Chapter 21: Her Step

Elio's flat was on the top floor of a harbor building, and Chiara had never seen it.

He had taken it the week she went into the clinic, and he had lived in it without unpacking.

There was a couch, a table and a kitchen with one cup in the drying rack.

Over the bed, in a plain black frame, hung a pencil drawing of a pier at sunset.

She stopped in the bedroom doorway and looked at it.

"I drew that," she said.

"You drew it the night after I proposed. You left it on the kitchen counter."

"You kept it."

"I brought it everywhere."

She had told him she remembered everything, and he had not once asked her to prove it.

He stood just inside the front door, three steps from her, with his hands at his sides.

"There are no cameras," he said. "I pulled the last one out of the old apartment this morning. The police have the box."

"I know. Taylor told me."

"I wanted you to hear it from me."

"I'm hearing it."

She put her coat on the back of the chair.

Her hands were not quite steady.

It had been three years since she had been touched by anyone who wanted her to be glad of it.

"Elio."

"Yes."

"Come here."

He crossed the room and stopped an arm's length away.

"Closer."

He stopped so close that his chest almost touched hers.

"The rule is over," Chiara said. "Three steps, no questions. I'm ending it. Tonight I make the rules."

"What are they?"

"You don't ask me for anything. I tell you."

His jaw tightened, and his eyes went dark.

"All right," he said.

She reached up and undid the top button of his shirt.

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