When Angelia started to giggle so hard that she lost her breath, I looked down. Her finger was pointed, and Bambina was licking it. My girls loved each other, and despite the almost unbearable hurt in my heart—it only hurt whenever I took a breath—I couldn’t help but laugh through the tears streaming down my cheeks. Angelia’s laughter was contagious.
If I had to live for anyone, I was so thankful it was for this amazing little being sitting on my lap, lighting up with an innocence only known to children.
“Mrs. Assanti?”
I stopped stroking Angelia’s hair and looked up at the stewardess.
“The pilot is ready for takeoff,” she said.
The weight in my heart made me sigh, but I nodded. I was as ready as I would ever be. I would miss Peppin and Lina, but they both made me promise to get in touch when we landed. They would come to visit us whenever they could.
I strapped in for the take off and made sure to hold Angelia tight, while also keeping a hand on Bambina. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do with a baby and a dog who’d never flown before. At least it was only us and not an entire plane full of people.
Bambina whined some as the plane took off and rose higher and higher into the sky. Once we reached altitude, and the stewardess gave us the okay to move about the cabin, my heart rebelled in my chest.
Leaving New York felt like the closing of the casket—the final goodbye I was cheated out of.
Tears I had no control over rushed down my cheeks, while a painful sob was stuck in my throat.
“Mrs. Assanti?”
The damn stewardess. She was probably back to offer us refreshments. But I couldn’t look at her, answer her, not when it felt like the sob stuck in my throat had cut off my air and made it impossible to breathe.
Some people say love feels like a fire.
So did losing my heart to love.
Waving a hand, I signaled for her to give me a minute.
Oblivious to my pain, Angelia started rocking in my lap, excited that Bambina had jumped down from the seat and was running around.
“Paaaaa-pà!” she squealed.
My eyes lifted.
Aniello Assanti stood by the entrance, watching us with a look that bordered on insane.
Even though my knees felt like jelly, I stood, holding on to the seat for balance. Angelia squealed again, holding her arms out for her father.
My husband.
The man I thought was dead.
“Say something,” I whispered.
He opened his arms for his daughter, but I refused to bridge the gap, not until he said something. And something that meant something.
“I had to,” he said, his voice hoarse. “When it comes to me, your face betrays you. If you had shown anything but grief, they would have known. Then I wouldn’t have been able to do what I needed to do in time.”
“Which w-was?” I said, realizing then how hard I trembled. My teeth were almost clacking from the tension in my body.
“Kill the fuckers who dared to take me away frommyfamily. Fewer complications when they weren’t expecting me.”
“Quentin-n and Abe?”
He shrugged. “We do what we have to do in that life. It was better coming from them. They knew what was on the line. I would have done the same for them, so the people they love would be safe.”
A disbelieving noise slipped from my lips, but he didn’t respond to it. He kept looking at us with a focus that bordered on frightening.
