“So you would’ve said yes to me—when you were fifteen—and left it all behind. No hesitation.”
“Correct. Not a second’s hesitation.”
He laughed, coming in closer to give me a chaste kiss. “You would’ve. That’s what made me uneasy. You were this feisty lioness full of determination and courage.”
“You were afraid of me?”
“Amafraid of you. You’re still the lioness—but older. Which makes you even smarter and more determined. You have a hell of a lot more courage now.”
“Are you calling me headstrong?”
“No doubt.”
Our stares locked and held.
“I guess that’s the price you pay for falling for someone like me. The fear, I mean.”
“Così drammatico.” He grinned and turned me, my dress flaring out, a soft whoosh of air caressing legs. “No, that’s the price we all have to pay for love. It’s the fear of losing what we’ve found and somehow can’t live without. You were right when you told me that there are worse things on this earth than death. For me, it’s being without you.”
“Sodramatic,” I returned the grin and the sentiment. “Sometimes fear is a good thing. It’s there to remind us not to take advantage of what can be stolen in the blink of an eye. Some people get so comfortable in their relatively safe lives they forget that loss is not reserved just for some. Meanwhile, the grieving know what love truly means and how not to take time and circumstance for granted.”
“That’s why you love so fiercely.”
“Yes. I remember. I refused to let Elliott’s death not teach me something. And Matteo… There are lessons in every situation.” I gazed into his eyes as we continued to sway. “Is that why you love so fiercely?”
“Yeah. That. And I love you with a burning that won’t cool.”
I looked down for a moment.
“I love that you still blush for me,” he said.
“Me too,” I breathed out. “I still burn for you.”
Despite the unexplainable fear and weight I felt, a huge grin spread across my face at the new song. It was a song that meant something to me, and judging by the look on his face, Brando too. He remembered. I had danced for him for the first time to this song at our house on Snow. The middle of the song had a breathtaking violin solo, and there were times when I danced to it that I felt I could dissolve into the notes, become one with the ebb and flow of the strings.
“Tell me, Scarlett,” Brando said after the song ended and a new one picked up.
“I…I don’t know.” The song, dancing—they pushed my feelings to the side but did nothing to alleviate the coldness that seemed to rush through my veins. I was chilled despite the warm temperature. “I don’t feel right, Brando. The feeling is worse now.”
“We should leave.”
I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. “I don’t feel steady.” It was the only way I could describe it. Like standing on a thousand-mile-high platform that swayed beneath my feet. We were safe at the moment, but how secure?
The music ceased to a grand finale, the soloist and Paolo bowing to the cheers and accolades being thrown at their feet like roses. Lothario was making his way to the front of the restaurant. Brando caught him before he got too far and said something in his uncle’s ear. Lothario looked at me and shook his head. Then he replied before moving on.
Brando shook his head when he came close to me again. “Lothario says the night cannot be complete without Dario making a toast to his bride. He refuses to call the night to an end until he does. The newest member of the family to get married has to do it. He wants me to make one after Dario, since I didn’t get the chance. Double the speeches mean double the good luck.”
I nodded, an automatic response, nothing more.
“Jesus.” Brando took me by the arms, staring at my face. “You’re pale.”
“I need to sit” was all I could get out.
Brando led me back to our seats, keeping my hand in his. I refused to let go.
Lothario quieted the crowd and then explained the tradition of the toast. Then more applause as Dario switched places with his uncle.
“What an honor…” he started his speech, looking at his bride.
