"Little tigress," he starts, lifting my hand to his mouth. I hold still, even though a shiver goes down my spine at the pet name and the fact that he's touching me so tenderly. "It's getting harder and harder to be away from you." His lips brush back and forth against the back of my hand, his warm breath tantalizing my senses. Goosebumps spread all over my skin. I hope he doesn't realize the change or the fact that I tremble slightly every time he brushes his thumb over my wrist.
Why does he have to be so seductive? So magnetic?
"Every year, I hope it's going to be the last and you're finally going to wake up. But…" he pauses, and a liquid drop trickles down my hand. It takes me a moment to realize it's tears as muffled sounds accompany the wetness.
He's… crying? For me?
He comes to visit weekly, but until now he's only talked to me about Luca—he'd tell me about his hobbies, how he's really enjoying his piano lessons, and how his first small show had been a success. His conversations had never touched on anything sensitive, and I'd been grateful for it. Most of all, I'd been happy to hear more about my baby boy—details that I otherwise would have never known.
"Do you know, when I thought your sister had killed you, I'd been ready to obliterate every one of them. I had my gun loaded and wouldn't have hesitated to create a bloodbath. Worse than anything is that…" Another pause as he takes a deep breath, the back of my hand against his wet cheek. "If it hadn't been for Luca, I would have killed myself too." The words are soft, barely above a whisper.
My heart stops in my chest, his words hitting me so hard I almost gasp out loud. But I hold it all in.
"In that moment, all I saw was vengeance. Because they had taken you from me before I managed to show you just how much you mean to me." He squeezes my hand, his voice almost broken as he continues. "And sometimes, like today, I ask myselfif any of this is worth it… if…" His throat clogs up, and so does mine as my eyes get moist behind my lids. "If you never wake up. What am I going to do if you never wake up?"
"And so I thought about something. When Luca is old enough to move out on his own, I can join you."
It takes everything inside me not to react to that statement, but when he starts going into detail about his plans, including the venues he's chosen where we can be together forever—cryogenic sleep, he calls it—my heart starts beating out of control.
The beeps on the monitor reflect the sudden change; the sounds become shorter in interval.
"Tigress," he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, incredulity dripping from that one word.
He must have noticed my heartbeat as well.
Damn it!
But how am I supposednotto react when he's saying things like that?
"You can hear me?" his voice is so soft, his breath fanning over my skin as he starts kissing my pulse point.
Did he have to go for that spot? Damn, it's getting a little hot in here.
I don't reply, emptying my mind and trying to calm my erratic heart.
"God, if you can hear me, please come back to me. I'll do anything you want; I swear. I'll never kill another person in my life if that's what you want. We can move somewhere else. Anything, little tigress. Just please come back to me."
His pained cry touches me deep in my soul, and I don't know how I manage to keep it together. He continues to talk to me about this perfect life that we'd have together with Luca and other children, about how he'd never upset me again.
And I waver.
There's such sincerity in his voice, such emotive candor thatI barely restrain myself from jumping out of bed and into his arms.
But that would be weak.
How many times have I given in to him before? Only to be disappointed again and again?
The perfect life he so fondly talks about would be just an illusion, one that would eventually shatter, and I'd be left like before—battered and bleeding and picking up the pieces of my broken heart.
This resolve is the only thing that helps block out everything—even the sweet kiss he lays on my lips as he stands up to leave.
"What happened?" Lia bursts through the door a while later.
Moving to a standing position, I wipe my eyes, dabbing at the small trickle of moisture that has made its way down my cheeks.
"Signor looked so bad. Did he say anything? What happened?" she continues to probe, but I just shake my head.
"Nothing," I say, waving my hand dismissively. "Let's start planning."
