“You want to know how I feel about you, my sweetmeraviglia?”
I gulp. “Y-yes, I do.”
“You make me feel like I’m a whole new person. Life was dull with occasional pops of color before you. Now it’s a goddamn rainbow whenever you’re near, and I feel like I could scream when I’m without you. Not seeing your face for two months was hell, but I was so fucking proud of you, and happy for you that you were getting the help you needed.”
He inhales, catching his breath from saying so many words so quickly.
“You say you want to know how I feel about you? I’ve been in love with you for far too long to admit when it happened. I didn’t even know it was happening at first, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening—not that I ever would. Anya, you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of in a wife, and unless you decide otherwise, I plan to make that dream come true eventually. I love you, and you don’t need to say it back?—”
I cut him off before he can continue. “I love you too. I don’t know if I knowhowto love you yet, but I won’t deny that I do. You make me so happy. So much so that I’ve been waiting days just to kiss you again.”
Matteo doesn’t care that we might be seen, he hears my desire to kiss him, and he makes it happen. He closes the space between us in almost an instant, cupping my face and pulling me close.
Once again, his mouth tastes like chocolate, and I find that it may be my new favorite flavor. His face has only the slightest bit of stubble, the hair beginning to grow back after being freshly shaved. The warmth of his soft lips steals away the remaining cold from mine, and I sigh against his mouth.
Matteo loves me.
The reality sinks in, and I’m filled with warm, fuzzy butterflies.
We share the same air, breathing in from our noses as our lips part and our eyes flutter open.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he says, the words brushing against my lips.
I gasp, hearing the lovely Russian coming from him.
“How…”
“I’ve been learning a little,” he says, continuing to speak in my family’s language. “Ivan, Dmitri, and Anatoly have been taking turns teaching me for the last few months. Anatoly says my accent is shit, but that I learn quickly.”
“Oh my God.” I grab his face and claim his lips, kissing him hard and fast. “I can’t believe you would do that for me. I don’t know even a little bit of Italian.”
“Yeah, well?—”
Whatever he’s going to say is cut off by the sound of slamming doors and yelling. It’s too fast to understand what’s going on before Uncle Lev has stormed over to us and forced us to separate. There’s no time to protest as things escalate faster than I can speak.
My uncle grabs Matteo by his shirt, pulling him to his feet and winding his arm back before throwing it forward. The sound of his fist connecting with Matteo’s face is a sickening crack that makes me shout in high-pitched shock.
Matteo grunts but he doesn’t collapse. He’s knocked off balance and catches himself by dropping to one knee, his hand flying up to his jaw, holding the area where he’s just been struck.
“Fuck,” Matteo spits.
“Uncle Lev!” I screech, eyes widening in horror.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” my uncle growls, pointing an accusatory finger down at my boyfriend.
My boyfriend.
Matteo is mine, and my uncle just assaulted him for no reason.
Mustering up all my strength, I shove my uncle away. I’m not even surprised when he stumbles to the side.
“How could you?” I demand, voice cracking.
“Hekissedyou.” He says the word like it’s a mortal sin, like it’s dirty.
“Ikissed him!” I scream, pushing him again. He doesn’t move this time. Aunt Irina has finally caught up to her husband, and my dad seems to have realized what just happened as he comes jogging out to meet us all.
“Get out,” I demand, snarling up at my uncle. “Go away! I don’t want to see you again until you apologize for what you just did.”
