Looking out the window, I marveled at how beautiful the day was—a clear blue sky for miles around, the temperature in that perfect space between frigid and scalding.
“Guido?”
He glanced at me, glasses covering his eyes. There was no hiding the severe set of his face. And underneath his tan complexion, embers burned.
“Did Brando give you instructions?”
He nodded. “We should follow you but not enter. But given—” He lifted his hands and then grasped the wheel again. “I do not think it best if you drive.” A tick in his jaw pulsed at that.
“No,” I agreed. And it had nothing to do with the tumble down the steps.
The closer we came to Snow Street, the harder my heart beat, the faster my breath came, and I felt lightheaded again. There was no denying that the connection that had sparked between us that night out in the snow was still alive and active, even more aggressive now.
If I closed my eyes, it was his heart that I could see pounding in the darkness. The lines behind lids were his veins, a journey to his soul. I was taking the voyage to his flesh. Thousands of sparks went off, fizzing in my blood stream, and an intense hum filled my ears.
It wasn’t until we turned on Snow that I noticed my hands were fisted, clutching the door handle. My feet were made of iron, the floor the magnet.
“Guido?” I whispered. “Can we go around the block a few times before we stop?”
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“F-fine. Really!” I tried to smile but failed. Swollen as my lip was, I transferred the ice to the puffed-up spot. “I’m just nervous.”
“Sì.” He nodded.
As we passed, I caught sight of the house, tucked into its cozy space of the world, and swallowed hard. The taste of iron was still strong on my tongue.
Guido made a final round, and there was no way to ask him to go again. He was eager to get me home—home. The word sent such a powerful frisson through me that he asked me if I was all right.Fine, but it almost felt as though he had hit a major dip in the road.
He turned down the drive, asked me if this was the right place, and I nodded in answer. Slower now, the tires crackled against the mud and rocks of the driveway. Bowed oak trees welcomed us until the yard opened up and the house came into view.
Brando’s old truck was parked out front, and if the word “home” made me tremble… a sob erupted from my throat at the thought of him waiting insideourplace.
“Scarlett?”
I waved off Guido’s worry, attempting to put him at ease. He had no idea that this was all I had ever wanted in life—just…this.
“Oh God,” I cried, the pressure of emotions pushing and the bruises throbbing. “It’s still here.”
“Sì.” Guido pulled the Range Rover next to the truck, putting it in park. A minute or two later Nino followed, parking on the opposite side. “It is hard to move a house, ah?”
I laughed through blubbering tears, grabbing his warm hand and squeezing.
He followed the line of my gaze, taking it all in. “This place. It is beautiful. Peaceful. Almost a sanctuary.”
“Yes.” My head bobbed. “Yes. It’s home. Where my journey ends—where I had hoped and had faith it would.”
“I do not think this is the end.”
I squeezed his hand once more before Nino opened the car door for me.
Standing on the front porch, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Guido and Nino stood behind me, against the cars, watching. Guido made a shoo motion at me.
“I—” I turned back around. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to myself. The last time I left, I had left all I ever wanted behind, vowing to myself never to step foot through those doors unlessfor goodwas what was promised.
All those memories rushed forward, all-consuming, ravaging my heart as though goodbye had happened yesterday.
To function as a normal human being, or as an operating human being, I’d had to shroud this part of my life so that I could find the energy to do the most mundane tasks. I had to grieve and then let go. In that moment, the heartbeat of our home beckoned me forward, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to take another step. Risk it all once again.
