he refused to surrender, the officers called for back up but that set him off, that's when he put the gun to his head and that's when I started begging him not to do it."
"Did he say why?" Constance asked.
"That's what I was trying to look for at the lab," Julie said sadly "but he had no one."
She fell silent, pushing the plate of half-finished food away from her, having choked down as much as she could, then, reaching for the glass of whiskey and downing the shot in one go. She really was like her mother after all.
Constance finished her meal, letting Julie sit in silence for a moment until she cleaned up the dishes and glasses. Then she ushered Julie up the stairs and into the master bedroom, pointing to the stack of clean pajamas she had laid out for Julie.
"I'm not tired," Julie insisted, rubbing her eyes which were still red and bloodshot from crying and staring at the computer screen.
"Just try and sleep all right?" Constance asked, turning down the covers on the bed, then nodding at the pajamas, wanting Julie to hurry up and change so she could get her to settle in bed and hopefully sleep sooner.
Robotically, Julie walked into the bathroom to change then walked back into the bedroom where she could not help but feel enticed by the comfortable bed that awaited her. So, she obeyed, sliding under the covers Constance had turned down for her, leaning back on the pillows and staring at Constance who had taken the arm chair from against the wall and scooted it next to the bed.
"Are you going to sit there until I fall asleep?" Julie asked sarcastically.
"You bet your sweet ass," Constance said, crossing her leg over the other.
This was a battle of will power in which there would be no winner seeing as they were both stubborn to the core.
"Why do people kill themselves?" Julie asked now.
"How the hell should I know?" Constance asked, "you're the investigator, how many suicides have you worked?"
"A lot," Julie admitted "but no one has ever actually done it right in front of me."
"Don't take it personally," Constance tried to reason with her "people like that, once they get it in their heads that the world is better off without them, you can't change their minds, some psych bull shit."
"But if someone had reached out to him," Julie tried now, tugging the covers closer to her chin "maybe he would have had a reason to fight."
"There's no way to know that for sure," Constance said shaking her head "look, think of it as, a cautionary tale, you tried to help and couldn't, doesn't mean you have to live with the guilt."
Julie stared at the ceiling trying to mull over the message being conveyed. Yes, suicide was terrible, but it also could have been stopped. So why wasn't her pleading with Michael enough? Was she not enough?
"But what about-
Julie started to speak again but Constance interrupted.
"Why can't you just let it go?" she snapped "you're always dwelling on the bad stuff, you're just like your mother."
That final sentence cut the tension in the room. Constance realized her mistake and said sheepishly, "I mean Karen, you're just like her. she could never let things go, it was always drama and she was ready to fight for no reason."
"I can't help it," Julie protested "she raised me, what did you expect?"
"Just forget I said it okay?" Constance said, getting frustrated at her mistake "go to sleep."
But a new set of thoughts invaded Julies mind as she lay there and only Constance had the answers for her.
"Am I really like them?" she asked, "you've said it before, when we first met, but I'm like you too right?"
Reliving the complicated history of her family was not the best coping mechanism but Constance saw an opportunity to distract Julie and she took it.
"Your eyes," Constance said plainly "you have our fathers' eyes, Patrick told me that's how he knew which baby you were at the convent six months later, that and your hair, it was messy and all over the place, totally me."
She fluffed out her hair, mimicking a gesture Julie did often when it got out of control on humid days.
"But I see Karen in you too, as crazy as that sounds," Constance continued "the way you look at me when you're mad, how quiet you get when you're thinking about something, I have watched her make that face a million times when Patrick first started dating her, when you play with the dog, it's the same way Karen played with kids and with you, it's, sweet, endearing."
Julie managed a small smile at these details being dished out to her like candy. It was things she had wondered about for years but never had solid answers to. She turned over in bed to lay on her side, facing Constance and said, "Tell me more, please?"
Constance sighed, wracking her brain for more details about Julie and her similarities to Patrick and Karen.
"Well you care about people," she continued "that's obvious from tonight and exactly like Patrick, probably why he was such a good doctor and father."
"You're stubborn like Karen and like me," Constance added "two different types of stubborn we cursed you with too, sorry kid."
Julie managed another smile, thinking of her personality and how each detail mattered because for years she had no familial connection and no history to look back on.
"And you have a mild anger management problem," Constance concluded.
"Do not," Julie protested.
"That's denial talking," Constance teased her "another one of my brothers' classic traits, Patrick, is that you?"
