“I could have saved her. I was in a trauma room. We would go in there when we needed a couple of minutes of peace. We would get to take a breather and we would talk. Even a couple of minutes helped. I was the one who talked her into leaving her husband. I know that was the right thing to do. I know it in my head, but there’s a part of me that thinks she would be alive if I’d left things alone.”

“He was physically abusive?”

“Oh, yes. He was good at hiding it, or rather Maryanne was, but he beat her on a regular basis. It was more than physical abuse. He tried to isolate her. He bullied her constantly. We were friends for seven years and I watched her go from a scared mouse to a woman who valued herself. It was a long road. She got out and he still killed her. Should I have left her alone? Would she be alive if I had?”

“Probably not.”

It was soothing that he didn’t make a big deal out of this conversation even though it was a big deal. He didn’t turn on the light or force her to sit up and look him in the eyes. He held her and let her wrap herself around him like he was the best teddy bear ever.

“That’s what I tell myself. He wouldn’t have stopped. I wanted to get her out of the situation before they had kids,” she explained.

His hand moved up and down her back. “Lila, you have to know you did everything you could. And that it’s normal to feel guilty. You survived. Your friend didn’t. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel it.”

No “You’re crazy. It wasn’t your fault.” No “How can you possibly think that way?” Just a steady “Of course you do.”

He understood her.

“I know it’s stupid, but I feel like I should have been able to fight through the man with the gun to save her. I didn’t think I would sit there, afraid for my own life.”

He kissed her forehead. “Because you are not the type of woman who ever puts herself first, and that’s something we’re going to deal with. Tu es mon raison d’être, chérie.”

“I get the feeling you are saying things you think I’m not ready to hear yet.”

“Tu es la plus intelligente femme que je connaisse.” He kissed the top of her head and sighed, a contented sound. “I want to forget the things we said at the café. Can we erase that part of the day? I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

She could forgive him. That part was simple. “Of course, and I’m sorry, too. But, Armie, I’m still not going to fit in the way you need me to.”