He’s still so dangerous, I amended, thinking of how hard I’d fallen for him, hard enough to give up my life for that moment, and was still falling.
Setting his hand over mine, entwining our fingers, he led me toward the house. “If we don’t leave now, we never will.”
“Fine with me,” I said as I tried to keep step with him.
He grinned.
My heart sped up as my stomach took a dive. Years would never be enough with him.
Peppin and Lina had Angelia between them on the sofa while she read them a book.
“Our turn next,” Lina said, holding up a book. “We’re going to read this one toyou.” She tickled Angelia underneath her chin, and her face scrunched up as she giggled.
“Anyone want coffee?” Paul asked, rising from the sofa with his cup.
“We’re good,” Niello said, and Paul nodded.
It warmed my heart to see them working on their relationship. The life we had been in had separated them from any good they could have had, but time was bridging the gap and healing wounds.
Maybe Paul felt that the vow Niello had made had taken his brother away from him too.
It seemed to me that Paul had hated what Niello had been doing, not him. And at that point, Niello was in so deep, there didn’t seem to be a chance he’d ever live a “normal” life.
I looked around at my home, my husband and my daughter, and the people I considered mine, and I knew there was no way to get any more normal.
A smile split my face, and Niello and Angelia smiled with me. When I acknowledged everyone else, they were all smiling too.
Niello held Angelia close as she reached out for me. She hugged us both. I told her to be good for her grandparents, her uncle and aunt, and Niello kissed her on the forehead, on her chin, each of her cheeks, and then on her nose.
He called her “blood of my blood; heart of my heart” in Neapolitan. He told her she was safe and loved, and to say her prayers that night, and then we left, Bambina following on our heels.
She was an integral part of our family, and she went wherever we went. Or tried to. She watched us step into the boat from the window, and then she ran back to check on the youngest love of her life. She slept wherever Angelia did. She had a bed in her room. The two of them were as close as water and sand.
As my husband took the wheel of the boat that we used to get around the island, I allowed myself a moment to think of the future. Of all the time I prayed we still had, to all the things we still had to do. The wind whipped through his black hair, and as the sun faded into the sky, the moon claiming half of it, it painted him silver.
A sight that I had to look forward to. He would be even more handsome in the years to come.
“Today, Rosalia,” he said, his voice rising over the wind.
Grinning to myself, I knew that even if I hadn’t said the words, he knew what I’d been thinking about. And if I continued to think about anything other than the moment I was in, I’d miss them.
Not a fucking chance.
I took my place next to him, my hand on his shoulder, as he navigated the water, until we came to a restaurant on the beach that we liked.
Even on an island, we should have made friends, but that was far from the reality.
The cautious ways of the life were embedded in the fabric of who we were, and we never got too close, or created patterns. My husband had not only destroyed important people in that life, but I had disavowed too. We lived our life, but it was never smart to get too comfortable.
After docking, Niello stepped off the boat. He picked me up, lifting me over, then set me down next to him. We walked hand in hand to the restaurant, where the smell of divine seafood and tropical drinks made my mouth water and my stomach grumble.
Niello and I claimed a table, and after we ordered and ate until our stomachs were content, we relived our wedding by talking about it. I always loved when he told me stories about our life before. Each time he did, I could feel myself there more than the time before. It wasn’t necessary, or needed, but simply wanted.
Niello lifted his glass. “Here’s to the memories we get to live more than once, the ones we live and die for, and old monsters.”
We clanked glasses, but there was something in his eyes that was almost…playful. Andhere’s to old monsters?What the fuck was that about?
“What—”
