“A reflection of our beautiful years,” Brando said, his grip becoming firmer on my hand, and then he placed his mouth against it, the kiss lingering. “Sedersi.”
After helping me down, he took his seat next to me. Next to us, our children got comfortable, staring at the movie screen. A few of the guards stood outside, Saverio included.
As if on some silent cue, soft music began, and the screen lit up. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Pictures. Hundreds and hundreds of pictures of us. Of our years. All flashing, reflecting in my eyes, coming forward from the vault of memories that I kept in my heart.
A reminder of the years we had spent together.
I pushed closer to Brando, squeezing his hand so hard that my ring bit into flesh. He was holding onto me just as hard.
Instead of holding them back, I let the tears fall like cleansing rain. Emotions, life, not only pictures, played across the screen as they were playing across my heart.
Our life. So damn beautiful.
The song… the song did me in. He was essentially telling me that our life, to him, meant he touched heaven.
I wasn’t even sure what to say once the montage ended. Because it hadn’t ended.
He and I, and our children—we were still sitting, breathing, our hearts beating. We were still there. In the moment.
“When—” I went to wipe the tears from my face, but he did it for me.
“Not now,” he said, rubbing his fingertip against his bottom lip. “Kiss the kids.”
Each of our children got up and came to kiss me. My parents were taking them to the Christmas Festival, then back to their house for a sleepover. The dogs included.
After they were gone, and we were all alone, no guards, only us, he turned toward me, studying my face.
“When did you do this?” I asked, my heart hurting. In a way that made it clear that I hurt so I’d never forget, just as we had bled through the hard times to appreciate the beauty of the good.
“In Italy,” he said. “The woman you heard—she put this together. A professional. Matteo suggested we do something nice for you, and I—” he shrugged, and the tux seemed to stretch with his wide shoulders “—decided to remind you. At the time, you were struggling, forgetting that life still existed. That we still existed. You could depend on dance, my baby. It was yours. But so am I. No matter what. We’ve lived a beautiful life. We’re living a beautiful life. All those beautiful years—” he nodded to the screen “—are just the beginning.”
“Brando,” I whispered, touching his face.
He leaned into my palm, kissing me there, closing his eyes.
“You know who, and what, you are to me. Basically, what Mitch said. My Sunday. Close.” He opened his eyes, sat straighter, and took my face in his hands. “But not close enough. You’re something even more powerful, Scarlett Rose Fausti. You’re my ultimate forgiveness. You’re my heaven. Through you…amazing grace, I’m a forgiven man.”
“You see the light?”
He smiled, almost sadly. “Yeah, I do.”
I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “How. I—I mean, I love you. I love you so much. I don’t even have a word. How do I even find the right words?”
“Always,” he breathed.
“No matter what.”
He kissed the tears from my face. “I feel you, too, my baby. Words don’t matter. Not to us.”
We held each other for—how long? I couldn’t even say. It was never long enough when I was in his arms.
In his arms led to kissing, and kissing led to me on my back, dress fanning out around me.
“You owe me, Scarlett Rose Fausti,” he breathed against the pulse in my neck.
“Collect later,” I said, smiling against his mouth.
He grinned and shook his head. “Now.”
