Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Adamo followed her gaze and said something, which made her nod and turn back to him.
I released a shuddery breath. Nino watched everything closely, his eyes burning with hatred I usually only saw in Remo’s face.
Fabiano eventually gave a sign and Nino waved at the caregiver who waited in the door. Mrs. Falcone stared at us again as Adamo and Fabiano made their way back.
I was glad when we were in the car, and so was Nino. He started the car at once and drove us away.
“And?” I asked softly.
“She was nice, a bit confused. She called me Remo a few times,” Adamo said.
Nino jerked and the car briefly swerved.
“Hey,” Fabiano said, leaning forward. “Do you want me to drive?”
Nino ignored him, his fingers around the steering wheel tightening.
“What did you think, Fabiano?” I asked.
He shrugged, his gaze still on the back of Nino’s head. “Something about her was off, and I don’t just mean her being insane.”
Adamo was staring out of the side window with a lost expression.
“Do you want to visit her again?” I asked him.
Nino made a small sound but didn’t comment.
“I don’t think so. It was strange seeing her. I thought I’d feel something, but she is a stranger ... The word ‘mother’ is empty for me.”
Despite his words, I could hear the underlying longing in his voice, the wish for more, for a connection that might never be.
I could tell that the encounter still occupied Nino’s thoughts a day later as we lay in bed. He wasn’t his usual calm self and he hadn’t slept at all last night. There was an underlying restlessness that had me worried. Remo had gone off to work in the Sugar Trap when we’d headed out for the visit, and he hadn’t returned to the mansion yet. He, too, had my stomach turning itself with concern. First the thing with Serafina, now this. Remo was always toeing the edge of a dangerous abyss. I had a feeling a small nudge could send him over the edge.
I studied Nino’s colorful tattoos, lingering on the shadowy figure amidst raging flames on his upper arm and Remo’s name making up the glowing ambers. “This will give Adamo peace of mind. Now you can all move on.”
Nino turned toward me, his eyes emotionless. Now that I knew how different they looked when he showed emotions, seeing them like this always cut me deeply. “Neither of us will have peace as long as she’s there.”
“Pretend she isn’t there. She can’t get out of the hospital, so you don’t have to worry about her. She’s the past, Nino.”
“She’s there, always at the back of our minds.”
I sighed. “I know, but it’s because you and Remo keep her lodged there, because you treat her like unfinished business. Make peace with the fact that she’s alive, that you won’t kill her, and then you can move on.”
Nino frowned as if what I suggested was impossible.
I kissed his bearded chin. “Move on from the past so we can move forward into our future. We want a baby, we want a family of our own, don’t allow your mother to ruin that.”
Nino cupped my head and pulled me in for a harsh kiss. Gradually it grew softer until he pulled away. “Aren’t you going to have an ovulation soon?”
I stifled a laugh. Trust Nino to know my cycle better than myself. “I think so.”
Nino kissed me again and his fingers ghosted over my body, alighting it with desire and when we finally made love, it felt different—even if that didn’t make sense. But looking at Nino’s face I could tell he felt the same way because it felt like finally Nino wanted a baby as much as I did.
Nino twisted and turned in his sleep, waking me. He was having a bad dream. I turned on the bedside lamp. The sounds of distress were familiar and when I touched his shoulder, I expected the worst, another episode like the one he’d had before. I braced myself when Nino jerked awake. He stared at me for several moments, his eyes confused and agonized before slowly realization set in and the tension slipped away.
“Sometimes I think I’ve come to accept my emotions, and then this happens and I just want the quiet back,” he murmured.
“I know,” I said softly. “But you’ll be glad for your emotions when you hold your child for the first time.”
“I’m glad for my emotions when I look at you.”
Love flared in my heart and I snuggled up against Nino once more, resting my hand over the tattoo of my name on his forearm. I began to sing quietly and gradually Nino’s pulse slowed under my fingertips. His lips pressed against the top of my head and he extinguished the lights. My voice grew quieter as tiredness dragged me down and eventually, I fell asleep with Nino’s calm pulse beating under my touch.