This isn’t the first time I’ve been given this offer.

I stare down at the sheet I’m about to sign. But I can’t even wrap my head around it. I can only think about her. It’s been ten days since the hearing, and every day I’m filled with regret.

I needed to do it for her though. I thought I was going away for fifty years. I couldn't let her even consider waiting for me. She would have, my sweet angel. I know she would have. And I don’t want that life for her. She deserves a man who will be there for her, someone to give her children and a life worth living.

With this deal, I can be that man for her. It’ll be a few years. But I can give her that, if she’ll wait for me. If she wants me.

“You aren’t promising millions of dollars this time though, so maybe it’s more believable,” I say without any humor in my voice as I tap the pen against the table.

“You’ll be heavily compensated for your enrollment in the program,” the man in the suit, Mr. Smith, says. A Mr. Thomas was the one who offered me and James the deal that got me into this shit.

“It’s three years overseas, or fifty years in jail.” Mr. Smith stands up from the table, straightening out his tie. “Your choice.”

* * *

I leave tomorrow. A plane’s going to take me to Nepal and then god knows where else. For the next three years of my life, I’ll be doing the government’s bidding. Making up for my past crimes.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says. I’m quick to get out and pull out my wallet.

I pay the tab, giving him an extra ten in cash and turn to look at the building.

It’s her house.

I have one night of freedom. They gave me a single night, and I came straight here.

I never told her how I felt. I didn’t get a chance to explain anything. I shove my hand in my pocket and feel the note I wrote her.

It’s an apology for everything I’ve done.

A confession of how I feel about her.

And a promise to come back.

I walk slowly up the steps, my confidence slipping as I get closer. I don't know that she'll want me, but I have to tell her everything.

I hear her small voice as I come up to the front porch.

There’s a porch swing and a huge window behind it. The window's open, and the thin curtains don’t do anything to obstruct my view. I can see right inside. My eyes focus on her.

The beast that’s been pacing inside of me since the hearing settles when I see her, my angel. She has a way about her that does that to me. She tames and calms me.

She looks beautiful in simple grey sweats and a pale pink tank top. Her ankles are crossed as she sits at a dining room table. Her hair’s in a loose bun on top of her head.

She looks so relaxed and at home. She looks… normal. My heart speeds up as she turns to the window. I move out of sight as fast as I can, afraid she saw me. But she doesn’t say anything.

“It’s going to be alright, Olivia. We’re here to help you,” a woman’s voice says. That must be her mother.

Olivia clears her throat as I peek back inside. I finally get a look at her face. She’s so sad. She has bags under her eyes, and her lips are turned down. She’s not okay.

“You don’t understand,” she says quietly.

“Well, tell me then. Please.” Her mother’s voice cracks and she sniffles, picking up a napkin to wipe under her eyes. My heart shatters in my chest. I'm feeling like a million splinters are stabbing me in every direction. This is my fault.

“You don’t tell any of us anything.” Her father’s voice is hard.

“Harold, stop it,” her mother snaps. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Olivia’s quiet. She doesn’t respond. She sets her fork down and pushes the plate away.

“You need to eat, baby.” Her father’s voice is low and non-threatening.

They care about her. They’re trying to help her. They’re going to heal her when I can’t.

Heal her pain that I caused.

I close my eyes and clench my fists.

What the fuck am I even doing here? I did this to her.

I crumple the note in my pocket and lower my head. I watch my feet move as I walk through the yard and down the empty street. There aren’t any street lights. It’s dark and lonely. It’s what I deserve.

She deserves so much more than me. She deserves the life she would’ve had without me.

It’s wrong of me to even ask for forgiveness.

I was in too deep. I refused to leave when I should have.

I'll do what I should have done from the beginning. I'll leave her alone. She's better off without me.