epilogue

Portia

We're lying in bed, Callahan's big arms around me. I'm curled into him, our heads resting on the same pillow.

He's playing with a strand of my hair. I touch his unshaved face, liking the stubble.

"I would be dead if it wasn't for you," he says.

I study him, thinking about what I need to tell him.

“I didn't want to live afterward. I wanted to die. Even though I knew it would kill Antonio, I just couldn't. But then there you were, and you made me remember things. Made me feel things. Made me care again. Maybe you make me less selfish, Portia."

“You've never been selfish, Callahan.”

He shrugs a shoulder.

"I need to tell you something," I start. I take a breath in and lay on my back to stare up at the ceiling. He puts a hand on my belly. Slides it up to cup a breast.

“I like this," he says. “I like a little more meat on you."

"Well, I'm glad you think so." I sit up, put my pillow on my lap.

"What is it?" he asks, all serious when he sees my expression. He sits up too and takes the