Chapter 20 Gideon spent a month in the hospital. He drifted in and out. Each time he woke to the empty room, it felt as if something had been cut from his chest and the hollow would not stop aching. He remembered the shock in Angela's eyes before she steadied, her hands hot with his blood. Had she come back? Had any of this moved her at all? He got his answer the day they let him get out of bed and move a little. Angela walked in. She wore a plain cotton shirt and looked thinner than before. Her eyes were clear. Her face was calm. She set a small sack of fruit on the bedside table and stood at the foot of the bed, keeping a measured distance. His heart jerked. He tried to push upright and set the wound on fire, coughing until his face went red. He stared at her, the hard lines of his gaze melted into something raw and hopeful. When he spoke, the words scraped. "Angela... you came. I know I'm late to every truth. Please... give me a chance. Let me spend what's left of my life making it right. I'll spend the rest of my life being good to you.' >> She listened as if the story belonged to someone else. When he caught his breath, she said, steady as a deep, cold lake, "You saved me. I'm grateful. If not for you, I might be dead. I won't forget it." Light flared in his eyes. Her next words snuffed it. "We're even now. Saving my life settles what you owed. I don't hate you anymore, but I can't take you back. A smashed mirror doesn't mend. Spilled water doesn't climb into the cup. Between us lies ten years of love I fed to the dogs and a ledger of injuries you wrote in your own hand. It's too long and too deep. There's no going back." She pulled a thick envelope from her bag and set it beside the fruit. "This covers what I advanced for the ER -and a little extra. Take care of yourself." She turned and left without a backward glance. Her steps were crisp and sure, breaking the last filaments of his wishful thinking as she walked toward a future that would not include him. His hand hung in the air. The door swung shut. Wind howled through what felt like an empty house inside him. There were tears in his eyes from the coughing, but not a single tear of remorse. Meanwhile, the world outside was changing beyond recognition. Newspapers and radio talked of deregulation, enterprise zones, and the pull of the Sunbelt. Houston, Dallas, Miami-the names gleamed with a new heat. Angela went back to her rented room, looked at the gray sky and the railroad horns in the distance, and felt a hunger for a different life break ground. If she stayed in this northern city, she would repeat what she'd already survived-count scars and wait for a safe choice that would lock her into a life she could see to the end. That wasn't for her. The South-unknown, risky, loud with opportunity-drew like a magnet. No one knew her there. The past could stay where it belonged. She could start from zero. She took a breath and set her jaw. She scraped together her savings and bought a southbound train ticket. Destination-Houston. Florence Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She's also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.