His hand shook a little when he spoke the question into the phone. There was no going back now.
“Chloe…are you, uh, planning to go to the cemetery any time soon?”
“Yeah, tomorrow actually…did you want to come with me?”
“Yeah…yeah, I think I’m ready now.” It sounded as though he was trying to reaffirm that to himself too. “Do you mind picking me up, though? Kind of feel like I need someone to hold me accountable.” He let out a small laugh of shame.
“Sure, I’ll head to the florist then pick you up at around seven? It should be dark by then. Also, did Michelle have a favourite flower? I’ll get you a bunch.”
His mind flashed back to her. The house they’d only been living in for a few months at the time of her death. Her kneeling at the front window, securing the colourful plants in place. What she lacked in culinary ability, she did compensate for in gardening, and well, everything else she did. She knew exactly how to place each flower, the exact proximity apart they needed to be so they wouldn’t block each other’s sunlight and die. The exact patterning of colours. White. Pink. Red. White. Pink. Red. That was the mantra she had repeated to herself. Of course with the blast of the bomb through the glass, and the fire that had followed, they would have likely been incinerated. Much the way Tony’s life had.
“Peonies. She liked peonies.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Bye Chloe.”
—
True to her word, her blue Prius rolled up outside Tony’s apartment at seven the next evening. The sky throughout the day had been an ominous charcoal grey. While it hadn’t rained yet, the weather reporter on the five o’clock news had spoken of an approaching storm with strong winds. General advice was to stay inside. The perfect night to go wandering through a graveyard.
They didn’t say all that much to each other on the way there. Just small talk, and avidly avoiding the subject of the people they were on the way to visit. She asked him how Sidra was. How the dead-end of the current assignment they were working on was going. If the flowers she bought were okay. And he played along, responding in short, simple sentences, asking equally innocuous questions to keep the conversation going.
It was quiet as the engine died down. Logically of course, most sane people don’t visit cemeteries at night, especially when a predictably bad storm was imminent. But then again, most sane people weren’t fugitives.
“Morris and Prescott are closer to the entrance, so we’ll go there first.”
He nodded as she lead the way. Lightning flashed overhead, causing Chloe to jump a little. There were small street lights around the border of the small cemetery, enough for the gravestones to be vaguely legible, but Chloe had the flash on her phone out anyway. Tony shielded the delicate bouquet from a harsh gust of wind with his black overcoat. He picked off a loose petal that had settled on his lapel. Eventually, she came to a stop. The thin oval of white light was stark against the granite. It was positioned between two head-stones, Tony squinted as he made out the names there. Morris on the left, Prescott on the right. He wondered if Chloe had already reserved a plot nearby, but something told him that between being captured by the CIA, and slowly trying to reestablish herself in America, she hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Tenderly, she knelt between them, dividing the lilac azaleas among the two graves. Lightning flashed again, the inscriptions on the two headstones now permanently burned into Tony’s mind. Seeing such a short span of time between Prescott’s birth and death turned his stomach. It reminded him that adults hadn’t been the only ones who’d suffered. Even with Michelle’s pregnancy being such a strong motivator for his revenge, such a great emotional tie, Tony at least knew his baby boy was still, and would forever be, safely nestled in her womb. There was something so chilling about the individual headstone, the knowledge that Chloe had had to buy a separate, little-boy-sized coffin just for him. A small part of him was at least grateful the planning of Michelle’s funeral was a burden he’d not had to deal with. Tony hadn’t needed to pick out a coffin and write a eulogy, he’d only needed to plan her vengeance. It hit him that responsibility of his and Michelle’s funerals had probably fallen to Chloe, or to Bill. Maybe even Kim. He mentally noted to ask about it later.
His train of thought was interrupted by the softest, sweetest words he’d ever heard falling from Chloe O’Brian’s mouth. She was angled slightly towards Morris’ grave. He couldn’t quite make out all of it over the wind. If Tony walked a little closer, he probably would be able to. But something about that felt intrusive. So he listened to the few sentences that made it to his ears.
