She scoffed. “That’s the strangest proposal ever.Ti amo, Angelo.”
“Amore mio, ti amo.”
39
June
My blue dress—that I had worn for my sister’s wedding and wore again, especially for Angelo, so he’d see me in something other than my regular clothes—and the sky-blue set of soy-silk panties and bra were discarded somewhere on Angelo’s bedroom floor.
Ourbedroom.
I almost ripped the clothes off him and myself, so eager I was to feel him, taste him, inhale him. He was mine, and I was his, and I wanted to shout it or moan it from the rooftops.
I pushed myself up and made him roll to his back so I could be on top of him. I needed the freedom to glide my hands over his chest and arms, across the writing on his side. I wanted to be able to see it all while I touched him. I was famished for Angelo and wanted all my senses to participate.
But after I guided him into me and moved above him, Angelo lifted himself and wrapped me in his arms, threading his fingers in my hair and melding my mouth down on his. We kissed, breathing together, holding tight, our bodies slick, our hearts beating in synch.
When our relentless pace intensified and the noises I made, fueled by his groans, could have reached the rooftops, Angelo caught hold of my hands, interlaced his fingers in mine, and pinned our joined hands behind my back, causing me to still above him.
I veered my head so I could look at him, and we gazed into each other’s eyes, panting. It was as if everything, not just us, had stilled. This silence, this gaze, and what we found in each other’s eyes, made me slant my mouth down on his again, my hands still pinned behind me, and we kissed deep and slow before we started thrusting in synch again to the loud end.
We lingered, wrapped in each other like that for a long moment, until we both leaned sideways and fell on the mattress, lying on our sides, face-to-face, my thighs wrapped around his.
Angelo smoothed his hand over my face and neck, holding my gaze. I caressed his cheek.
“So, how is this going to work for real?” I asked.
Angelo smiled, as if he’d been waiting for me to make some pragmatic remark. “Didn’t you make up a list on the way here?” He ran his finger over my nose.
“I actually did.”
He laughed. “Let’s hear it.”
“It was just a contingency list because I didn’t know what was going to happen once I got to San Francisco.”
“Really? You didn’t?” he teased, eyebrows raised. Putting his fingers on my neck and sliding them slowly to my chest, he said, “That pink glow gives you away every time.” Then, with his arm around me, he rolled to his back, hauling me with him to recline on top of him.
I propped myself up a bit and looked down into his face. “Okay, okay,” I admitted, feeling that glow sneaking up my cheeks. “I was thinking that we could do what we said in the interview we were doing—split our time between here and Riviera View. Now that I have good managers in both shops, I can be away from time to time and not physically there every day. And you can keep and develop the workshop at the back, soundproof it even, or we could find you a bigger space in Riviera View.”
“I knew your lists would save us!” Angelo chuckled. “You nailed it. It’s doable. I already did this, so I know.”
What he didn’t know was that my list included things like:live less engineeringly, relax some of my rules, enjoy life, feel it. And, most importantly,experience it all with Angelo.
I wanted it all with the man who, despite every wall I’d thrown up and every determination I ever had to keep him out, had somehow managed to see me, love me as I was, make me feel alive, and grow into the cracks of my heart until he had fully sprouted there. I wanted to give him what he gave me, be to him what he was to me.
“I have to go back tomorrow, but I can come again this weekend,” I said.
“I’ll come to you. I want us to be where it started but as we are now.”
I had never seen so much love in anyone’s eyes looking at me as I saw in Angelo’s at that moment, and I hoped that he could see the same in mine.
I choose you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Getting breakfast in a little café that offered a vegan menu not far from Angelo’s building the next morning, we decided that we would tell people a version of what we’d told Rio—that we’d met, fallen in love, kept it a secret, and had discreetly gotten married. Although Angelo’s status had been approved and our marriage was indeed bona fide, we didn’t want to risk anyone with the truth of how it had started. We agreed that I would talk to my family and bring Rio up to date on the marriage part.
Going back home without him felt strange. I was leaving my other half, my better half behind.
