The lines were clearly drawn, though. Romeo and Dario felt as if vengeance should be served. Brando and Rocco knew the reality of the situation.
The difference of opinion unsettled Brando.
He didn’t like being on the outs with his brothers. Rocco, being more accustomed to bearing the brunt of the responsibility, wasn’t completely settled with the situation either, but more at ease with it.
“It shall pass,” Rocco had said. “Just as time does, whether we are in good times or bad.”
Brando cleared his throat, making me turn toward him. “Le stelle sono ancora nei tuoi occhi, ragazza di ballerina,” he said. After our trip to New Orleans, we were headed back to Natchitoches. It was dark out, and only the glow of the lights reflecting off the slick ground shared some color with the world. “Tu sei la mia stella.”
You still have stars in your eyes, Ballerina Girl, he had said.You are my star.
Licking my lips, I wiggled in my seat until I finally relaxed, settling on a set of words to respond with. “I shine because you are my darkness,” I said in Italian.
“You fell in love with the darkness,” he said.
“Yes,” I breathed. “It’s magical, isn’t it? The darkness saves itself for the light above. And the stars and moon save their light for the darkness. Without the night, how could a star shine?”
“I had no chance,” he said, shaking his head. Lights from oncoming cars glittered in the depths of his dark eyes. “I bit that fruit without hesitation.”
“Was it good?” I grinned at him.
He glanced at me from the side of his eye. “The taste never leaves my mouth, so the first bite is always new, but somehow deeper.”
“Ooh,” I almost crooned. “You’re good, Fausti. You still have it after all of these years.”
He laughed, his teeth startling white in the darkness.
“Brando?”
“Yeah, baby.” The grin was still on his face.
“I love doing what lovers do with you.” My voice came out soft, my cheeks rushing with blood. “I love that all of my experiences have been with you only. I love that I married the man who was my first everything. And will be my last everything.”
The look he gave me was fast and hot. He brought my left hand to his mouth, kissing my wedding rings, his breath warm, his kiss even warmer. He held it against his heart.
“Thank you,” I said. “For today. I’ll never forget it.”
“Consider all I do payment toward a debt that I’ll never be able to requite.” His voice came out soft but with a gruff edge. “No amount of time could settle the score.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Relax your face, baby. My fingers are itching to smooth out the strain of confusion.”
I realized, after he had brought it up, that my eyebrows were furrowed. The tension eased as soon as he pointed it out.
“That’s better.” He sighed. “No matter what I do, I could never repay you for marrying me. Thank you for being my wife, for having the patience, the faith, the strength to see us through.Hai sempre ragione.”
“I don’t want to always be right,” I said. “But I’m so thankful that I was right about us.”
“Just think,” he said, checking his rearview mirror, switching lanes. The tires seemed to swoosh underneath us with cold and moisture. “If you would’ve listened to your mother, we wouldn’t be married. Your obstinate nature saved us.”
This time I threw back my head and laughed. “‘You will regret it! He is too much work—he will take longer in the bathroom than you!’” I said, mimicking her warning, using a Slovenian accent.
“That fucking hurt. I hardly look at my hair.”
“Ah,” I sighed, still laughing some. “She was trying her hand at reverse psychology. She was implying that you are so gorgeous that I’d have to get used to women fawning over you. She was afraid that I’d get hurt. But she’s changed her mind. She believes in the vows we made.”
“But not that my bathroom time is not even half of yours.”