“Hey honey, hope you’re okay. I’m sure it’s nice where you are. Not pouring with rain like it is here. The weather’s probably nice enough for you to play outside with Prescott every day…”
Tony realised that he had no idea what Chloe’s stance on faith was. What exactly her definition of ‘where you are’ referred to. Had she been brought up religious and abandoned it after too many unfortunate circumstances the way he had? Or maybe religion had been something she’d chosen to turn to after said unfortunate circumstances? Regardless, even the most religious people still tended to have their own personal envisions of what heaven, paradise, whatever, looked like. Somehow it made the person you were talking to seem a little closer. Of course Tony had never done this himself though. Yes, there’d been many deaths over the years, but none so close that Tony had visited the grave and had an explicit conversation with the deceased.
“I know I always say this, but thank you for taking care of him. Thank you for being there to raise him.”
He remembered how hard it was for Chloe to be away from her son when she had decided to work with Tony and Bill on taking down Dubaku. The late-night conversations and over-the-phone bedtime stories to Prescott, who he was only a few years old at the time. Tony remembered the tears falling down her face when a small cry of ‘I miss you mommy’ would come through the phone each and every time before she’d hang up.
She tilted herself to face the other headstone. Her voice was even gentler now.
“Hi sweetie…I, uh, I hope you’re being good for your dad up there. Better not be annoying him too much.”
Tony wondered how Chloe was holding it together. Most people barely kept their composure when talking to their loved ones in this way. He admired her strength, the fact that she had the ability to speak to a hunk of granite in the ground with the same generosity and warmth she would have used to speak to Prescott if he were alive.
Taking a big inhale, she continued, her voice now breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry I could never spend time with you because of work. If I’d known I’d lose you so soon, I would have found work somewhere else. I never would have left Los Angeles. I always say this, I know. But I mean it each and every time.”
He wondered how guilty she must be feeling. Not as guilty as him of course. No, the sins on Tony’s conscience would forever surmount anybody else’s. But he knew that Chloe would always punish herself for spending so much time away from Prescott. Tony wondered if Bill hadn’t enlisted her help, then maybe their family would still be whole.
“I love you so much, I think about you and your dad every single day. And I will for the rest of my life.” Slowly, she stood, patters of rain beginning to drop. “So, uh, I’ll see you both later.”
Tony was still taken aback by her softness. He realised just how much she’d let her guard down in this moment. Never in his years working with her had he ever seen the ever-annoyed and forthright Chloe O’Brian so emotional. She hadn’t broken down. She’d barely cried. But the sheer love radiating from her was evident.
Thunder rumbled overhead as they trudged towards Michelle’s grave. The mud was causing their shoes to sink slightly, making their sombre movements that much more sluggish. Tony snickered. “We chose the perfect night, didn’t we?”
She laughed through her nose. “Well actually, it was supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows tomorrow, didn’t think that was the mood we were going for.”
It was true. Somehow the weather manifesting the emotions within them made them feel just a little less alone.
Although Chloe had stopped in front of what he presumed was Michelle’s grave, she had directed her flashlight to the gravestone directly adjacent to it.
“Guess another guy moved in.” The crisp, off-white marble headstone belonging to one Jane Forester was clearly much newer than its neighbours. It took Tony a minute to realise what Chloe was referring to. Then it hit him like a slap to the face. This was where he was supposed to be buried. But obviously with the FBI exhuming his grave, and his subsequent arrest in Washington, they’d assumed he wasn’t going to be dying in Los Angeles anymore. A part of him wanted to fix it, go reserve a new plot so he could still be close to her as they’d wanted it to be. Another part of him revelled in the loss. Told him that he didn’t deserve to be near her after the things he’d done.
She gave him space to stand in front, stabilising the light from her phone so he could see her headstone. Chloe watched his hand tremble, as he placed the elegantly white flowers on the ground. The rain was falling in a gentle stream. making distinct, little circles on the feather-grey slab.
