Convicted (Consequences)

listen to his words; however, sometimes she felt like an intruder on their private talks. Tonight, she gleaned words here and there as he lulled Nichol back to her world of slumber. The words that registered were Tony’s affirmations of devotion. She couldn’t help but notice that the word safe seemed to be tonight’s reoccurring theme. Claire twisted on the satin sheets realizing that hearing him repeat that word had the opposite effect on her.
    When Tony finally climbed back to bed, Claire nuzzled against his chest. The lingering scent of cologne combined with a faint aroma of baby powder overpowered her senses. Her voice cracked as she tried to sound strong, “I love you.” She didn’t want him to know how scared she was. After all, she was the one who demanded to accompany him to the States.
    Tony stroked her back and whispered, “I love you, too.” As if to reassure not only Claire but himself, he pulled her tighter and proclaimed, “It’ll all be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you or her.”
    Claire nodded into his chest. She knew, even with his hushed tone, he meant every word, but at this moment, it wasn’t hers or Nichol’s safety Claire doubted. “What about you? Who’s keeping you safe and assuring your return?” Her tears ran onto his chest as she no longer attempted to feign strength. “I’m not just worried about Catherine”—her words came in snippets, interspersed with deep painful sobs—“what about the authorities?” “I don’t want to lose you,” “I don’t want this to end.”
    Tony’s head fell against the headboard as he continued to rub circles on the soft exposed skin of her back. “I don’t deserve to be kept safe.”
    She sat up and stared at him through the darkness. “Don’t you dare say that!”
    “It’s true. I’ve done awful things, and I deserve to pay for them.”
    “Tony, please stop.”
    He sat taller, pulling Claire close and tried to explain. “The thing is, if this had all come down years ago—before you—I would’ve thought it was undeserved—an injustice. Like how I used to see my grandfather’s consequences, but now—now I know I deserve it. Back then, I would’ve gone away concerned only with Rawlings Industries. Now, everything’s different. The idea of being away from you and Nichol kills me. That separation—no matter if it starts sooner or later, will be worse than anything they could’ve done to me, before.”
    “You’re turning state’s evidence against Catherine. With Brent, Tom, and all your legal team, maybe you can avoid jail time?”
    “Damn it, Claire! You don’t deserve any of this. Maybe we shouldn’t have remarried; then you wouldn’t be married to someone who’s discussing jail time, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be harboring a fugitive.”
    Claire smirked. “I don’t know. You’re married to someone who’s been in a federal prison.”
    His head fell to hers, as if he couldn’t allow any part of him to not be in contact with her. “You’re so much stronger than I.”
    “I hardly think that’s true.”
    “I don’t know if I could survive what’s happened to you.” She felt him stiffen as he corrected, “What I’ve done to you .”
    She let her fingers swirl through the soft hair on his broad chest. “It’s over, and you will survive it—we’ll survive it—we’ve made it this far.”
    “I’ve never asked, and you’ve never said, what was it like?”
    “Tony, please—”
    He rolled her over to her back. From the faint light of the nursery and the moon over the sea, Claire saw the emotion in his eyes—she saw regret, sadness, and perhaps even fear. Instead of making that pain worse, she wanted to take it away. Swallowing her memories of prison—the memories of loneliness—the desperate need for fresh air—and the ever threatening depression—she answered, “It was very routine .”
    He raised his brow.
    Claire reached up and caressed his cheek. The stubble made her smile—she loved the sensation of that stubble on her skin. “Every day is the same. You wake at the same time, eat, go from place to place, shower, sleep—everything is scheduled.”
    “You’ll never know how sorry I am that I’ve ruined your life. You deserve so much better than me.”
    She arched her back so that her lips contacted that same stubble. After a lingering suckle, she replied, “Are you saying you wish we weren’t here—right now? That you wish we weren’t together?”
    Tony