Sei il mio sole, la mia luna, e ogni stella del mio cielo.
I lean closer and whisper against her ear, and feel her shiver at the proximity. “I was just adding the finishing touch I didn’t give it that day, because I was afraid of scaring you.”
Cecilia leans further into me.
“You said that to me the first night we slept together,” she says, her tone fond with memory. “I didn’t understand it then. And I didn’t feel the need to ask. Your eyes told me everything I needed to know.”
She pauses, looking at the canvas. “But now I recognize what it means.”
“You are my sun, my moon, and every star in my sky,” she says, a smile laced into her voice.
She turns in my arms and kisses me.
“I’m going to the bathroom really quickly,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb over my hand, “before I eat the breakfast that woke me up with that incredible smell.”
We decide to have breakfast at her desk instead of in bed. I feel relieved when I see Cecilia finish her food; I know how deeply her emotions affect her appetite, how easily she neglects herself when everything becomes too much.
Afterward, she asks if we can go back to bed, admitting she isn’t ready to face the day just yet.
I strip down to my boxers. As soon as I lean against the pillows, Cecilia rests her head on my shoulder, our legs tangling. We lie there in silence, her hand tracing idle circles on my chest while my fingers drift along her arm.
“Do you still want to be with me?” she murmurs, a teasing lilt in the question. “Or have you already ordered the jet prepped to fly back to Pisa as soon as possible?”
I hook a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face gently until I can look into her eyes.
“Why would I do that?” I ask, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it from her.
“Now you know everything,” she says. “Colin. My parents. My father’s past, which seems to have more skeletons in the closet than I ever imagined.” She hesitates. “Any man who wanted to walk away from all this baggage... no one would blame him.”
I keep my expression serious, my hand cupping her cheek.
“A man with no character, perhaps,” I reply calmly. “A weak man. A man who didn’t love you the way I do. The way you deserve.”
I slide my hand to the nape of her neck and press a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger there. When I pull back and meet her gaze again, I speak from somewhere deep in my soul.
“If anything, what you told me yesterday only made me love you more.” My thumb brushes her cheek. “Being the woman you are, the woman you show me every day without even trying. Even after everything you’ve been through... I’m in awe of you. And I’m so damn grateful that you love me too.”
Tears slip from her eyes. I kiss them away without thinking.
“All I want,” I tell her, holding her gaze, “is to make sure none of this ever touches you again. That no one ever hurts you.”
My voice hardens. “If I had to destroy each of them or anyone
who poses a risk to you to make it happen, I would.”
More tears fall, and I kiss each one away.
“Ti amo, Alexander,” she whispers, cupping my face before pulling my mouth to hers.
I draw her flush against me, letting our bodies speak what no word in any language ever could.
Chapter 27
the sister life gave me
Mark
“How did it go at the hospital?” I ask, turning toward her.