“So, uh, I don’t exactly know how this works, but I’m assuming you’re up there, cradling our little boy in your arms. I’m sure he’s beautiful.” He sniffled. “Sometime, I try to imagine what he might have looked like, but I never feel like I’m doing him justice. You’re probably standing on the edge of some cloud, wearing a white dress, and I know, I know, you’re still just as gorgeous as the day they took you both away from me.”
Her heart broke a little as he spoke, his voice sounding so shattered, expressing the way she knew he’d felt and continued to feel all these years. Come to think of it, he probably never even had the chance to grieve. Not properly anyway. Emerson had essentially forced him to exert his pain as rage, and by the time she and Bill had found him, they’d been so committed to the mission, the pain had still been likely shoved on the back-burner.
“I don’t know if you know the stuff I’ve done, part of me really hopes you haven’t. But I’m sorry. Baby…I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” Tony fell to his knees, the mud squelching a little as it made contact with his pants. Thunder grumbled again, louder this time. Rain poured down, the way tears poured from Tony’s eyes. Even in the dark, Chloe could tell he was practically convulsing. His fingers gripped the soggy grass as though it would stabilise the anguish coursing through him. Shuddering breaths escaped his mouth. His head was facing the ground, as though he were too ashamed to look at her headstone.
Chloe knelt behind him, pressing her lips into a thin line. He didn’t draw back when her gloved hand found itself between his shoulder blades, making small, comforting circles. She was close enough to smell the dampness of his wool coat. Her straight hair felt heavy, she was certain the rain had completely drenched it by now. Chloe reminded herself to wring it out before she got in the car.
Tony continued to cry out over the thunder as if speaking too quietly would prevent Michelle from hearing him. “I-I shouldn’t have let those bastards manipulate me. I sold out. I threw away everything you and I ever worked for. Especially you. And for that, for all the things I’ve done, I know it means I’ll never see you again. That’s how it works, right?” He sniffed. “Good people go to Heaven, bad people don’t?” Tony inhaled sharply. “God, forgive me, please.”
She looked at his face, wet with the rain, wet with tears. His body still trembled beneath her hand. Trembled with cold, trembled with emotion. His curled hair stuck to his face, but he made no effort to push it away. Chloe knew that Tony, as much as he hadn’t admitted it at the time, always felt at least some remorse for his actions. Much the way Jack did. No matter how much they isolated themselves, no matter how much of a scary face they put on, both of them were deeply riddled with regret. But it wasn’t until now that she understood just how much he’d been flagellating himself. And how much had been kept inside, waiting to gush out of him. How lonely he must have felt, having no one to talk to. David had only served to manipulate him, and as for her and Bill, they hadn’t exactly had the time to sit around and talk about their feelings.
“You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you. And while you might not have had the best reaction, I don’t think anybody can blame you either. When I used to update Jack,” she sounded so reverent when his name left her lips, “he always seemed so happy to know you were doing okay. I think that’s all he ever wanted for you two. He wanted to see you both make it out of CTU alive and raise your family safely. That’s what you deserved. A long, happy life far away from all of this.” Chloe spoke softly, her undertone a little pained, as he continued to weep. She wasn’t surprised when a few teardrops ran down her own cheek. It was almost as if she were telling herself a little too. Lord knows Chloe still needed the reassurance that she didn’t deserve to suffer the way she had. She had blamed herself for years for Morris and Prescott’s accident, only to find out from Adrian’s dying breath that there was no reason to have done so.
The mention of Jack triggered more pain for Tony, a loud sob escaping his throat. He was no longer just grieving for Michelle and their son. The memories of every person he’d ever had to say goodbye to flooded through Tony like a tsunami. Family members. Teri. George. Paula. Ryan. Morris and Prescott. Larry. Bill. Even Jack. Albeit still alive, Tony allowed himself to grieve for Jack, because Jack was maybe one of the only people who’d been through so much of the same pain, the same heartache as he had, yet Jack was the one who was furthest away right now. At some point, Tony stopped crying. He suspected it was because no liquid in his body remained. Chloe felt his body stop shaking, the thump of his heart slowly easing itself back to a normal rate. When she felt the time was right, when she felt as though he were stable and present again, Chloe wordlessly pulled him to his feet.
