CHAPTER 39 #2
"—To someone," she recovered, "and a woman, who I thought was a tourist at first, approached me the second I hung up.
She wanted directions to the underground, even though it was so easy to find.
It was strange, but we each went our separate ways.
I was on high alert, just like when I was in the field and felt alive.
I was noticing all the strange things going on around me when—"
"When the woman reappeared," Ellen butted in, completely absorbed in the tale being told. "It totally has that Robert Ludlum or Tom Clancy vibe to it."
Roxy smiled at Ellen and bit her lip. How could she resist the urge to kiss her any longer?
"Exactly. When the woman reappeared," Roxy echoed with a smile.
"She knew exactly what to say or what vulnerability to exploit, and the next thing I knew, I was, three days later, in a small room signing a pact with the devil, giving up my whole life behind me.
I became Roxanne Powell. Officially, I am still with the British army, deployed in a classified location around the world, that I don't have the clearance myself to know where. Lieutenant Kerr at your service."
She gave Ellen an unenthusiastic military salute. Ellen's breath caught Roxy's rhythm.
"Wow," Ellen said, "that's a lot to process. Where does Charles fit into your story?"
"We had only met, and he knew little about me then. I told him I gave a false name because I didn't know who he was. Selling Powell wasn't difficult," Roxy said.
"But did you love him?" Ellen asked.
"I loved Charles sincerely. Except that I never loved him, as I should have loved him.
I never had feelings like I have with you.
" Ellen seemed unsettled by Roxy's gaze, which refused to break contact.
"My relationship with him was real. You're not the reason we broke up—it was inevitable. You were the spark in my thoughts."
Ellen squeezed her hand, an insignificant gesture that made Roxy feel better and gave her the strength to continue talking.
"I quickly became comfortable in my relationship with Charles, and inevitably, that helped my cover.
After two years assigned to London, they sent me here to Australia.
And as if by magic, Charles received an offer from the National Bank of Australia that he couldn't refuse.
MI6 and the National Bank arranged everything to make hiring him easy, yet Charles's hard work also secured him this position.
It's important for me to point that out. "
The room fell instantly silent. The fire crackled, and the distant ticking of a clock added to the ambiance. Roxy noticed Ellen seemed to hold back a question. Was she afraid of the answer? Roxy had a pretty good idea of what it might be. "Don't hold back—ask the question you're thinking of."
Suddenly, Ellen's voice, soft and uncertain, pierced through the silence. "Have you ever killed someone?"
Roxy didn't even blink. "Yes, Ellen. I have."
"A lot?"
"Too much."
"Was it always justified?"
"I just do what I'm told, Ellen, I don't make the calls.
" It seemed like such an easy answer, but it wasn't. She remembered every killing and all the reasons they'd fed her, and the struggle of not being able to voice her own opinion.
"Otherwise, it can become personal, and that's when you make mistakes.
That's exactly what happened with you. I crossed a line. "
Fear appeared in Ellen's eyes, and tears filled them. She got up from the sofa quickly as her breathing seemed to quicken as if she were in a state of panic.
"Put simply, if you were initially sent to assassinate me, you would have done it without a second thought."
As if overcome by shame, Roxy's eyes fell to the ground. "Yes. I would have done it."
Then Ellen exploded.
"Fuck Roxy, how can you say that to me and remain so calm."
Roxy felt her heart break in two when she saw how Ellen reacted to her reality. Without thinking, she stood up and took Ellen in her arms for a tight hug.
"I know, Sunshine, I know," Roxy whispered as she rested her hand on the nape of Ellen's neck. "I'm not a good person. Far from it, in fact."
Ellen held Roxy closer to her, giving her time to come to terms with something she had accepted long ago. "You'd get yourself killed every time you're out and no one would even know why. Not even me?" she asked.
"I always thought it would end like this for me, but it's not what I want anymore," Roxy said.
Ellen leaned back a little to look at her. "Because of me?"
"Yes, because of you." Ellen returned to the cuddling position for several long minutes, before finally resuming their place on the sofa.
"But there's something I don't understand, Roxy," Ellen asked when she had calmed down. "Why did they send you specifically into my life? Why did they send a mercenary, an assassin, if it's not to eliminate me?"
A mercenary. An assassin.
The two words from Ellen's mouth struck her with the force of gunshots, directly to her chest. Because Ellen was right: that was what she was.
