The old her sometimes seeps through the facade of grief. I miss my vivacious mother, but I can understand grief as well. Maybe one day she’ll overcome her pain. Maybe she won’t. And that’s okay.
“Morning.”
“Someone is in a good mood,” she assesses, smiling fondly.
I shrug. Fidgeting with my fingers in my lap, I feel the blush heating my cheeks, preferring to remain silent. I am afraid that if I open my mouth, I will proclaim my love for him.
Looking out the window, the sun shines brightly, kissing the arid land where a cacti garden blossoms. You can’t stop life from emerging, regardless of the harsh conditions, just like love.
“Your brother will understand, eventually.”
I roll my eyes at her. She should know her son better than that.
The corners of my mouth pull down. “Some things are just not meant to be.”
She waves an elegant hand through the air, taking on a no-nonsense voice. “That doesn’t stop people from coveting them even more. Like your brother. Use that to your advantage.”
“But—”
She taps her chin as if in deep thought, wearing a mischievous gleam. “I want grandkids.”
I burst into laughter and shake my head at her. “I’m sure Enzo and Calla won’t waste any time.”
“I hope not,” she sighs dreamily. “This house has been too silent, too depressed. I miss children playing. And I want both my children to be happy. I would say your choice of partners is questionable, though. But I also know you’re in good hands with them.”
I giggle. Standing up, I lean in to kiss her cheek. “See you later.”
Inspiration overcomes me. A new melody plays in my head, and I lock myself in the music room, trying to bring the notes to life as I delve into its core.
My hands fly over the keys. The high notes echo with new chances, with life blossoming. It energizes me, and as I pour all my hopes and dreams into the improvised composition, I smile. I am no longer broken. And that’s okay. Because broken means you survived. That should be celebrated, not mourned.
Time always flies when I play, so no wonder it’s been three hours.
Mika is not a long sleeper, so I rush to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I take what I need: different cheeses and salami, plus some grapes. I also add Russian crackers and the meat he likes.
Going to the wine cellar, I select a medium-dry bottle and place it in the basket, then pick a large blanket from the drawer in the storage room.
Another hour passes as I finish preparing the picnic basket.
Every minute fills my lungs with longing so that my breaths come out shallow. I am needy for him, greedy for every moment. Insatiable to my core.
He needs his sleep, I remind myself, hating that it has more to do with the fact that time is not on our side. The forbidden thrives in stolen moments, demanding urgency to capture its essence, bottling it up to live off until another opportunity presents itself.
Outside, I shield my eyes from the ball of fire reigning over the sky, sending a heatwave through me. The pool glistens like a blanket of diamonds reflecting the sun’s light, inviting me in to cool, but that can wait.
I search for Kill, and it doesn’t take me long to find him with Lorenzo, the head of security at the compound.
I wanted Kill to stay with me, but my brother said I’d ruin his dog even more.Whatever.Lorenzo throws a ball at him,always changing his routine from playing to training him to be a watchdog.
“Kill,” I whistle, and he perks his ears before running to me, leaving a trail of dust behind.
He’s getting bigger. No wonder he overpowers me as he barrels into me. I land on my back in the grass, giggling as he licks my face and I coo at him.
Lorenzo rushes to my side, checking on the broken, frail princess. I am so done with people treating me like a delicate porcelain doll.
“I’m fine,” I grit out as I pat Kill, kissing his head. “Good boy.”
He licks my hand, and I pluck a treat from my pocket. Dogs are so much better than people, simple in their needs, unequivocal about their wants.
