The Mafia And His Angel: Part 3 (Tainted Hearts 3)

She got up and went to the piano. When Ayla settled on the bench, I stood up and went to her. Standing behind her, I placed my hand over her round stomach.

When a hard kick pressed against my palm, I smiled. “The little fighter is feisty. He is cheering you on too.”

Ayla placed her fingers on the keyboard, and I waited. She pressed a key. A note played. And then another key.

Two notes and she stopped. Her shoulder dropped in defeat.

When I couldn’t bear the dejected look on her face any longer, I leaned forward. “It’s okay, Angel. We have all the time. You can try when you are ready. I won’t push you.”

Ayla stayed quiet, and I kissed her cheek before moving my lips to her ear.

And then I whispered the one thing I had been desperate to say for a long time.

She stiffened, and I saw her hands shaking.

My lips turned up in a smile.

When I saw a single tear trail down her cheek, I kissed it away and whispered the words again.

“I love you, my Angel.”

Chapter 11

The words slipped past my lips effortlessly. I said them without any remorse but full with adoration for the woman in front of me.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have believed those words were possible. But now, it felt like I would suffocate if I didn’t say them.

My chest felt lighter, and I finally could breathe. Ever since Ayla was taken from me, I regretted never saying those words to her.

Maybe it was because I never realized them before. I never thought of loving someone. Hell, I never thought I was capable of loving someone.

The moment Ayla was snatched from me, I realized my mistake.

She was everything and more. I would cherish her for the rest of our lives.

My hand lingered on Ayla’s cheek. Another tear fell, and I trailed the drop with the tip of my finger. I saw her breathing change, and her cheeks flushed beautifully.

Ayla closed her eyes tightly, and she took a deep breath. I waited for her reaction. I waited for her to say something—anything.

When she didn’t respond, I kissed her cheek and leaned back, giving her space. I would wait for her, for however long needed.

Ayla opened her eyes again and stared at the piano. With her fingers resting on the keyboard, she caressed the piano keys gently. She appeared lost in her thoughts. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

A frustrated sound escaped past her lips, and I saw droplets of sweat start to form on her forehead and neck. When her hands tightened in fists, my heart sank.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her up. After taking her place on the bench, I pulled Ayla on my lap. She froze for a moment. I saw her swallow hard before slowly settling against me. She burrowed in my chest and sighed almost dreamily.

“You want to remember, don’t you?” I asked, holding her hands in mine. Ayla nodded, hiding her face in my chest.

I sighed, entwining our fingers together. “I want you to remember too.”

She didn’t say anything. Silence fell upon us, and for the first time, I didn’t like the silence between us. I wanted her voice.

Ayla took her hands out of mine and placed them on the piano again. I sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers made contact with the piano keys.

My lungs felt like they were pressed together as I fought to breathe.

Ayla pressed down on the keys, and a few notes filled the room. My heart stuttered when she closed her eyes, a pained look on her face.

My Angel hiccupped back a sob and pushed her face in my chest again. Her voice was a mere whisper. “I…can’t…”

Tilting her head up, I kissed her softly. “Let me in, Angel. Just give me a chance to prove to you that there is a beautiful world out there. Let me love you the way you deserve,” I begged against her full lips.

I sat frozen when Ayla brought her hands up. Her hands hovered over my cheeks for a second. I caught the flash of uncertainty on her face before she finally palmed my cheeks. Her eyes were closed, but her fingers moved over my rough stubble.

Ayla mindlessly caressed my cheek as she let out a pained sigh. “I don’t remember. I try, but I can’t.”

She laid her head on my shoulder, her hand still touching me. “My head…hurts when I try.”

Ayla brought her other hand to my chest. “And it hurts here too. I don’t want to remember…because it hurts.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my chest began to burn. I forced myself to relax even though I was feeling anything but calm.

A mixture of grief, pain, regret, and love swamped me as I fought to catch my breath. So much grief. For everything we had lost. And love—for this woman.