“I don’t know. It’s like…” She hesitates. Her fingers brush her arm, restless. “Like we recognize the same damage in each other. Different wounds, but… same ache.”
“We’re a hell of a pair,” I mutter. “Crime boss and fertility doctor. It’s a setup for a bad joke.”
“What’s the punchline?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Olivia smiles, and it transforms her entire face. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe some jokes don’t need punchlines.”
“Everything needs an ending, Olivia.”
“Does it?”
The yacht rocks gently beneath us, and I realize we’ve been standing here for minutes, just looking at each other.
She must realize it, too, because she half-turns away from me to look out the window again. But I despise the silence and the sadness in her eyes. I’m not done with this yet. Revealing scars. Showing each
