Chapter 350: Accompanying Him
Half a year ago, when Jimmy left Chicago, he had invited Fiona to run away with him.
She hadn't gone.
Now, the same choice stood before her again.
But this time, it wasn't about eloping.
It was about going back to school.
"If I go to Michigan with you… what about the kids?" Fiona asked.
"Frank's here. And Sami can help take care of them," Jimmy replied. He had almost said Frank alone—but caught himself. Given Frank's health, who knew how long he'd be around? So he added Sami.
"I need to think about it," Fiona said, rubbing her temples. She didn't answer immediately and went upstairs to her room.
"Fiona…" Jimmy stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her disappear, helplessness written all over his face.
He turned to look at Frank, who was sitting on the couch.
"Don't look at me," Frank said flatly. "You already know my answer. I won't agree to Fiona going with you."
Frank did want Fiona to leave the South Side someday—to step into a new, unfamiliar place and build a life that truly belonged to her.
But leaving the South Side didn't mean following Jimmy.
Jimmy going back to school was one thing.
Fiona tagging along?
What would that make her—his live-in companion? His academic escort?
Wouldn't that reduce her to an accessory in his life?
That wasn't starting fresh.
That wasn't building her own future.
And besides—Jimmy was practically broke.
Medical school tuition wasn't cheap. Daily living expenses weren't cheap either. Sure, he could take out loans.
But if Fiona went with him, would Jimmy really let himself drown in debt?
More likely, Fiona would dip into her own savings to support him.
And that was exactly what Frank refused to allow.
Wouldn't that turn into Fiona working herself to the bone to put Jimmy through school?
One partner works, suffers, burns through their youth to support the other's education.
And then, once the diploma is in hand, the graduate says, "We're not compatible. Our values are different. Our education levels and horizons don't match anymore. Let's break up."
Break up in the morning—seamlessly move on to a classmate in the afternoon.
Just imagining it is enough to make someone tear up.
And stories like that? They're not rare. They happen in real life—again and again.
The ones who at least promise to repay the tuition money later could still be considered to have a shred of conscience. Plenty just walk away without a backward glance.
Jimmy and Fiona had been through a lot together—breakups, reconciliations, danger, chaos. Their bond should, in theory, be stronger than most.
But no one can guarantee the future.
They were both only in their twenties. At that age, vows of "forever" and "never changing" are often nothing more than pretty lies.
And they weren't talking about going off to work at some remote factory.
They were talking about university.
What's a university like? Young, attractive, energetic boys and girls everywhere.
Especially at Western campuses—there's hardly anything people won't try. Temptation comes in every form imaginable.
And college students rarely care about background or status. If there's a spark, that's enough. A night together first—names can wait until the next morning.
With Jimmy's pretty-boy looks and his natural talent for charming women, Frank had no doubt he'd thrive on campus—probably become a regular visitor to the girls' dorms.
If Fiona went with him, maybe she could keep an eye on him, stop him from straying.
But she wouldn't be a student there. She wouldn't live in the dorms. She couldn't monitor him twenty-four hours a day. If Jimmy wanted to cheat, he'd find a way.
And honestly? The same could be said for Fiona.
She wasn't some sheltered innocent. Add alcohol and a fight with Jimmy into the mix, and if she met someone who caught her eye at a bar, things might happen "for the sake of emotional well-being."
After all, how had Officer Tony lost his virginity last year?
The point was simple: they were adults. No one was anyone else's entire world.
And when it came to marriage? Truthfully, neither of them had been serious about it. Jimmy might have entertained the thought once or twice—but Fiona definitely hadn't.
That was why Frank would never agree to Fiona following Jimmy to Michigan.
He'd rather send Fiona to New York—put thousands of miles between them in a long-distance relationship—than watch her trail after Jimmy as some unofficial "academic spouse," sacrificing her own path.
But whether Frank approved or not, the final decision belonged to Fiona.
And truthfully, some of Frank's worries were unnecessary.
There were things he didn't know—because certain complaints weren't things a daughter told her father. Fiona only vented those to her best friend, Veronica.
Lately, she'd been talking to Veronica a lot about Jimmy.
The longer they lived together, the more casual Jimmy became.
For example, when Fiona was showering, Jimmy would casually walk into the bathroom to use the toilet—chatting about random daily nonsense as if they'd been married for years.
That attitude made Fiona uncomfortable.
Sleeping together was one thing.
But barging in while she was showering—not for playful intimacy, but just to sit on the toilet—crossed a line.
She had already started craving a little space. A little distance. A little privacy.
Jimmy's plan to leave and return to Michigan didn't cause much of a stir in the house. Everyone had their own worries, their own problems.
Growing up poor had taught the kids a habit: handle your own troubles if you can. Don't burden others.
And Jimmy's future wasn't their issue.
It was Fiona's.
---
"Do you have family?" Frank asked casually while playing chess with Castle.
"No," Castle replied.
"I thought maybe you had a son or daughter," Frank said.
He had noticed something. Whenever Debbie and Carl were around, Castle's gaze would linger on them. And in his otherwise cold eyes, a faint softness would flicker—like a memory surfacing.
"I used to. Not anymore," Castle said flatly.
That was enough.
Castle had once had children—probably around Debbie and Carl's age.
But something had happened. They were gone.
He never talked about his past. And Frank wasn't the type to pry.
Everyone carried their own story.