They walked back to the car in silence, Chloe leading the way, Tony trailing behind her, his footsteps heavy with burden. She listened to the patter of water on the concrete as the excess moisture fell from her hair. Grumbling, since she only had her car cleaned a few days ago, Chloe shuffled a little to scrape some of the excess dirt from her sneakers. Tony, feeling slightly abashed at the mud coating his jeans and shoes, followed suit. It was still pounding down with rain as they shut the doors. She was a little startled when he spoke.
“The day they revived me, the day I woke up at Emerson’s warehouse… I should have just put a bullet through my skull. Nearly did, actually. I-I just wanted everyone to leave me alone, I just wanted to die in peace. But you know why I didn’t?”
Chloe tilted her head.
“Because growing up Catholic, they told me suicide was a sin, that I wouldn’t go to Heaven if I did.” He let out a slight chortle, almost insulting himself for trying to sound so morally conscious. “But if I could go back in time…that’s all I’d do. My biggest regret. The one thing I wish I could change…was that.” His voice turned to a mumble. ”Not like I’ll be going to Heaven now.”
“You still did so much work undercover with them, without that we wouldn’t have gotten to Dubaku. Staying alive was worth it.”
He shook his head. “I’m sure you and Bill would have found another way.”
Knowing that any reply she could formulate would simply sound patronising, Chloe simply started up the car, and took off.
—
She rolled up outside his apartment after another period of silence. There wasn’t much to say, really. A click indicated she’d unlocked the doors.
Tony was still looking down at his lap. “Thank you. I don’t think I could have done it alone.”
Smiling a little, Chloe nodded. “Of course.”
He returned her smile, just ever-so, as he stepped out of the car, the rain letting up as he opened the door to his apartment.
Sidra had been on edge since Tony had told her he was finally going to the cemetery. She knew that with Chloe there it’d be a little easier for him, but she also knew there would be suppressed feelings that wouldn’t come out until he was alone. When the door finally opened, then immediately shut with a slam, not because he was angry, but because the wind had beat him to it, she looked up, concerned. His eyes were completely bloodshot, he moved with an exhaustion only characterisable by emotional outpour, and when he met her gaze, all she saw was lament.
“Hey…” She spoke weakly.
He simply gave her a small nod, and dragged his feet to the kitchen. Sidra’s breath hitched in her chest. She knew about his history with drinking, and worried whether finally seeing his wife’s grave would trigger a relapse. After all, it wasn’t as though they didn’t keep alcohol in the house. But much to her relief, and also to her pride for him, he simply poured himself a glass of water, before making his way to the laundry. Presumably to take off the mud-soaked pants he was wearing. The shower starting up magnified the soundscape of raindrops she’d immersed herself in throughout the evening. A few moments later, she heard the mattress creak as he got into the bed. Sidra felt a pang when she found him curled, almost in a foetal position, facing the window. Moisture settled on her lips as she pressed them to the back of his still-wet hair, before trailing a hand down his back, and lying down beside him.
—
“No, Farah…Farah….Farah!” The woman screamed, planting her palms on the cream sheets, sitting upright with a jolt. Sighing, she ran a hand over her face, then through her knotted, dark hair.
“Your sister again?” Tony asked, calmly.
Sidra let out a huff. “Yeah, sorry if I woke you.”
He shrugged, half-heartedly. “Not like I never wake you with mine.” Tony hadn’t slept much that night anyway. Normally he loved falling asleep to the drum of raindrops against the window. But he still felt so numb, so restless.
Lying back down, she curled into his side. Instinctively, he moved his arm so she could rest her head in the crook of his elbow and he could pull her closer. He stroked her forearm repetitively, a placid reminder of his presence. Unlike Tony, who had only the one recurring nightmare of reliving his wife’s, and what he wished had been his, final moments, Sidra had the joy of several. Sometimes it would be the final glimpse of her sister’s face before an air-strike obliterated their family home. Sometimes it was the petrified face of her fiancé, who had also been in the military, right before a hailstorm of bullets penetrated through her. He could normally tell based on whoever’s name she was shouting. There were others though, ones she didn’t talk about, and Tony respected that enough not to ask.
