Late Hour Redemption

She walks across the street in a hurry, looking over her back with each passing second, as though she could clearly see through the fog. She is dressed in black baggy joggers and an oversized dark gray hoodie that did well to hide to her dark complexion and glow in her skin - the tell-tale sign of a well maintained skin. She presses her hands tightly inside the big pockets of the hoodie as the foggy night chill brushes softly past her, ruffling the bit of brown bangs her big hoodie failed to cover. The largeness of her outfit in comparison to her small frame made it seem like she didn't want to be so conspicuous. She camouflages well with the midnight sky but her familiar emerald green eyes swiftly give her away. Her eyes skims her surroundings once more as she brings out her gloved hands to hug her hoodie closer to her body and quickly shoves them back in her hoddie pockets. She lazily searches for me in the alley way she asked us to meet at with her eyes, while she continues walking. Her piercing eyes finally meets mine and she steers her body to walk timidly towards me. I let my guard up, reminding myself to remain passive and cold. 

"Why did you call me out here?" I demand, making sure I didn't reveal the turmoil going on in me.

 "I needed to see you," she takes a deep breath and replies in a shaky voice that resonates softly in the dark abandoned alley we stand in. 

"I needed to say I'm sorry. I'm tired of running away from you and what I've done." Her fingers twitch rapidly against her joggers, giving away anxiousness that her firm voice fails to tell. "I can't keep running away from the consequence of my actions." One can clearly hear the steely resolve in her words.

 "The consequence of your betrayal is death," I make sure to remind her, saying each word slowly incase she'd forgotten. 

"I know," she nods softly - so soft I would have missed it if I wasn't staring at her closely while reminding myself of the familiar softness of the contours of her face, "I deserve it." 

I keep studying her so I wouldn't miss any tell-tale emotion. But she is devoid of emotions by this time, like someone who already tasted death and is scared of nothing. I wonder if she didn't realize that killing her is killing me. Or maybe she knows, and she came because she knows I can't kill her. 

"Please do it quickly," she says and hands me the small dagger she'd always kept for defence. I take the dagger from her, as though I can actually harm her.

 "You don't get to choose," I say, softly trailing the sharp edge of the dagger on her exposed neck. I lean in to whisper darkly -that darkness of the gang leader I was- in her ear, "I do." It satisfied my desire to get a response from her as her body trembled beneath my breath. 

"I thought -"

 "- that you'd get a leeway because of what we had?" I laugh bitterly, making her cringe. She effectively hides her eyes from me by bowing her head. 

Feeling the aura of fear that slowly build around her, I can't stand it anymore - all the pretense of hating her, I mean. Maybe because she was standing here, within my reach. I recall that the past 2 years I hadn't been with her, her sorrow had eaten away at me as I watched her think she'd hidden herself from me.

 I let the dagger fall to the ground between us with a clatter. She flinches back a bit at the unexpected noise. Then she lifts her head to look at me, surprise and fear evident in her expression, probably thinking I've devised a means to make her suffer. She's also dropped her pretense. Good.

 "Marilyn, " I hold her chin firmly in my fingers and gently draw her face till her beautiful eyes were looking into mine, "what makes you believe I can hurt you?" Tears well up in her eyes and fall freely. 

"I'm sorry. I-" I shake my head softly, causing her to abruptly stop talking. I lift my left hand to show her my missing pinky. Her eyes, obviously not as sharp as mine, squints into the foggy darkness to get a better view of what I show her. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

 "Y...you... You w....wan...?" 

"Yes, I wanted out." I complete the sentence her sobs didn't let her finish while she just stood there silently, letting her eyes do all the talking. But I understand, as I always did, so I decide to say what I should have, a long time ago. "I'm so sorry Eric had to die for me to realise what I had to do," Eric was our son, "I know you gave away the information to revenge the death of Eric."

 Her body trembles as she sobs and I draw her small frame into my embrace, letting her cry on me for a while. I run my fingers softly through her hair, the way I know she likes it. I feel her hold me tighter.

 "You're my world, Marilyn. I'd turn on the world to be with you." I'm whispering softly into her hair. I think about how unbearable these past years have been. "Promise me you won't leave me again, no matter what wrong thing you think you've done." 

"I..I promise." She replies in a trembling voice that's hoarse from all the crying. 

"Good," I'm happy with her firm reply,  "Let's never speak of this again." She holds me tighter in silent agreement. 

"You kept your ring." I notice her eyes on my left hand's ring finger that I'd kept on her shoulder. 

"It's because I'll always be yours," I whispered as I bring out the silver neck chain that hold her ring from inside her hoodie, "as you'll always be mine." 

She gasps a bit, eyes twinkling, not really surprised, "Have you been spying on me?" 

"Someone had to take care of you." I defend.