She tried to get more comfortable in the bed, to face me, and her breath hissed out after she moved too fast.
“Don’t move,” I said squeezing her hand. “I can see you.”
She grinned, but it was weak. “I cannot see you. Not like I want.” She moved slower this time, and then finally, she released a slow breath. We faced each other.
She ran her hand up my arm to the row of stitches I had. Her mouth moved like it did when she sang, silently, no words coming out, just her lips moving. She was counting my stitches. Seven.
“Corrado—”
“It was close, Alcina,” I said. “Too fucking close.”
She nodded. “It happened so fast,” she whispered.
I watched her face until her eyes met mine. “Tell me to leave,” I said. “Tell me I’m no good for you. Tell me you’re going to get hurt because of me. Tell me all the fucking things you should have said to me the first time you saw me.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” she said, her tone turning bitter.
“It was. I should have kept you in Sicily, where you were safer.”
She shook her head. “They were looking for me, too. They have always been looking for me.”
“I should have killed Silvio and Junior myself. I should have gone back to New York and taken care of it.”
She studied my face for the longest minute of my life. “Then you would have died,” she said. “And what about me?”
“You would be safe.”
“I will never be safe—with you or without you,” she said. “You are my life, Corrado Alessandro Capitani. No matter what happens, my life belongs to you, but my death has been set before I was even born. I refuse to allow you to take responsibility for something that has never been yours, and will never be, unless you kill me with your own hands. And that would mean I did you wrong—with another man—and Iwillnever.”
“I’m fucking selfish by nature,” I said. “I wanted you no matter what the cost, not realizing that there was no cost. There was never a cost. Not when it comes to you.”
“Are you leaving me?” she whispered.
“I should. I should make sure you’re safe, and will be, and then leave.”
“Go then,” she said, trying to point to the door, her hand tugging at the IV, at mine, but I refused to let go. “Go and never look back.”
I sat there, not moving, and she moved her lips, silently daring me:go.
“I refuse,” I said, squeezing her hand even harder.
“That’s because I will never letyougo,” she said, her voice hard. “No matter what you do, I will always be there with you. Even if you can’t see or touch me. It will be much worse, because you will be in love with a ghost that refuses to leave your side. I will haunt you while we both still breathe.”
“You’re the strongest fucking force I’ve ever known.”
“I know,” she said. “Because you love me. That’s what love is.Una forza da non sottovalutare.”A force to be reckoned with.
I brought her hand up to my lips, kissing her cold fingers.
“Even if you would have tried to leave, I could have stopped you,” she said.
“How?”
“Have you ever heard of the game Italian Roulette?” She made sure to pronounce the last two words correctly.
I looked into her eyes as she smiled at me. They crinkled on the sides. It brought me back to my time in Forza d’Agrò, when hermammaasked me if I could sing.
She reached for something that was tucked into the side of the bed. After she had it, she shook the silver thing at me. It was a baby’s rattle. Her bag hung on the edge of the seat I had taken next to her bed—she had demanded that Nunzio get it before we left, or she wasnotleaving—and he must have stuck it inside of the bag when he noticed it floating toward the shore.
