I decided on a white, tiered shift dress that was light and airy, dressing it up some with earrings and bangles that were in a drawer full of jewelry. I found a pair of cute lace-up sandals to go with and set them aside.
Aniello was out of the shower by the time I made it back to the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist, and water dripped down his smooth skin. The light coming in from the small window hit his eyes. They almost seemed like dark honey in the sun. His black hair only intensified them.
It was impossible to even put into words how attracted I was to him. The magnetism almost seemed like a living and breathing thing between us. Something that couldn’t exist unless we did. But instead of him hesitating to touch it this time, it was me.
Turning my eyes from him, I started rummaging through cabinets, hoping I could find a few things to help me get ready. I found everything I’d ever need and more. All that was in my bathroom cabinets and drawers at the condo was here, too, but brand new. It should have clicked when I was in the shower—things I used were in there too—but I wasn’t paying attention then. I was too caught up in my heartache.
Grabbing a tube of lipstick from the drawer, I lifted it up. “You must have had fun trying to find this exact shade.”
He tapped his temple, like that answered everything. It probably did. I wasn’t sure if he could forget anything. It made him even more dangerous. He would never forget faces or names.
When I turned from him and started to get ready, he stood behind me, and I ignored him until I couldn’t.
Our eyes met through the mirror.
He used a finger to move my hair. “I never knew how much of the devil existed inside of me until I met you.” He kissed my shoulder. “Then I knew what it meant to be human. To fall, as they say.”
He kissed me again, in the center of my back, and I had a hard time keeping my head from resting against his chest, from keeping my eyes from closing.
“You fell for me twice,Rosalia, but falling never made much sense to me. Everything inside of me shifts—it’s the most violent thing I’ve ever felt. No physical weapon has ever come close. It’s also the most peaceful. Nothing in this world has ever come close.
“I’m drawn to you. I can’t stop it. I fucking won’t stop it. If anyone stands in the way of me getting close to you, I’ll kill them. You’re the heart inside of my chest. If ‘falling’ makes more sense, though, then you know how I feel every time you walk into the room. It’s so powerful that one day, the fall might kill me. You will kill me. Something life hasn’t been able to do.”
He kissed me once last time, on the opposite shoulder, and then left me alone to get ready.
* * *
An hour later,with Bambina tagging along, we started to make our way down the steps in the back of the house we were in. I was having a hard time taking my eyes off the man next to me.
He was dressed casually, white t-shirt and black slacks, and it was impossible not to imagine him in black and white and up on the silver screen. He was also much cooler than anyone I’d ever fucking known in real life.
“Wait,” I said, stopping on the second step, tugging on Aniello’s hand. “How far do we have to go?”
“Not far.”
“Maybe we should bring something? That would be polite.”
“Not necessary.”
“I want them to like me,” I said, being honest. I fixed a piece of my hair, not sure what to do with my hands. “And it seems like the right thing to do.”
He turned and looked up at me. “You look beautiful, Rosalia,” he said.
My hair was done in big waves, and I went light on the makeup. I could smell my perfume in the hot air, and I could tell it pleased Aniello. Before we left, he kept pulling me close, burying his nose in my neck, breathing me in.
“That’s not what I’m worried about. I doubt they’ll be judging my looks.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Will they?”
It seemed like he wanted to grin but, to his credit, didn’t.
“I’m being serious. I feel like I should be a good Italian wife—” I stopped when I’d realized what I’d said. “I mean—I should be a good Italian—” What to call myself? Girlfriend? That didn’t seem right.
Nothing seemed right to describe what we were except for husband and wife. Titles that were given because oaths were taken. Even though Aniello Assanti was my only oath, I hadn’t said them to him out loud, not like I’d done to Club D.
His eyes turned hard, and I couldn’t read him after I stopped talking.
“Say that again,” he said.
“I’m being serious—”
