I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails
I wanna be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down
On a bed of roses
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He listened quietly but intently as her tale unraveled, chocolate gaze fixated upon upon her. There was tenderness in that gaze that never wavered throughout her tale, his hands cradling the water glass to prevent them from reaching for her when she reached the hard parts about being left lonely time and time again, the feds snooping around. He did not stir when she'd mentioned her relationship with Rob, in fact, his lips curved into a faint whisper of a grin. He was glad she'd been able to find someone to take the sting of being alone away, even if it had not lasted. He could never be mad at her for that...she'd assumed him dead, and he'd given her no reason to doubt that.
She had done her best to make her life full over the years, and though she would probably never see it, she had done a remarkable job. He didn't see her life as boring...he saw it as brave. She'd carried on, found happiness where she could, and lived selflessly for her child. She'd made sacrifices for friends who'd become ghosts. She had persevered when many would have quit, and while her supporters might be able to take some credit, he felt she didn't give herself nearly enough.
"You did so much. You kept the lights on for us all..." His slight grin broke to a full out smile, for once not forced. "You've always been tough as nails...always rolling with the punches. I'm glad you didn't have to be strong all alone." He lifted his glass, taking a sip. "I appreciate that you shared with me. It makes us seem less like strangers..." He trailed off for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He'd always been a man that didn't speak until he had something worth saying, and often took time to think through what needed to be said. "Angelina, whatever becomes of us...whether we pick up and go on or we don't...in the end, I'd like us to stay friends. If even for the sake of our daughter."
He needed that. If she couldn't offer it, he'd understand. But the thought of being the type of divided couple that were at each others' throats made his stomach turn. That was never what he'd wanted for them...never been what he'd pictured.
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