She could tell herself a different story—that she was an MI6 operative, a spy working for His Majesty the King.
But all those fancy titles didn't change the reality of what she was.
Is there a satisfactory answer she can give Ellen? Maybe not, but she needed to try something.
"That was the first thing I asked when they offered me the assignment—because it was voluntary. You're right to say that it's not... part of my usual job description. I chose to participate."
A slow exhale escaped her lips. "Okay, but what did you get out of it, Roxy?"
“I knew the moment I saw your photo that I wanted to get to know you,” Roxy blurted out.
"I felt the need to protect you from my world.
Something you didn't choose." There was a hint of desperation in Roxy's tone.
She knew these answers could make all the difference to Ellen.
She couldn't afford to make a single mistake.
Ellen looked away, toward the fire. When she looked back at Roxy, her expression had changed. She was more ashamed than angry. "I should've known," she murmured. "God. Of course it was too good to be real."
"It was real," Roxy said, quickly. "It may not be a coincidence that our paths crossed, but everything we lived through was real. I fought it," she added. "Harder than you know. But you kept showing up in my head and my heart, and I kept wanting to see you."
"I feel stupid, Roxy."
"You're not."
"Yes, I am. I thought I was being careful, but I got tricked. By you."
Roxy stood still, her voice carrying to Ellen but her feet remaining firmly planted. "I swear I never came to you to hurt you."
"Maybe," Ellen said bitterly, "but you did."
"And it will weigh on my conscience for the rest of my life." Roxy's fingers nervously twisted the edge of the blanket. "Don't get me wrong, Ellen. I'm not trying to get a free pass from you. I just need you to understand… I'm not bringing you into a clean story. It's a bloody mess."
Ellen stepped away, quiet, moving toward the kitchen counter as if she needed to do something with her hands. Roxy stared at Ellen, observing the silent battle playing out within her.
Roxy walked toward Ellen and took both her hands. "I will work to earn your trust. It might take me a lifetime, but I'll do it."
A single nod from Ellen was enough to make Roxy's breath catch in her throat. "Thank you for listening," Roxy said. "I'm not sure if I should ask this, but do you believe me?"
"I think I may, Roxy," she said, grinning, "and I want you so badly." A palpable tension filled the air, as though something had finally broken between them. "I think I'll go to bed," she said, barely steady. "Goodnight, Lieutenant Kerr."
She gave Roxy a small military salute, and Roxy smiled faintly.
"Goodnight, Sunshine," said Roxy with a relieved sigh.
And just before entering her room, Ellen turned back to Roxy. "One last question."
Roxy spun around, totally taken aback. "Yes?"
"Imagine a life beyond this one. What are your dreams for how you want to live it?"
Roxy laughed, surprised by such a question. "You're going to laugh, but I would love to write spy novels. Just to get out all these crazy ideas I have had over these years. Obviously, I will write about a heroine who doesn't mess everything up like I have done in the last few months."
Ellen raised an eyebrow. "Would it be realistic?"
"You have no idea how painfully realistic it would be."
Ellen smiled fully with her eyes, which was so adorable. God, Roxy missed her.
"Mm. Okay," she simply said. "Then maybe you should write your story, or our story."
And then Ellen went into her room, leaving behind a much more lighthearted Roxy.
***
Roxy closed the door of her bedroom fifteen minutes later, but she didn't go to bed. She was sitting on the edge, tense, her hands clasped between her knees. Ellen's voice still echoed in her chest.
She heard Ellen opening her door and footsteps creaking across the wooden floor, stopping just outside Roxy's door. Roxy stood slowly, each step toward the door feeling like a choice she couldn't undo.
Then, with her voice, low and fractured, Ellen whispered, "Why are you doing this to me?"
It hit Roxy like a wound she didn't see coming. She closed her eyes, her hand finding the knob. Her pulse jumped, but she didn't turn it. She knew opening that door would only lead to more. It was too soon to be so close to Ellen again, not like this.
Not if she wanted to keep what was real between them from slipping into something them couldn't recover from. Her footsteps moved away, soft against the floorboards, followed by the quiet click of her door closing. Roxy stayed there, unmoving, then sat back down, not in defeat, but in restraint.
She wasn't expecting her to come back. She was waiting for the night to pass so she could see her again in the light, without all the ghosts around them tonight.