He understood the look and the words I refused to speak. My eyes alone spoke louder than my voice ever could.
“You or nothing,” I said.“Capisci?”
He turned from me, his back still rigid, all the thoughts running rampant through his mind, stealing his attention.
I said his name, part order, part plea, and finally, he faced me.
“Ti amo,” I said, all the conviction that was mine to give his. “Mio marito.” Kissing my palm, I held it out to him.
“Ti amo, mia moglie,” he said, returning it. Then he kissed his palm, resting it against mine, and entangled our fingers.
“Bene.” I nodded, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Now let’s go to our children. Life is waiting for us.”
“We’ll keep each other young,” he said.
It wasn’t apparent what he was getting at, but I felt it all the same, the need for reassurance. That, paired with the searching gaze on his face, told me everything—he sought answers when all he could come up with was more questions.
“I’ll keepyouyoung,” I said, touching his chest with our hands. “I’m younger, so when you get older and start having doubts about not marrying one of those women, don’t forget it. You can’t live forever, so don’t search for the everlasting through your youth.”
I knew I’d have more appreciative looks to deal with as we grew older—my beauty would fade; his would increase. He got to keep his sperm, too, while my eggs vanished into tissue.
“These hands—” I lifted them, turning them to and fro “—my hands,will kill you faster than life ever could.Goomah—” I made a very unladylike noise with my mouth.
Goomahwas the term for a mistress, though the term was American. It gave me the reaction I sought, though—something to lighten the mood.
He laughed, real low, but in such a cold place, the warmth of it could have melted ice. He made a growling noise, pulling me closer, placing a warm kiss on my temple. A sound that conveyed both his love and his frustration.
He pulled me against him even tighter, making me walk off kilter, while he kissed my temple again. “You are my youth, Scarlett Rose Fausti. You are my life. You’ve already given me the everlasting, through our children. I know where to find it when I need to touch it. You know as well as I do real men don’t cheat. I’m no fucking coward. I’m a man. My word is my blood. If I give it, I give it with the stake of my blood. To you, I gave it with the promise of my entire life.Il tuo.”
“Il mio.” This time I pulled him closer. I looked up at him, right into the power of those dark eyes, the same consuming reaction to him I had the first time soaring through my bloodstream, making the butterflies dance. “We’ll be fine, Brando. No matter what.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice full of gravel. In his eyes, the look was mirrored. “As long as we’re together.”
* * *
We both stopped as we approached Ettore’s grave.
A few men still lingered, waiting for us to leave, but the rest of the group had left.
A lone woman stood at the grave, one single rose in her hand, her hair covered in black lace, along with the rest of her. Judging by the lines of her face, I assumed she was around my mother’s age, perhaps younger. She was curvy, with a bust and hips, though her bones were petite, her wrists thin. Her olive skin reflected her Italian roots. Her other hand, aged but still graceful, worried the cross around her neck.
On instinct, my hand went to my own cross, double checking its existence around my neck.
Brando tried to tug me forward, but I stood my ground.
He let out a low, frustrated sound. “It’s time to go.”
I lifted a hand, motioning for him to give me a second. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Then he sent me a look that would make a strong man cower.
The woman made me curious.
Even at our noise, she hadn’t bothered to turn around, to even acknowledge our presence. Sadness rushed from her like falling tears, but even deeper: a lot of anger and resentment. Some regret.
“I will not be long,” she said in Italian. I got the feeling that was all she could speak. “I told this to Luca.”
Brando nodded, though she hadn’t turned, and went to urge me forward, but I spoke before he could bodily move me.
“Stay,” I said. “You seem like you could use the closure.”
