Chapter 3

The next three days are an emotional blur for me. The one thing I don't do is revisit denial land, and I feel like I'm learning to fall in love with myself again. I didn't realize how much of my thought process involved thinking about seeing, avoiding, or even just contemplating Morelli and Ranger until I wasn't anymore.

I am stiff and sore from that fall down the stairs, but fortunately, I already had work commitments that keep me employed but out of the field. I have an afternoon business meeting, and I'm bolstering my courage with mascara and comfort food. I close my eyes and inhale the heavenly aroma of a Pino's hot meatball sub freshly placed in front of me. Mmmmm.

The sight I open my eyes to is a lot less heavenly. Joe took my distraction as an opportunity to sit opposite me in the booth. Damn. I really need to learn to be more aware of my surroundings.

Morelli rests his forearms on the table and is slowly sliding his hands forward.

"Don't touch me," I growl in a low tone, leaning back. I have no desire to make a scene, but I'm not above doing so.

Morelli immediately stops and pulls his hands back while his shoulders slouch. I sit silently and intently watch Joe. The dark circles under his eyes age him at least a decade, and I can smell the aftereffects of a bender powering through his aftershave.

"I've been thinking, Steph," Joe starts before sighing and looking away while running his hand through his hair. He sets his lips grimly before looking at me again. "I'm sorry," he says, eyes shining. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I hope I can earn it."

My eyes slightly widen as I take in his apology. I can say it's the last thing I ever expected to come from this conversation. Since my face is an open book, Joe must be encouraged by my expression and presses on.

"I don't think I realized just how fucked up my life is until now. What went down when we were kids, that was wrong. I guess I knew that even then, but I'd seen Anthony do it, and I was curious. I knew you'd be curious, too, or at least I knew you'd listen to me. Later, as a teenager, I was an egotistical ass when I pushed you into having sex with me at the Tasty Pastry. I don't even know what I was thinking, leaving those poems around town. It's just that the hottest girl in the Burg was with me, and I wanted to tell the world. After that, I can't even imagine what life was like for you, and I know I deserved to be run over by the Buick.

"I couldn't believe my luck when you decided to become a bounty hunter and try to drag my ass back to jail. I thought you were a joke who'd never succeed. The truth is, I probably wouldn't have cleared my name without your help then, and my case closure record wouldn't be what it is now without the help you still give me. I never gave you your due, again, because I'm an egotistical ass.

"I felt threatened by you. You never gave in to what everyone expected of you, and I wanted to be half as brave as you. I guess I thought that if I was going to be forced into a Burg life, then I would take you down with me. Misery loving company, especially when the company is great in bed, and all that."

My heart softened as I listened to Joe recount our history from his perspective, but the mention of our recent sex life immediately causes my breath to hitch and my shoulders to set. Morelli doesn't miss any of this, and he runs his hands through his hair again.

"I know what I did, Steph. I didn't think of it that way at the time, not that I was thinking about anything other than sex. I've taken victim statements for less, and I mentally cursed the perp, feeling my sense of self-righteousness. You said no, Steph, and I didn't listen," Joe whispers, his voice breaking with remorse.

"I raped you, and God help me, I don't even know how many times throughout our relationship I did. I never listened to you. I just assumed I knew what you wanted and that somehow it was my right to take it. I thought that if I wasn't a raging alcoholic, that I was pretty faithful, at least during our on periods, and that if I kept my hands to myself that I had beaten the Morelli curse. I'm not my father, but I'm no better either. I'm so sorry, Stephanie," Joe says. His mouth sets, but he gazes right at me, and I believe his sincerity.

"Yes, you did," I affirm. I'm a forgiving person, but I am not going to let this go. "You hurt me."

Joe ages a little more before me. "I know," he says, and I'm impressed that he doesn't offer any excuses.

"How are you going to do better?" I challenge. Words are meaningless without action.

"I took a leave of absence, and I'm checking into rehab. I'm leaving today. When I return, the Chief has been pushing a community outreach program with the local women's shelter. I already told him I would volunteer if I had a partner, and Eddie said he'd join me. I don't know what else, and I'm willing to do more," Joe says, and I'm impressed by what he has already set into motion.

"I need you to do one thing for me," I respond calmly.

"Anything," Joe earnestly, looking relieved that I'm asking.

"Before you leave, make sure the Burg, and especially our mothers and your Grandma Bella, know without a doubt that we are through, that we are never getting back together, and that I did not leave you for anyone else. You will make sure that no one believes the reason for our breakup is because I refuse to quit my job, that I'm terrible at my job, that I'm an awful cook, I don't want to get married, or any of the other Burg certified reasons to hate me. I meant it. We are done. You've left town before, and I had to deal with the aftermath. This time, you get to mop up the mess," I state firmly, laying out my expectation as clearly as I can. "I want there to be no doubt; we are done."