Although she generally presented herself as cold and ruthless, Tony knew that just like anybody, Sidra had a vulnerable side. When she’d wake like this in the middle of the night, it would come through. It was subtle, though. He saw it in the way she slowly, almost apologetically snaked an arm around his waist to feel nearer to him. It was the way she’d silently let him push her hair away from her face. Most of all it was the way her hyperventilation would dissipate as she felt the warmth of his body beneath hers. While he’d never say it aloud, the last time he’d called her a pet-name, Sidra had punched him right on a bruise that she definitely knew hadn’t healed yet, it was times like these, where they’d simply nestle in each other’s arms, that he felt the most affection for her.
“You know, tonight had me thinking…”
She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes full of adoration. He’d always chastise himself for the comparison, but her eyes really did remind him of Michelle’s sometimes. Not in shape, Michelle’s had been a little rounder, but in colour, in depth, in the way he felt as though they stared into his soul. Even in Nina, her incisiveness was presented mainly by her eyes. What could he say? He had a type.
“Once this job’s done, did you want to take a trip to Israel, just the two of us? Tonight…took a lot out of me, but it gave me closure I didn’t think I still needed. I just feel like you deserve a chance to get that closure too.”
“They’re not exactly in a nice cemetery, I’m pretty sure whatever’s left of them is just buried under the rubble, I-I don’t think I want to know what I’d find.” Sidra sighed through her nose. “And besides. It’s too much of a risk, if we were seen, they’d kill us on sight. I don’t want you to die because of me, especially if you do eventually plan to go to Russia and break your other friend out.”
Sidra had taken somewhat of a liking to Chloe, particularly when she found out how efficient she was as an employee. She still referred to her as his ‘friend’ though, seldom by name. Their bluntness made both of them more alike than Tony realised.
She bit her lip, wishing the circumstances were different. “But I do appreciate it.”
“What about something here? We could light some candles, say some prayers, whatever you feel like would help.”
Again, she seemed to disagree, a little reluctantly though, by squirming against him. “I’m hardly religious anymore, you know that.”
“I get it, I know, but, just think about it a little, alright? If you want to do anything, I’m here. Whatever you want, we’ll do it.” He kissed her forehead. “I just want to help. You shouldn’t have to grieve alone.”
Mumbling that she would, Sidra turned her face into his torso, allowing fatigue to pass over her, and silently hoped she’d sleep through the rest of the night.
—
The smell of coffee wafted into their bedroom. He’d already woken it seemed. Stifling a yawn, Sidra walked out to find him at the breakfast bar, laptop already open, eating a piece of toast.
“Morning.” She murmured, resting her chin on the back of his head, her hands trailing down his shoulders.
“Morning.” He leaned into her touch. “It’s just brewed.”
Nodding her thanks, she poured herself a cup, picking a piece of fruit from the bowl, and a granola bar, moving to stand across from him. Silently, they enjoyed each other’s company.
“I really appreciate what you offered me last night. Means a lot.” Sidra admitted quietly.
He smiled at her, looking up from the computer.
“I know seeing her grave wrecked you yesterday.” She never liked to mention Michelle by name, somehow it was less painful for him. Somehow it put distance between him and her death. “But I also know you won’t be able to heal properly if you don’t go back and talk to her. I know we tend to go all over the place for jobs, and travelling’s part of the fun and luxury for us, but… if you want to make LA, or at least California home, so you can be close to her, I understand.”
His eyes widened at that.
“So much of your life is here, you’ve still got people left you want to see. I don’t. As long as we still see some action, and as long as we’re careful, we can stay if it makes you happy.”
“Really? You’d be willing to stay?”
