She couldn't, she just wouldn't, do it. Not after all this time. Not after all we had meant to each other. But could I take the risk?
She could ruin it all for me, and I was a different person now. I had a home and a family and it had taken years to build. Years in which not a day had gone by without thinking of her and those crazy times we had spent in France before I got shot and it all went wrong.
I thought she was dead, but there she stood, burnished hair glinting in the sunlight. I wanted to run as hard as I could to get away from her, but it had been ten years since my legs would obey me.
I glanced around. We were alone in the gallery. I moved my hand to my pocket and felt the gun.