“I am happy.” Maybe that’s why I feel strong enough to find out.
I am more balanced, more grounded. Vian offers me a stability that makes me better equipped to deal with the outcome.
Whatever I find out, it’s in the past. Even if it affects me, it will not disturb my newfound happiness.
“I advise you against it. We’ve tried it before. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Is that the only reason?” I ask, watching him through a microscopic lens. There’s a minimal movement in his jaw that quickly vanishes.
With my past, I can’t be anything but paranoid. He’s been by my side for so long, yet I still question whether he could betray me. I shake my head at the preposterous idea. This man is loyal to a fault.
“With the whole move to Chicago and all the logistics involved, I don’t think the time is right.”
Is there a good time to uncover a truth that could change everything? I doubt there is, but not knowing is another type of hell.
“I hear your concerns,” I say, and he nods, leaving me to wallow in my thoughts.
Leaning back in the chair, I play with my engagement ring. Strangely, it doesn’t feel odd to wear the ring gifted to me by my former love next to the wedding band that will forever connect me to my husband. They complement each other just like we do, two imperfect parts that together form the perfect whole.
In the beginning, it was about putting a face to the man I’d mourned in silence, longing to identify him. Then it shifted to Vian, as if they were the same. My quest is less about my former fiancé now and more about figuring out the discrepancies. I need clarity more than closure. I can’t simply let the past rest, buried like an entire chunk of my life. Four years, to be exact, but I can’t give up.
My phone rings, yanking me from my thoughts and eliciting a smile when I see Vian’s name flashing on the screen. I am irrevocably and undeniably his.
Not jealous of the one who came before me anymore.
No longer pining for a man who is long gone.
I am secure in my feelings and his. In our love.
I pick up, and a deep groan greets me. “Fuck. I miss you like crazy.”
“Counting the days?”
“The damn hours, minutes, and seconds,” he says, sounding serious. “It’s been three days, five hours, forty minutes, and fifteen seconds as we speak.”
I love his desperation. “You win even though it’s no competition.”
“Does that mean you miss me too?”
“You know I do,” I sigh dreamily.
If I close my eyes, I can see his smirk, the deep satisfaction etched on his face. “How are things going?”
“My uncle’s health is declining rapidly. The only fucking thing I can’t control.”
We’ll make the announcement only after his uncle dies. Until then, he keeps the other families in check while my men gather every piece of information they can about the other Mafia members.
Knowledge of the people I will deal with regularly is essential.
“Two more days,” I murmur.
A deep sigh reaches my ears. “That’s two more days without you.”
I end the call wearing the biggest smile, and after several online meetings and phone calls, I realize it’s time for dinner when I hear a jet landing nearby.
I check my calendar, but there are no visitors scheduled today.
There is only one person it could be, and rushing to the window a few minutes later, I spot him in the Jeep nearing the main house.
