We move together slowly, finding a rhythm that works with my pregnant body. It’s different from before—less frantic, more tender—but somehow even more intimate. Every thrust is deliberate, intentional, a promise of love instead of possession.
“I love you,” Luca says against my neck, his hips rocking steadily. “God, Gigi, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I gasp, wrapping my legs around him as best I can. “I love you, I love you.”
The pleasure builds slowly, a wave that grows higher and higher until I’m trembling on the edge. Luca quickens his pace, his hips slapping against mine. His whole body shakes with the effort but his hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together above my head. When I come apart again, he follows me over the edge, crying out my name.
Luca collapses against me and we lie tangled together, his hand resting on my belly where our baby sleeps. I trace patterns on his damp chest, mapping the scars he’s collected over the years.
“What are you thinking?” Luca asks quietly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high.
“I’m thinking about how far we’ve come,” I tell him honestly. “From that first night, when I was terrified of you, to now. It’s been a journey.”
“The worst beginning,” he agrees. “But maybe the best ending.”
“Not an ending.” I tilt my face up to kiss him, smiling against his lips. “A new beginning. The right kind this time.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my hip. “Do you ever regret it? Staying? Choosing this life?”
“No.” The answer is immediate. I can’t imagine my life without him. “I won’t lie and say I don’t sometimes think about what my life could have been if we’d met differently,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret loving you.”
Luca makes a pleased noise from my hands in his hair. “Even knowing what I’ve done? Who I was?”
I shake my head. “You’re not that person anymore.” I place my hand over his heart. “The man who burned down my clinic wouldn’t offer to build me a new one. The man who forced me into marriage wouldn’t have given me the choice to leave. The man who cared only about revenge wouldn’t be lying here talking about feelings.”
His lips quirk. “I’m still not great at the feelings part.”
“You’re better than you think.” I snuggle closer, fitting myself against him. “Besides, you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep trying, like you have been. Choosing love over anger.”
“I can do that,” he says, his chest rumbling. “For you and our baby, I can do anything.” He nudges my hand again. “And keep doing that, too.”
I laugh but acquiesce, continuing to run my fingers through his silken strands.
We fall into comfortable silence, just breathing together, existing in this perfect moment. Outside, the sun has fully set, and the first stars are appearing in the darkening sky.
“Gigi?” Luca’s voice is hesitant. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always,” I tell him, feeling a little sleepy.
“When I first forced you into this marriage, I told myself I was doing it for Marco. For revenge. For justice.” He pauses, and from the tension suddenly all over his body, it’s clear he’s choosing his words carefully. “But I think even then, some part of me knew. Some part of me looked at you and saw the possibility of something more.”
I’m suddenly wide awake. “What do you mean?”
He sighs. “I mean I could have taken your father and made him suffer directly for what he did. But I didn’t.” His hand tightens on my hip. “I took you instead. And I keep asking myself why. Why did I need you specifically? Why did your suffering satisfy something in me that his wouldn’t have?”
I’m quiet, letting him work through it.
“I think it’s because I saw myself in you,” he continues. “Someone trapped by circumstances they didn’t choose, trying to survive in a world that was bigger and more dangerous than they understood.” He pauses, wetting his lips. “And I wanted to see if you would break the way I did,” he admits, his voice low, “or if you’d find a way to stay whole despite everything.”
“And?” I prompt.
“You didn’t just stay whole. You became stronger.” His voice is full of wonder. “You faced down everything I threw at you and came out the other side more yourself than ever. You taught methat strength isn’t about how much damage you can absorb. It’s about staying soft in a hard world. About choosing love even when hate would be easier.”
Tears are pricking my eyes again. This man is going to kill me by crying.
“I’m not saying I’m glad things happened the way they did. I’m not trying to justify what I did to you.” He tilts my face up so I’m looking at him. “But Iamgrateful that somehow, through all the darkness, we found each other. Really found each other, beneath all the bullshit and fear.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m grateful too.”
