The cold, unfeeling letters against the stone make me glad to have asked Gian to come with me to visit Tommy. I asked him to come with me, and I’ll go into Tommy’s room alone. My fingers feel safe inside Gian’s.

“Welcome to Sutherland Rehabilitation Facilities,” a woman in lavender scrubs greets us at reception.

“Hi,” I say with a little shake in my voice. Gian puts his other hand to the small of my back. “I’m Lucy Tomlinson, here to see Thomas Tomlinson, my brother.” I already feel less stressed and more excited because I want to see his face. I've never gone so long without seeing my brother’s face. I took care of him.

I’m glad someone else, a professional, or a team of them by the upscale looks of these facilities, was able to take care of Tommy for me. For a second I feel a brush of guilt, but I know that I need to let myself have my own life.

A strange life that is nothing like what I pictured for myself…but that’s the strange thing. Until my bother was taken care of, I had never really imagined what my life might look like if I could choose. When I thought I wanted to run far away from Gian, I imagined that my brother and I would go live boring lives in some small town until we were creaky and old.

But now I've quit my job at the diner, and I don’t have my apartment anymore. I have a friend. A probably married boyfriend. My life isn’t anything like what I imagined. But now I have hope and the possibility to figure out just what I want that to be.

And the idea that someone else is married to Gian sours everything in my stomach instantly. The weight of it hits me and when I’m following the nurse to Tommy’s room, I look back at Gian with pleading eyes as he sits down in the waiting area at reception.

Maybe I can’t have the one thing I never knew that I wanted because Gian must belong to someone else.

I feel so stupid. I can’t be thinking about this now. What if the worry reads all over my face and it upsets Tommy, who has already been through so much?

I inhale deeply and look at the closed door the nurse leaves me at.

I walk in with a smile on my face. Tommy looks clean and well taken care of, but he looks utterly exhausted. He also looks pissed when he sees me, which takes me aback.

“Luce, I can’t believe you let that asshole throw me in this place,” Tommy says, gritting his teeth and looking up at me with narrowed eyes. “And if you’re fucking him, I don’t want to believe that either. But I can’t believe I’m finally sober,” Tommy says and I hear his voice crack. “I feel like I haven’t seen myself or my own life in years, Luce, thank you so much. But there’s something that I have to tell you,” Tommy says, reaching out for my hand.

I sit down in the chair next to his bed and hold his hand. It feels warm and clean and makes me breathe so much easier.

“Lucy, Giancarlo Sandoval’s crazy wife and this other dude I owed money to, this biker Luke Gravos, they wanted me to kill their husbands. They were promising to erase my debts and make me a wealthy man,” Tommy says this, and I see him searching my eyes for something.

My reaction? To see if I knew this already?

I can’t breathe for a second and I’m so confused.

The note…it wasn’t about how he owed Gian more than anyone else. It was because that’s who these women wanted him to cross off first. The idea of Gian being hurt terrifies me. The idea that someone who should care about him — whoever this wife of his is — orchestrating the hurt kills me. And Tommy, a killer? That’s almost too much for me to handle and I can’t say anything right now. I should. My lips part and nothing comes out.

“I just wanted to give us a better life, Luce. I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t exactly say no to them. But…Gian told me that it has been taken care of. He told me yesterday, on the phone, he told me everything.” Tommy squeezes my hand again. “Lucy, do you trust Giancarlo Sandoval? Can we trust this guy?”

I don’t know much about these deals, but I know that I can trust Gian. No matter my doubts or the dumb fights we've had, no matter how strange our courtship was if you would even call it that, I know I can trust Gian. I feel it deeper in my bones than I’ve ever felt anything before in my life. “Yes, I trust Gian. I love him,” I say, finally looking at Tommy.

Tears are welling in my eyes and when Tommy pulls me into his arms, I’m so grateful. I can’t believe that only a few weeks ago, Tommy was strung out, I was barely able to pay for my box of an apartment, and I had no friends in the world.

Gian told me that he was going to keep me forever.

I know he wanted to tell me about his wife — I know that he was going to tell me something before, after I was dancing with Margo, and I didn’t let him. It must've been easy to hold me and not say anything, because now the sadness I saw in his eyes makes so much sense.

“Tommy, I’m so glad you’re doing better. I’m going to visit you every day. I know you’ll be out of here soon and you can do anything you want. You’re free,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek.

Tommy releases me and squeezes my hand before letting me go. “I still feel like I want to sleep for a thousand years…even though it's been like I was sleepwalking through life. But do me a favor. Don’t visit me. Enjoy having your own life, and then when I’m out of here, we can spend actual time together. I…I need time to decompress everything from the last seven years, to be honest. I haven’t been dealing with it like you have at all.”

I purse my lips together. I want to argue with that, but I also want to give him what he’s asking for. Tommy deserves this. He’s asking me to leave him alone, but it isn’t like all the other times.

“You know how to call if you need me. If you need anything,” I say, standing up. I’ll give him his space. “I love you, brother,” I tell Tommy. Walking out of that room is difficult, but an enormous weight on my shoulders is lifted, too. For the first time in my life, I know that my brother is going to be okay.

I know that I’m going to be okay.

I walk back out and see a downtrodden look on Gian’s face. He knows that I know the truth. He expects me to be angry.

“The next time I dance, I’d like to not have a terrible ending,” I break the silence.

It's a question in a way. If Gian doesn’t say something about how he’s not going to have that, well then I know that Gian has done so much good for me, but I need to be free of him. But what really makes me feel free is being with him.

“You can have absolutely anything you want,” Gian says, and I hear the emotion thick in his voice. “I thought my wife, Terry, I thought she loved me a long time ago. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone else,” he says.

I wrap my arm around Gian’s neck and kiss him. “But you did?” I ask in a whisper quiet voice.

“I have,” Gian says, kissing my nose.

“Thank you for everything,” I say. I don’t want to rehash everything right now. I just want to go home. And home? Home is wherever Gian is.