Rafaele told me he loved me. His admission pulses inside my chest and seeps warmth into my veins as I rush upstairs after our conversation. I lock myself in my bedroom and make an honest attempt to untangle my thoughts and feelings.
Now that I know the full truth about what happened with Rafaele’s father, I can understand why Rafaele is the way he is. The thought of what he had to witness as a young child sends nausea churning through my gut. What he and his mother went through is horrific. I sometimes forget that our world isn’t only heartlessness toward women, but toward men too. No one is born a killer. One way or another, they are forged by their environment and by the people around them.
Rafe was visibly uncomfortable when he shared the full story with me. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he didn’t let that stop him. He told me something deeply private, deeply vulnerable about himself. How many times did I wish he’d open up to me? He finally did it.
And it didn’t feel like some tactic just to get me back. It felt genuine.
He really wants to fix this. To fix us.
Do I?
Longing snakes through me. I wanted to comfort him just now. To hug him, to kiss him, to say that everything will be okay. I managed to hold myself back though, because for once, I thought about the consequences of my actions.
If I jump back into this too quickly, driven by my raw emotions, I might regret it later on, and I don’t want to have any more regrets. I have too many already.
I curl up on the bed and scroll through the photos I have of us on my phone. There’s not many, but the few that are there make my chest clench.
The photo he asked the waitress to take of us at the Il Caminetto dinner. I look pissed as hell in that one. There’s another photo I snuck of him right before we headed to dinner at the Ferraros’. He’s glancing at me from under his brows as he’s fixing a cuff link, a hint of amusement in his expression. There are a few from my birthday party. A posed photo I got Vale to take of us on the terrace. A selfie from the afterparty. He’s smiling, looking at me instead of the camera.
Cleo, when I look at you, I see the entire universe. It took losing you for me to understand that you are everything to me.
That flicker of hope comes alive inside my chest again. Only now, instead of stomping it out, I allow the memory of our conversation to feed the tiny flame.
I spend the rest of the day in my room, avoiding everyone, and I have my dinner brought to me. Vale comes knocking as I’m getting ready for bed.
“Do you want to skip the concert tomorrow given everything?” she asks as she peeks inside.
Shit. I completely forgot we had plans to go out. A band we both like is playing in Naples, and she got us tickets. We’ve been looking forward to this, and I don’t want to back out just because Rafe showed up. What am I going to do for the next few days? Hide in my room and think about him nonstop? Maybe it’ll be good to get out of the house and have a distraction for a few hours.
“I still want to go.”
Vale’s smile is careful. “If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She takes one step inside and closes the door behind her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I just need some time to think about everything. Rafaele is really trying…” I sigh. “He told me he loved me.”
Vale’s expression softens. “About time.”
“I know, fucking finally, huh? But is it too late?”
“I don’t know. Do you still love him?”
Do I? There’s a thick layer of hurt on top of whatever other feelings I have for him, but I can’t deny that he’s managed to get past it. Somewhat. But I’m not sure that his change of heart is enough to fix our relationship. He might say he loves me now, but that doesn’t erase the fact that his consigliere is dead because of what happened.
Nero. Dead.
It still doesn’t feel real.
A prickling sensation appears behind my eyes. “I don’t know if it matters. Even if I still love him, I am the reason his best friend is dead.”
Vale comes over to sit down on the edge of the bed and wraps an arm around me. “Cleo, that is the world we live in. You know that.”
I lean my head against her shoulder. “It’s why I’ve always wanted to get away from all of this. The nonstop heartbreak and pain. And I’m almost there. I can do whatever I want now that I’m in Italy. Do I really want to give all that up for another chance with Rafaele?”
That’s the real choice I have to make. Say goodbye to him and start a new life in Europe or go back to the life I know in New York. The life I used to hate before I married him.
Vale sighs. “We don’t get to choose what life we’re born into, but we all have the ability to find our own path if we’re willing to pay the price. I had to be brave enough to escape Lazaro and leave New York. I didn’t leave our world, not completely, but I found a corner of it that works for me. Damiano is a don, but he’s also the love of my life.”
“But don’t you think it would be so much better if you and him were just normal people?”
”Do I sometimes wish I didn’t have to worry about whether he comes home alive after a trip away? Of course. But I also recognize that he wouldn’t be the man he is if he was removed from all of this.” She huffs and smiles. “And I really like who he is.”
Rafaele, no longer a don? It’s impossible to imagine. The man was born to lead. And the truth is…I admire that about him. He’s got men who rely on him and a family that thrives under his leadership. He would never leave that behind, and I could never ask him to do so.
So if I choose him, I have to embrace all of it. No more rebellion, no more resistance, no more denying the reality of my situation. I would have to be all in.
I press a kiss to Vale’s cheek. “I think I need to get some sleep. My head feels like it’s about to explode.”
She gives me another hug and gets up. “Take the time you need. I won’t let him rush you.”
The next day, my breakfast magically appears in my room before I even ask for it. Damn, Vale is well on her way to getting the sister of the year award. I eat my eggs and toast and drink my coffee while sitting by the window and watching birds make a nest in the tree in the backyard.
Around midday, I hear Rafaele’s voice outside my door.
“Can I talk to her?”
“She will come to you when she wants to,” Vale says firmly.
“Will you tell her I’d like to see her?”
“I will, Rafaele. Can you stop hovering by her door like a ghost and go downstairs? My staff don’t know what to do with you.”
I lift my hand to my lips. He’s been hovering outside my room? I tiptoe toward the door and press my ear against it. There’s the sound of retreating footsteps.
Vale did the right thing shooing him away, because I still don’t know what I want to do.
Do I miss him? Yes.
I miss his touch, and his kisses, and the way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. But will we ever get that back given everything that has happened?
I’m not sure.
When six p.m. rolls around, I start getting ready for the concert. My suitcase is still lying open on the floor. I never really unpacked when I arrived here. I dig through the clothes I brought and pull out a forest-green dress I haven’t worn yet. It’s low cut with a bow right below my chest, billowy long sleeves, and a flowy skirt that reaches my mid-thigh. I let my hair out of its braid and swipe on a bit of makeup.
When I’m finished, I walk up to the mirror and do a twirl. I’m a bit overdressed for a rock concert, but that’s just because I feel like it. It’s definitely not because I want to look good in case I bump into Rafaele downstairs.
He’s not there anyway. I walk into the empty living room and ignore the small twinge of disappointment.
Vale appears a short while later. “Ready?”
“Yes. Your husband isn’t here to send you off?”
“He and Rafaele are talking business in his office.”
Oh. I swallow and paste on a smile. “Let’s go then.”
We get into the car waiting outside for us and arrive at the venue accompanied by a driver and two guards. When we arrive, the opening act is already playing. We head up to the VIP area and grab a couple beers.
“This band’s great,” Vale says, her head bopping along to the music.
The VIP area quickly fills up with more and more people. Our guards are standing off to the side, close enough that they’d be able to reach us in no time if needed. I turn back toward the stage and focus on the music.
Are Damiano and Rafaele still talking to each other back at the house? I wonder what they’re discussing. With Nero gone, Rafaele will have to make a lot of changes to how he runs things.
Frustration zaps through me. Ugh. I came here so that I wouldn’t think about him, but here I am, thinking about him all the same.
A prickling sensation spreads over my neck, like someone’s watching me. I turn my head and lock onto a pair of ice-blue eyes on the other side of the VIP area.