Sidra gave a shy grin. “I like it here anyway. And let’s not kid ourselves,” she cleared her throat, “we’re not in love with each other.” He raised an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes, as if to indicate she wasn’t finished speaking. “We’re not using each other to fill a void left behind by those we’ve lost. Sure, we use each other for different things. Work, sex, comfort, getting honeymoon discounts when we travel.” He smirked at that. “We care about each other because we’re broken.” She looked down into her coffee, speaking softly. “We’re never not going to be broken. A part of you will always ache for the little boy you never got to raise, and a part of me will always ache for the woman I never got to marry.” Sidra took a deep breath. “So if I can help you be a little less broken, then that’s enough for me.”
Tony reached out to clasp her hand on the cool marble, brushing his thumb over her smooth skin, before leaning in to kiss her. She could taste the coffee on his breath. “Thank you.” He whispered hoarsely.
She was shocked, scared, and confused all at once. Precisely the reaction Tony thought would be expressed.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t call the cops on you.” Kim shouted over the whipping breeze. She’d had no idea where Chloe was taking her that morning. All Chloe did tell her was not to tell anybody else where they were going. A meeting with Tony Almeida was the last thing she had expected to arrive at.
He stepped in to grab the phone from her hand, just in case she was ballsy enough to do it anyway. And he knew she was. Kim backed away immediately, the fear evident in her eyes.
“Because I want to talk to you.”
A crease formed in her brow. “After believing that you’d be rotting away in a prison cell for the rest of your life, which by the way, I still think you should be, you bust yourself out so you can talk to me?”
“Yeah Kim, it’s nice to see you too.” He rolled his eyes.
“Kim…” Chloe interjected, giving that thin-lipped smile she always gave. “Give him a chance. I-I was angry when I found out he broke out too, but I’ve talked to him, and I’m…actually working with him now.”
“Doing what?” Her voice jumped an octave.
“I run a mercenary group. We go about exposing all the government corruption that otherwise would go unnoticed. Including the corruption that hurt us, and you.”
Kim quirked a brow at him. “And Chloe’s been helping with that?”
“He’s telling the truth, we really are just trying to uncover all the lies and scandals so people can put their faith in the government again.” Chloe pleaded.
She tutted a little. “Even if you are trying to be Robin Hood or something, what makes you think I’m going to forgive you now? You nearly had me and my dad killed, after everything he did for you!”
Tony sighed. “Look…I have done terrible, unforgivable things, believe me, I know. And I’m sorry I got so caught up in my revenge that I put you in danger and betrayed your father. Believe me, I never wanted to hurt you or him. I can’t even get over the fact that after everything that happened that day he still testified so I wouldn’t get the death penalty.” He looked down at the ground. “I know it’s too late for me to undo any of my actions. I’m not here to demand you to let me back into your life. In fact, for your safety you probably shouldn’t.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I’ve always thought of you as like a niece, since the beginning. Michelle always said if we had a daughter, she hoped she’d be just as strong and kind as you.” Her expression softened a little. “And I want to make up for what your dad’s been through by helping you.”
Kim’s guard immediately came up again. “I don’t need your pity.” She folded her arms, glaring at him, much the way her father would. “Believe it or not, I’m used to him being gone.”
“Now that I’m in LA, and probably will be for a while, I’m just trying to make amends here. I’m trying to work through my emotions and my pain, the way I should have from the beginning. So…here’s this.”
He handed her a small envelope. She noticed how rough and calloused his hands were, the faded outline of a round scar on the web between his thumb and forefinger. With the distance between them a little smaller, she saw the authenticity in his eyes. Despite the surrounding changes, the new marks, bruises, wrinkles, other signs of age and of hardship, he was still the same Tony Almeida. The Tony Almeida who was there for her when her father couldn’t be. The Tony Almeida that bought groceries for her and Jack when he was too grief-stricken to get out of bed. The Tony Almeida that went over to Chase’s house after he broke up with her and gave him a piece of his mind. The Tony Almeida that always came through on his promise of any time, any day, if you need something, I’ll come. Peeling the adhesive back, she found the envelope to be filled with a neat stack of hundred dollar notes.
“What is this, drug money?” Kim asked, Tony unable to tell if she was being sarcastic.
“Actually, money from a senator who enlisted me to get evidence that a colleague of hers had been sexually harassing several interns. Got him to admit his guilt, evidence was entered into court, he’s behind bars now.”