She leaned closer to Julie, inspecting her face playfully as if she were the reincarnated spirit of her brother, brushing her hair aside and peering into her eyes with mock concern making Julie giggle. Despite how horrible today had been, thinking about her family and the new things she learned almost daily from Constance had cheered her up. The simple gesture of brushing back Julie's hair affectionately, was unlike Constance and surprised them both in the moment but Julie loved it. It comforted her and was the motherly concern and love she had been missing for years.
"I love your stories," Julie said now "they help me put the pieces together and remind me that I wasn't forgotten."
"Never," Constance said fiercely continuing to stroke her hair "I may have made a mistake letting you go that night, but your face, it was always in the back of my mind, no one forgets a face like that, I don't know what it is exactly but you were born with the ability to steal hearts, even if it took fifty years for me to figure it out."
Julie did not know what to say in response to such a sentiment, but she knew it was heartfelt and sincere. After years of feeling rejected by people, it was nice to know that unlucky circumstances caused those feelings and nothing in her control could have changed that. And in that moment, she realized nothing could have changed Michaels decision tonight. He was set in that unfortunate dark place in his mind that was never going to be bright again. A casualty of mental health but a lesson for the future. Now she understood what Constance was trying to tell her.
"Think you can get some sleep now?" Constance asked, seeing the heavy gaze Julie was trying to hold while looking at her.
Julie nodded and finally closed her eyes, asleep before Constance had even dimmed the lights.
"I wasn't expecting you this early," Constance whispered despite being downstairs and far enough away from Julie asleep in the bedroom.
"Russell left me a message," Nick whispered back "I knew it was going to be bad, how is she?"
"I got her to sleep," Constance said, "no telling what kind of mood she'll be in when she wakes up."
"Thanks for being here," Nick said relieved that Julie had someone to lean on tonight "I don't think she's ever witnessed something like that before."
"She claimed she had," Constance said shrugging "Seattle I'm guessing."
"Maybe," Nick said wondering what other cases she had endured. He could not help but sympathize with Michael. Pain was something people could not tolerate, his own memories invading his mind now, being trapped in the box underground all those years ago, putting his own gun to his head, ready to end it because it got that bad. He never told Julie that and he didn't want to, especially after tonight but he knew it was going to come up in conversation somehow.
Nevertheless, his mind was focused on getting to her, making sure she was ok even if she was asleep. He proceeded up the stairs, Constance following him overprotectively, a new trait she had developed since first making herself known to Julie a few months back. In the bedroom, his first sight was Sam, laying protectively at the foot of the bed, the second, Julie, asleep as Constance had said, one arm tossed over her head. He smirked as he entered the room, familiar with her crazy sleep positions, sinking down gently on to the bed, leaning in and kissing her forehead. He didn't even have time to sit back up because her arms had reached out and wrapped around him.
"You're here," she called out tiredly "I thought- morning."
"Nah," he said, "I got the message and took the earlier flight."
"Tonight, was awful Nicky," she cried "who told you?"
"Russell of course," Nick said, "he didn't want you to be alone after all that."
"I wasn't alone," Julie reminded him "mom's here."
It was the first time she had referred to Constance as her mother. Nick heard a small cry from behind him and sure enough, Constance was there, listening to the exchange, one hand place over her chest. It was the reassurance she needed after all the time spent away from Julie.
"Yeah thank goodness she was," Nick said grateful for Julie understanding at last how much Constance cared about her.
Julie's arms began to fall in exhaustion, so Nick gently untangled himself from her grip to re-tuck her back in to bed before climbing in next to her. She immediately turned to lay on top of him, sighing and falling back to sleep, calm at last.
From the doorway, Constance sighed, tiptoeing into the room one last time to gather up her phone and the blanket she had been using when keeping watch over Julie before Nick arrived.
"Thanks for keeping her sane tonight," Nick said to Constance.
"It wasn't easy," she admitted "kid is like a machine, running in all directions, burning both ends of the night."
"She gets that from you," Nick couldn't help but tease her, feeling that all three of them had reached a point in their complicated relationship to be able to joke with one another.
"Don't remind me," Constance said rolling her eyes.
As she made her way back to the hall, Nick called out to her again.
"I know this is bad timing," he began "but tomorrow is Valentines Day, and Friday is the 15th, we uh, had plans to celebrate the holiday and then the four year anniversary of surviving her coma, San Diego is her jam so we have a flight tomorrow for the weekend out there, I think it would be a good idea if you came with us."
"What like some weird third wheel?" Constance asked, "no thanks."
"No," Nick corrected her "I want you to see the place, where I live, and the beach, she loves it and I think it would do you both good if you got to be there, you know, together."