"Okay," Morelli says. "I loved you, Steph, but I never treated you the way I should have. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," I respond, and I realize I mean it. I've decided to learn to fly, and the weight of hate hanging on me won't make flight any easier. "However, I expect you to keep your word. I should report you. You know it, and I know it. If I find out that you hurt anyone else, that you don't follow through on the promises you made me today, or if anything happens to me because of you, this last chance I'm giving you goes away. Have I made myself clear?" I finish, but my words hang crisply between us.

"Thank you," Morelli says with relief. "I understand." He taps his fingers twice on the table, nods at me once, and slips out of the booth.

Three Weeks Later

"No, mom, I'm not getting back together with Morelli." I roll my eyes as my mother takes an aggrieved sip of her "iced" tea. I can tell my mother already knew the answer, but she had to hear it from my lips to let her dream of our wedding go. Morelli did an excellent job solidifying our breakup to the Burg at large.

"Then what's your backup plan? We all know that Ranger isn't ever going to put a ring on it!" My mom's look is even more pointed than her words. I haven't explicitly told my family Ranger and I are through since we were never technically a thing in the first place. My mom's observation, however, sends a pang through my heart. Was I the only one naive enough to hope for that elusive someday?

My father glances up over his mashed potatoes and sends me a pained look.

"I don't need a man, mom. I support myself just fine."

"Really? And just how well would you fare if your father and I were to cut off our support, huh? We aren't getting any younger, you know!" My mom's words are sharp, and Grandma, who has otherwise remained silent, sets her fork down.

"You're right, but I'm not going to quit my job," I say quietly. "Thank you for lending me the Buick, providing me meals, and helping with my laundry. However, I am not going to marry someone for financial security, mom. I need you to understand that."

"Stephanie," Grandma pipes in, joining this conversation for the first time, "you shouldn't. That Morelli is a horse's patoot and that Ranger doesn't know a good thing when he sees it."

"Thank you, Grandma." Grandma always has my back.

"But Stephanie, why won't you quit your job?" mom asks seriously. "I don't want to bury a daughter."

"Mom," I gasp, "I'm not going to. . ."

"Your mother's right." Three heads swivel toward my dad. "You are alive due to a combination of sheer luck and Joe and Ranger's help. You've cut Joe and Ranger out of your life. Fine. Do you think you can continue to bounty hunt on sheer luck alone?"

There's silence as my dad's words settle heavily around the table. My dad rarely interjects, and I wasn't sure he even cared about what I did with my life so long as it didn't delay dinner time. My dad obviously observed a lot more from the periphery than I gave him credit for.

"You're right. I'm sorry," I say, worrying my bottom lip. "I never thought about it that way."

"So, you'll quit?" my mom asks, hopefulness bleeding into every word.

"No, but I am making changes," I say affirmatively. "I like my job. Maybe not being Burg gossip fodder and having my cars blown up, but I like making the Burg safer. It makes me feel a bit like Wonder Woman, fighting for justice. However, you are right. I need to do my job more safely. I've already enrolled in a self-defense class and a firearms course. I gave notice to my landlord, and I'll be moving to a secure building at the end of the month." My mom's shoulders started to sag as this clearly wasn't what she was hoping to hear.

"Lastly, Harry is forcing Vinnie out of the bail bonds office."

At that, both my mom and Grandma looked fit to burst at this new piece of gossip.

"Harry found out about the duck."

Grandma squealed, and my mother crossed herself.

"I know you think I'm broke, but I live the way I do because of Dickie. I was saddled with his debt after the divorce, and it was devastating and humiliating. I never wanted to feel like I had nothing again. I had enough saved that I bought out Vinnie's fifty percent share of the bail bonds business. I took the certification course to become a bail bondsman and passed the exam. I received my license today. As of tomorrow, the business will be renamed SP Bail Bonds."

I look at my dad, and I see approval gleaming in his eyes for the first time in a long time.

"You're going to be a fine boss lady!" Grandma declares.

"Does this mean you'll be doing office work more and rolling around in the mud less?"

"Yes, mom. I'll be running the office, but I'll still go out from time to time," I caution.

"Praise the Lord! My prayers have been answered!" Mom jumps up, unable to contain her excitement, and hauls me up into a hug. Now, the Plums are not a physically demonstrative family, and this dinner has me turned upside down.

"Let's get the champagne!" Grandma declares, reaching into the pantry. My mom moves to help grandma before a POP! reverberates throughout the room.

"Edna!" my dad exclaims, wiping his face with his napkin as I fish the cork from his water glass. "That woman," he mutters with what might almost be affection.

"To Stephanie! Off the streets and into the office!" my mom toasts. "May the next time we do this be at your wedding!"

"Mom!" I sputter, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, a mom can hope. Miracles are already happening!"