"Marina." Dante's voice is rough. Worried. "Marina, look at me."
I can't. I can't stop crying long enough to lift my head.
His arms slide under me. One behind my back, one beneath my knees. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, pulling me against his chest.
"There's no need to cry." His lips press against my temple. My cheek. The corner of my mouth. "Please don't cry."
I grab his face with both hands.
And I kiss him.
Hard.
Desperate.
He groans against my mouth and pulls me closer. His arms tighten around me until there's no space between us, until I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, until I forget where I end and he begins.
The puppy barks.
We break apart, breathing hard.
"You remembered," I whisper.
"I remember everything." His forehead rests against mine. "Every word. Every look. Every time you smiled when you thought I wasn't watching."
"Dante—"
"This is yours." He sets me down but doesn't let go. His hands frame my face. "The house. The garden. The dog that's probably going to chew everything we own. It's all yours."
"Ours," I correct him.
Something flickers in his eyes. Hope. Fear. The same vulnerability I saw when he broke down in the shower.
"Ours," he repeats. Like he's testing the word. Like he's not sure he's allowed to say it.
The puppy bounds down the porch steps and crashes into our legs. Its tail wags so hard it nearly knocks itself over.
I laugh through my tears and crouch down to pet it. Soft fur. Warm body. A pink tongue that immediately tries to lick my entire face.
"Does it have a name?" I ask.
"That's your job." Dante crouches beside me. The puppy immediately abandons me to climb into his lap. "I just bought the thing."
"You bought a house and a puppy."
"I adopted him. And I had the fence." He scratches behind the puppy's ears. "Don't forget the fence."
"I love you," I say.
The words feel too small. Too simple for everything I feel.
But Dante's face transforms. The tension drains out of his shoulders. His eyes soften.
"I love you too." He reaches for me, pulling me against his side while the puppy squirms between us.
The puppy yips and tries to climb up my chest. I catch it before it falls, laughing as it licks my chin.
"We should go inside," Dante says. "See the rest of it."