As Constance stood there, mulling it over, she began to realize Nick was setting them up for more time to connect and bond. She could have argued it made no difference whether they talked in Vegas or at the beach but if it meant that much to them, she was willing to try.
"All right," she agreed "but a plane ticket this close to Valentines Day?" That'll be impossible."
"For some people," Nick said, nodding to the dresser where three tickets lay inside a small envelope.
"You're the devil, you know that," Constance teased Nick of his trick, clearly having purchased three tickets in advanced.
All he could do was smirk, happy to have the chance to show Constance she was just as important to him as any family member, especially after tonight.
February 15th, 2019
As hesitant as Constance was to accompany Julie and Nick to San Diego, not even five minutes after landing did, she immediately regret that feeling. The place was beautiful even in winter. She had not been to the beach in years and even though it was sixty degrees, she was just as excited as Julie to see it. Constance knew why Nick had asked her to go. There was nothing sweeter than watching Julie race down to the beach and sink down into the sand to watch the waves, digging around for seashells and doing cartwheels when she got restless again. The beach made them all feel so alive and forget the horrors that plagued them two night ago. And even though Michael lost his battle, Julie survived hers against Winthrop. She was a living reminder of what strength and resilience looked like.
"So, what do you think?" Nick asked Constance as they walked around the private beach that surrounded his condo while Julie played a few yards ahead of them.
"It's wonderful," she said, "you were right, she loves it here."
"It's kind of been a tradition to bring her here to celebrate what she survived," Nick explained "I try to take her to other places, but she insists on being here."
"You two really have something special," Constance said, loving the cool breeze that hit her face in the moment "if I would have known about the coma thing, I would have been there, I felt bad for being hidden from her for years but that, that kills me, how could I have missed that?"
"We all missed it," Nick said sadly, "the evidence showed us a different target and reason, but after it all happened, it all made sense as horrible as it was, but look at her now."
He glanced at Julie who was standing in the tide, letting the cold-water rush over her ankles, savoring the feeling and what it meant to be alive.
"Can't even tell anything happened to her," Nick concluded "that's how much of a fighter she is."
"She gets that from me," Constance realized that maybe, giving her daughter some traits were not a bad thing at all.
When Nick and Constance caught up to Julie, she had presented them each with a seashell she discovered in the sand. She carried two extras in her hand.
"This one's mine for the collection," she explained "I save one for every time we're here, and this one, this is for Michael, a lot of people will forget him, but I won't."
"That's sweet babe," Nick praised her, taking her hand while they walked back to the condo.
"Isn't this place fun?" Julie asked Constance now who smiled and said, "It's the bees knees darling," echoing Nick and Julie's catchphrases in the moment.
That evening, the trio made dinner together, watching clouds roll in for an impending shower of rain. After the meal, Julie had disappeared onto the patio to watch the clouds. Nick followed her, observing her standing in front of the wooden railing that encased the patio. He approached her slowly, gently wrapping his arms around her.
"Are you hiding out here to avoid helping with the dishes?" he teased, squeezing her side playfully.
"No," she giggled, leaning back into his embrace "I like watching the water and the clouds and just thinking."
"About Michael?" Nick asked, worried that her mind was still in a dark place.
"A little," she admitted "It's sad what happened to him and sad that he didn't have anyone who noticed and could have helped."
"It is," Nick agreed with her, swaying with her comfortingly.
"But I think about other people too," she continued "people we've helped who survive horrible things, and the horrible things we survived, it makes you humble, you know?"
"I do," he said, thinking back to his time trapped in the box underground and how, if he had turned the gun on himself that day, he would not be here, holding her, being with her, loving the most wonderful person in the world.
"I love being alive," she declared happily now "not just waking up everyday but feeling stuff, we get to feel so much Nicky, happy, sad, peace, how cold the water was today, how warm it was last year when we were on the boat, I say it a lot, especially because of what today is, but I mean it."
"I love that you think that way," Nick said, kissing her shoulder "it's absolutely beautiful, you care, and you love harder than anyone I've ever known, don't ever lose that."
He hugged her tighter as she said, "I promise," shivering when the wind picked up, a somber reminder of what they lost over the years. But they were both survivors, as they had both reminded each other since being together and that is what today was about, survival.
"Happy February fifteenth Nicky," she whispered, feeling the need to redefine what today meant.
"Happy February fifteenth sweetness," he said back, realizing this was a new step in the healing process, celebrating what made them strong and smashing the stigma of being defined by malice.