Chapter 18

Miserable was how I felt when I left the station about a half hour after Bosco had stormed out. I couldn't remember the last time that I had felt so many different emotions within such a short time. In the last forty-eight hours I had felt excitement, happiness, anger, depression, empathy, and real love—and it was wearing me out.

The thing was that no one really understood the relationship between him and me----not Fred, not my kids, not our friends or our colleagues. The reason our partnership had lasted so long was because we accepted each other exactly the way we were–and there was a lot of accepting to be done. With personalities as different as night and day, we complimented each other but we also had the tendency to irritate each other like a bad rash.

I had never understood, nor had anyone else I knew, how we could go from fighting and yelling at each other to making up in the next breath. I wondered if it was because we felt so comfortable around each other and secure together. For as long as I could remember, the only person who had made me feel secure was Bosco—and he accepted me no matter what I did or didn't do and he always had my back. That was the difference between him and Fred and a perfect example of what a real relationship was about.

I mulled these things over in my mind as I made my way home and into my apartment. I knew, as well as I knew my own name, that Bosco would blow off some steam, probably drink a little, and then come to me and want to talk. Even though I was hurt by the way he had treated me, I also knew that my partner needed to be alone and that he would come around eventually, and it left me with a strange, sad, peacefulness that only came from knowing him so well.

"No one will ever know you the way that I do. No one." He'd said. How true; For him, for me—but how nice to know, how comforting it was, knowing that no matter what happened he would always be the most important person in my life, and I in his.

Inwardly, a part of me wanted to mad at him for actually thinking that he wasn't good enough for me, for anyone, but the other part, the one that knew what he'd been through with his own family, wouldn't let me. I knew in my heart that Lily was his child—I felt it when I had looked at her! My opinion was that it was no coincidence that Bosco had been the one to take the call—of all the cops in New York City, he'd been the one. The problem was that he needed to find out for sure and I knew it scared the hell out of him–and who could blame him? I knew that when he found out it was true that there would be hell to pay and Nicole better hope that she had one hell of a fancy lawyer because he'd surely want to get Lily taken out of her home.

But exactly what would that entail? Would he be able to cope with having a ten year old daughter whom he'd never met before yesterday? Would he want to be a father? Would he know how? Would he and I raise her together? Oh, there were too many questions to answer, questions that I had no answer to.

I dropped my keys into the side table dish and kicked off my shoes. I felt dead on my feet and my legs were aching. I didn't even want to get anything to eat, as I was sure that I'd probably fall asleep at the table anyway. I did, however, make my way into the bathroom and took a quick shower.

My thoughts continued to swirl through my mind as I dried my hair, and for the first time in about two hours I really began to wonder where Bosco was. I knew that he was probably fine, as in not hurt or in an accident, but I did miss him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, tell him that everything would be fine, that he was the only man I wanted to be with.

And that's when I remembered Sean.

I groaned and bit down on my lip. I needed to talk to him and tell him that I couldn't see him anymore but the thought of it made me nervous. Funny that he had picked up on the chemistry between Bosco and myself, even before we did, and now, I had to tell him that we were together.

"I'd rather drink poison." I mumbled to my reflection.

I threw the hair dryer under the sink and made my way into the bedroom and put on my pajama bottoms and a white tank top. The shower had made me feel a little bit better and I decided to make a cup of tea before I made the call.

In the kitchen I put the kettle on the stove and waited for the water to boil. I took out my favorite mug and set it on the counter, all the while biting my nails. Figuring I should stop before I drew blood, I drew my hand out of my mouth and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost eight-thirty.

"Oh, please let this be easy." I begged into thin air. "I swear I'll never bite my nails again, just make this easy."

As I poured the hot water into the mug my cell phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin because I was so nervous. I walked over to the table and looked at the caller I.d. It was an unknown name and number.

Taking a deep breath, I answered. "Hello?"