Fatal Series 00 - Fatal Destiny

eventually.”
    “I wish I was so confident.” Just when he thought he really knew her, he discovered he didn’t know her at all. The unsettling thought did nothing to calm his rattled nerves. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If for any reason it’s not going to happen tonight—”
    “Just call. Take care of Sam. We’ll take care of things here.”
    On his way to the door, Nick took a second to squeeze Skip’s right hand, which retained sensation more than two years after he was shot on the job and left a quadriplegic.
    “She loves you,” Skip said. “I’m sure of that.”
    “I hope you’re right.” Nick grabbed a coat and went into the kitchen to go out through the backdoor. No sense alerting everyone that he was leaving. Whatever was going on with Sam was her business—and his.
    In the cab he took to the Lincoln Memorial, Skip’s words echoed through Nick’s mind: She loves you. I’m sure of that . Nick had been too. But something had changed in the last few weeks, something fundamental and essential. Whether or not they could get back what they’d once had was anyone’s guess.
    And the last thing Nick wanted the week before he was due to marry the love of his life was to be guessing about whether she still loved him enough to marry him or if losing his baby had broken her so badly she’d never be the same again.
    As he took the steps to the Lincoln Memorial, Nick recalled the last time he’d come here to find her, after she’d met his friend Julian Sinclair, the Supreme Court nominee. She and Julian had sparred over right-to-life issues, which had brought up the painful memory of her first miscarriage years earlier. Nick had learned then that Sam came to Lincoln when she was troubled by something.
    Where would he look next if she wasn’t there? He had no idea.
    Rounding the monument, he headed for the Gettysburg Address, and there she was, knees pulled up to her chin, lost in thought, oblivious to him watching her. Overwhelmed with relief that she was safe, he wondered if he should leave her alone. Or should he remind her that there was somewhere else she was supposed to be?
    United States Senator Nick Cappuano, who was rarely at a loss, had no idea what to do.
    Just then she shifted her eyes and met his gaze, a look of surprise overtaking her pretty face.
    He took a step forward.
    “What’re you doing here?” she asked.
    “I might ask you the same thing.”
    “I had an errand down this way and decided to pay Mr. Lincoln a visit.”
    “You must’ve lost track of time.”
    “I guess.” She shrugged and checked her watch. “Wow, it’s getting late.”
    “Sam, the shower—”
    “Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit .” She scrambled to her feet. “Let’s go.”
    He stopped her when she would’ve headed for the stairs.
    She looked up at him, questioning. “We’re late. We have to go.”
    “Sam…”
    “What?”
    “Is everything okay?” He hated the weird, needy tone of his voice. But more, he hated that he had to ask.
    “Everything’s fine. I’m sorry I was late. I lost track of time. Now are we going to go or stand here all night asking questions?”
    “It’s not just tonight.” He reached out to caress her cold face. “You haven’t been yourself lately. I’m worried.”
    “What are you worried about?”
    She looked like his Sam. She sounded like his Sam. But her eyes… the clear blue eyes that had always been the gateway to her innermost feelings were shuttered now. Did he dare say it? Did he dare risk opening that door? How could he not?
    “Is it the wedding? Is that the problem?”
    She stared at him as if he had two heads or were speaking a foreign language. “What about the wedding?”
    Nick’s heart raced, his mouth went dry and his palms were suddenly damp. “Do you still want—”
    “To get married?” she asked, seeming incredulous.
    He nodded.
    “Do you ?”
    “Yes! You know I do! I just don’t know what you want anymore. You won’t talk to me! If you’ve changed your mind or something has happened, I wish you’d tell me. Just tell me. Anything would be better than wondering what’s going on with you.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Haven’t I been going to dress fittings and meeting with Tinker Bell and doing all the things I need to do?”
    He nudged at the marble with the toe of his loafer. “Yeah.”
    “Why would I be doing that if I didn’t want to get married?”
    Nick couldn’t think of a good answer to