Enrico deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth with care and passion, every movement whispering that this time, it would be different. This time, there would be no more mistakes. No more running. No more lies.
We finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, foreheads touching, our breaths mingling.
I realized that kiss mirrored our story perfectly: imperfect, intense, painful—but undeniably real, and meant to be rebuilt.
“What was that?” I murmured softly, unable to stop the small smile that curved my lips.
Enrico smiled gently, his lips still close to mine, the tip of his nose brushing my skin.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice rough and affectionate. “I just love you too much—and I needed to kiss you.”
Normally, in that moment, I would have pulled away.
This time, I didn’t.
I simply looked at him in silence for several long seconds, letting my eyes express everything I couldn’t say out loud—my hope, my fear, my desperate need for him not to hurt me again.
As if reading my thoughts, Enrico kissed me again—this time with tenderness, calm, and care—clearly offering his silent answer to all my insecurities:
Never again, my love. Never again.
SIXTY-THREE
ENRICO FERRARA
Valentina’s soft breathing warmed the skin of my chest as she slept deeply—stayed—nestled against me for the first time after so many weeks of slipping away the moment passion faded.
Her head fit perfectly against me, dark hair spread over my shoulder, her delicate face calm and peaceful.
My heart beat fast, still charged with everything that had happened that day. But more than the physical pleasure, what truly kept me awake was seeing her finally allow herself to relax at my side—without pulling back, without resisting.
I slid my hand into her hair, stroking it gently as I watched her sleep.
A powerful wave of emotion washed over me, mixing deep regret with an overwhelming gratitude for being given another chance.
My chest tightened as memories surfaced—everything we’d endured, especially my own failures.
“Forgive me, my love,” I whispered. “For every time I hurt you. For every tear you cried because of me. Never again, Valentina. I swear—never again.”
Her breathing stayed slow and steady, but unconsciously she moved closer, nestling even more tightly against my chest.
My heart raced at that simple gesture, as if it were a quiet confirmation—unspoken, instinctive—that she was beginning to trust me again.
“I’m going to make you happy,” I continued softly. “I’m going to fight for you and for Clara every single day for the rest of my life. I’ll win back every piece of your heart until there’s no room left for doubt or pain.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, absorbing that instant, knowing every second of that night would be etched into me forever. When I opened them again, I watched Valentina sleep with a peace I hadn’t seen on her face in years.
“I love you more than I can put into words,” I confessed quietly, my throat tightening with the force of that truth. “I love you more than my own life.”
Valentina sighed in her sleep, her lips curving into the faintest, almost imperceptible smile.
That smile warmed my heart, strengthening the growing hope inside me.
I kept watching her in silence, promising myself I would never again allow anything—or anyone—to pull her from my arms.
My life had found its purpose again: to care for, protect, and love Valentina and our daughter with everything my heart was capable of.
***
