Was he talking about my memories? I had left him, in more than one sense.
It was like I was collecting little pieces of the puzzle as time moved on, but that hesitation on Aniello’s part was starting to makemehesitate.
Before, I’d told myself he was doing it for me. I’d never lost the love, or the connection we shared, and he didn’t want to give me the actual memories but show me the places we’d been, remind me of the things we’d done, so maybe somewhere down the line they would come back to me on my own.
Deep down, though, I knew they were never coming back. And I wanted to know.
No.
I needed for him to tell me.
My thoughts drifted to Cilla, and the tears I had no control over slipped down my cheeks with the water. I rested my head and hands against the tile, trying not to let him hear me cry. He seemed to have a radar when it came to me, though.
He pulled back the shower curtain, and after turning the water off, he picked me up and then set me down in front of the mirror. Then he wrapped a thick towel around me.
“What happened to her, Niello?”
He was almost stiff before, but at the name, he softened. “Say it again,” he said.
“Niello,” I whispered.
He reached out and wiped a tear from my eye. “Joseph’s enemies found them and gunned them down. A bullet killed him, and they went off a bridge.”
“A bullet killed her too?”
“Most likely,” he said. “The fall could have done it too.”
I shook my head, trying not to think too hard on the details.
“Is—I mean, will it be okay to visit your family right now?” I took a shuddering breath, not wanting anything bad to happen to anyone else. Everything this life touched, it tainted.
“I wouldn’t take you if it wasn’t.”
“Won’t they be looking for you there?”
“No,” he said. “The Boss will be calling the shots. He thinks he knows me. He does, to a certain degree.”
“You know him too.”
“Better than he knows me,” he said.
“He’ll assume you won’t go home.”
“I never have before.” He removed his shirt, throwing it in a hamper in the corner. “He moves slow but steady. He thinks before he acts. He’ll wait for the perfect time to get to me. He’ll refuse to miss.” Then he undressed completely, turning the shower back on after. “If you don’t want to be late for Sunday dinner, start getting ready.”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“Check the closet,” he said before he got into the shower and shut the curtain.
It took me a moment to move. After everything that was going on, this all seemed so domesticated. Him showering. Me getting ready for Sunday dinner over at his family’s house. Even the house itself seemed so…normal.
It wasn’t big at all, but it was homey.
Everything I’d always wanted was right there in that house.
Bambina took her toy and jumped off the bed when I entered the bedroom. She followed me into the closet, where I found a side full of things meant for me. I couldn’t remember seeing them before, but I loved everything I touched.
Comfortable, just like the house.