Kim tried to hide the approval on her face. “Why me, though?”
“I don’t need half the money I make.” Tony sighed. “To see you happy, to see your family happy, it would mean so much to me. It would give me some sense of hope to know that someone made it out of CTU and still managed to live the rest of her life relatively okay. So put it on your mortgage, the kids’ college funds, whatever. Just put it to good use.”
She smirked in appreciation, before looking up at him, her piercing blue eyes staring into him. “This is too much really, I don’t need it, don’t worry yourself so much over me.”
He looked at her compassionately. “I’m never not going to worry about you. No matter how old you are. You’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a daughter. I promised your dad I’d look out for you, and I intend to keep that promise.”
Again, she smiled at him, her tension abating a little. “For the record, I am sorry about Michelle. I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you that. And I’m sorry you had to go through so much of the same crap my dad did.”
Tony tilted his head in acknowledgement. It didn’t matter how many years later it was, every condolence still meant so much to him.
“I’m sorry too, not just for uh, the really bad stuff I’ve done, but part of me has always blamed myself for not saving your mom.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe if I hadn’t been going out with Nina, my judgement would have been less clouded and I could have stopped her in time.”
Kim flinched at Nina’s name, but followed it with a shake of her head.
“You and my dad I swear, both of you blamed yourselves so much for that. I’ve read through that file, more times than I’d like to admit. I don’t think anybody could have seen what she did coming.”
He was a little taken aback by her maturity. The fact that so much tranquil wisdom and reassurance could be articulated by someone who’d suffered so much. “I think that self-blame was what drove both of us to pieces. It wasn’t just the big things, like the people we’d lost, it was all the little things too that were eating us up inside.” His voice dwindled a little. “Michelle’s death was just the final straw for me, just like Renee’s was for your dad.”
Their stoic silence was interrupted by the ring of Kim’s phone in her handbag.
“Shit. Sorry.” As she quickly pilfered through her bag to answer it, Tony moved towards Chloe. She smiled at him. “You did good. Definitely could have been worse.”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “Could have called the cops on me.”
“That was Stephen, I really have to go.” She narrowed her eyes at Chloe, playfully. “He’s a little worried since I didn’t tell him where I was going today.”
Chloe put her hands on her hips. “Well would you have believed me if I had told you?”
Kim snickered. “Probably not.”
Turning to face Tony, a bittersweet expression fell across her face. “Look…as much as I appreciate this, I-I don’t think it’s right for the kids to see you.” His face fell a little. “At least not for now.” She quickly reassured him. “It’s not that I don’t want you around them, I know in some ways it’s helped Chloe and I wouldn’t want to take that away from you. But on the off-chance one of the kids drops your name at school, I don’t think it’d be too difficult for someone to figure out who ‘Uncle Tony’ is.” Kim grimaced, but a half-smile crept up his face. The last time someone had called him that had been one of Michelle’s nieces or nephews. He had forgotten how much he missed it. “And if you’re really trying to do some good work now, I’d hate for you to wind up in jail before you get the chance.”
“No, no I get that. That’s fine.”
“But, uh, here.” Unlocking the phone still in her hand, she angled it so the glare wouldn’t obscure his vision. He squinted a little before grinning at the image she was showing him. It was her, Stephen, and the kids. Judging by the offensively bright and cheerful surroundings, he figured it had been taken around the holidays.
He laughed through his nose. “They’re beautiful. Really. Wish your dad could have been around to see them too.”
She sighed, wistfully. “Don’t we all.”
Tony examined the picture closer. “They’ve both got your mom’s eyes.”
“Yeah…I get that one a lot. People don’t see too much of my dad in them, I think it only comes out when they’re angry.”
They laughed at that. A good, proper laugh, something that only came about once in a blue moon for them.
“So, uh, I’ll see you next time? I don’t know what kind of system we’ll be having here, but…yeah.”
Tony was a little surprised by, but completely welcome to the hug she gave him. Pulling back from the hug, he looked at her with fondness. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out.”