Page 77 of Devious Roses
As he vents now, it’s obvious he’s been holding in his frustrations for a long time. With not just me, but Delphine too.
Once he’s done, he lets out a shuddering breath and then pulls off his glasses to wipe them.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I went off. But… but it’s hard, Psycho. It’s hard watching you two suffer. I just want you to be happy, you know?”
“The guilt,” I say. “I can’t deal with it, Francis.”
“Mrs. Phi is a big girl. She’s capable of making up her mind who she wants to be with. She’s chosen youknowingthe risks your lifestyle brings. We’ll continue protecting the fuck out of her at every moment, but you’ve got to let go. You’ve got to accept you’ll never be able to control it all. We’re all human. We’re fucking mortals. Why not enjoy the time we do have?”
I don’t answer Stitches.
Mostly because he’s challenged my mindset enough that I’m rethinking it.
I leave him outside in the courtyard as I head back into the hospital. The RN I’ve been dealing with spots me from behind the nurse’s desk and flags me down.
“Mr. Mancino, your wife’s ready for visitors,” she says. “She’s doing well. Banged up but well. The doctor was able to remove the bullet fragments during surgery, but because it struck some bone, the humerus has been partially fractured. Her left shoulder will be out of commission for some time. But with physical therapy and proper care, she’ll make a full recovery.”
I nod my thank you as we reach Delphine’s hospital room. She’s sitting up on the bed, her whole left arm and shoulder bandaged in a sling. Her normally radiant brown skin is bruised a deep purple and blue. Colors I recognize well from the many bruises I’ve sustained throughout my life.
Seeing them on her, decorating her throat, shoulder, and collarbone, only brings the heavy guilt back. Stitches said she’s made her own choice to be with me, but how can I continue allowing this? How can I keep subjecting my wife to these kind of injuries?
“Jon,” she says softly when I don’t move. I’ve stayed near the door. “Jon, come here.”
Her voice sounds so small. She looks so fucking fragile.
She’s anything but—deep down I’m aware of this—she was shot point blank andstillmanaged to stay conscious enough to grab a gun and return fire to two of Renzo’s men. She killed one of them. My wife is strong and capable. She’s withstood things that would’ve broken most people.
But that doesn’t make it any easier seeing her like this.
It doesn’t mean I’m affected any less emotionally seeing her sitting bruised and seriously injured on a hospital bed. Her eyes shine with a watery quality to them as she looks at me, like she’s on the verge of tears. Not sad tears. More so overwhelmed.
She’s reached her fill. Now that I’m here, she needs to let it out. That’s what I see in her eyes—a silent plea for me to hold her so she can release what she’s bottling up.
I go to her in a fast stride, engulfing her in my arms with gentle care for her injured shoulder.
“Phi, I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper, burying my face in her hair. “I wish I could’ve stopped him. It should’ve been me.”
She presses her face into my chest and lets me hold her for an indeterminate amount of time. We’re locked into our embrace and savoring the feel of each other. Just being for a moment.
“They were going to kill you,” she mumbles. “I remembered the gun in the cabinet. I had to go for it.”
“You saved my life.” I pull back enough to frame her face in my hands. “You are everything, Phi. You continue to amaze me. And worry me to death.”
Her eyes remain watery, though her lips quirk. “I love you.”
“I love you too… which is why I can’t let today happen again. I can’t keep putting you in these types of situations.”
“I sought Polk out. Renzo showed up. You had no way of—”
“He was after you because he was after me. It doesn’t matter where he showed up. He was always going to kidnap you. The location didn’t matter.”
“Then what are you saying?”
I husk out a deep breath and drop my hands from her face. “I don’t know anymore. Francis and I were talking. I was telling him you were safer without me.”
It takes a second for Delphine to understand what I’m insinuating. The instant she does, she’s launching into protests that I quickly shut down.
“You want to be with me,” I say over her. “But that isn’t enough to get rid of the guilt I have.”