She studied me for some time. “You waited for me, Brando Fausti. Since I was fifteen.”
Even longer, I was tempted to say, but didn’t.
“It’s not all right,” she continued, maybe reading the look in my eyes, “what you did, or rather, how, but I do understand. I feel you so much.It’s impossible for me not to.All that I am I give to you. All that is mine is yours.That means everything. You don’t need to be afraid either. I’m here too.Sempre.” Her hands tightened around mine. “It was never about you, was it? No, I didn’t think so. It’s about me. You want to do right by me. You will,mio marito. You already have.”
It was eerie how she could do that. Read my mind. I cleared my throat, attempting to clear all of the emotion threatening to choke me. She had called me her husband. I almost called mercy.
“It feels like we’ve been together forever, doesn’t it?” she whispered.
“Not long enough,” I said, my voice as low as hers.
She bit her lip and shook her head. “Forever won’t be long enough with you.”
“There was nothing insane about getting married in winter.” I pulled her forward, switching positions with her. “We have time, baby. Longer nights.”
Releasing her hands, I wiped a tear from her cheek and rubbed it against my lips. I knelt before her on one knee, removing her heels, high satin things that resembled ballerina slippers on sharp points, unwrapping the silk straps that crossed at her ankles, and set them to the side. I left her stockings on for warmth.
I stood, holding out my hand to her. She gazed up at me for a moment before she finally took it. I led her to the window, the fire sending waves of relief, and began to dance with her.
She sighed when we moved back and forth, nothing fancy.
“We don’t have any music.” She placed her head over my heart, keeping her hand firmly in mine.
“We don’t need any.”
“We danced like this before,” she said. She looked up at me and the connection began to move like mercury. “At the train tracks, except we had music then. We danced to Tracy Chapman.”
“I don’t remember the song.” I grinned. “Only you.”
“If we had music, what song would you play?”
“As curious as ever.”
She nodded, her eyes glistening. “It’s good to know things. I—enjoy hearing your answers.”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.” She smiled.
There was no doubt that I’d be foolish enough to cut my heart out and place it on a silver platter just for her to do it again. Smile. It transformed her face. Her beauty was created to hurt, to make this man suffer.
“Hmm,” I said, enjoying the way that she looked at me. She blinked, watching me carefully, those feline eyes almost eager, yet so innocent.
“When A Man Loves A Woman,” I finally answered, putting out her sudden fire of inquisitiveness.
“Classic,” she breathed out. “Slow and romantic. Maggie Beautiful taught you well. I love that one too.”
I hummed the melody; I was no singer, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. We swayed to the tempo, taking our time.
“When did you know that you loved me, Brando?”
My hand tightened on the fabric of her dress, my arms bringing her even closer.
“You hypnotized me that night out in the snow. After I left, I wandered the streets, going nowhere and everywhere at once. I damn near froze to death.” I shrugged in the custom-made suit, feeling like my shoulders could burst through the fine Italian-made seams. “I didn’t even feel it. Elliott. I had it on my mind to tell him, but I had decided to wait. He would’ve told me to get over it. He would’ve told me that it was just the way you danced. He used to go on and on about how magical you were when you moved.”
The hole Elliott had left in my heart had been hurting more than usual. I would’ve given anything to have him standing beside me when I pledged my life to her. At the mention of her brother, tears ran down her cheeks even faster.
“I’ve always loved you, Scarlett Rose Fausti. I fell in love the night you fell asleep in my arms on Snow.”
