“Are you saying that house belongs to me?” He nodded, and she blinked a few times as she tried to absorb the information. “I don’t want it. I don’t want anything that belonged to those people.”
Frowning, Carmine grabbed her hand. “Look, don’t think of it as them giving you anything, but after what you’ve been through, you kinda deserve this. It’s like atonement. And I’m not saying any amount of money will make up for it, because it won’t. But after all of the torture and everything you lost, you’re at least entitled to this. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“And money will help with these things,” he said, grabbing the papers and shifting them around so the citizenship certificate was back on top.
“What happens to me now? I’m still here . . .”
“My father said you can stay here as long as you want, but you don’t have to.”
“But where else would I go?”
“Wherever you want,” he said. “I told you that. California, New York, Timbuktu, Bum Fuck Egypt . . . You name it, we’ll go. Or you can go alone. Whatever you want.”
Tears streamed from her eyes, and she clutched the papers as her hands shook. Carmine pulled her down onto the bed as emotion took control and rocked her body in his embrace. Overwhelmed, she didn’t know what to think. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you, Carmine.”
They stared at each other, his green eyes a flurry of emotion. He wiped the tears from her cheeks before his fingertips brushed across her lips. She let out a shaky breath as he kissed her, finally let go of the papers. They dropped to the bed as she ran her fingers through his unruly hair.
“Ti amo,” he whispered against her mouth. “La mia bella ragazza. I want you to marry me.”
She gasped. “Marry you?”
“I don’t mean today or tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be this year or, fuck, next year. But someday, when you’re ready, promise you’ll spend your life with me?” His words made her stomach flutter. “Look, I know I’m doing this shit all wrong, but—”
“Okay.” Her voice cracked. “Yes.”
He stalled. “Yes?”
“Of course I will, Carmine!”
His face lit up as he smashed his lips to hers feverishly, and she laughed into his mouth, kissing him back. The outside world melted away as his hands roamed her body, his fingertips causing sparks to ignite across her skin. Knowing she was free and had a life of her own, and that despite everything she’d been in the past, he still wanted her for the future, made her insides burst into flames of passion.
* * *
It was early evening when Carmine pulled into a parking lot across from the dingy brick apartment building in the city. The old elevator vibrated as it took them to the sixth floor, and they headed down a narrow hallway to apartment sixty-seven.
Carmine reached up to knock, but the door opened before he could. Dia stood before them, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a blue top, her hair a mixture of black and purple streaks. “Happy birthday!”
She ushered them inside, and Haven froze the moment she stepped into the front room. The walls were a cream color, the paint barely visible due to the hundreds of photographs wallpapering every inch. The apartment was decorated in colors so vibrant the large bunch of birthday balloons blended in. There were presents next to them and a small, round cake.
Gratitude and guilt battled for control. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Don’t be a buzzkill,” Dia said, pulling her over to the table. Haven sat down as Carmine leaned against the wall and gazed at her.
Dia stuck candles into the cake and lit them, stepping off to the side to belt out the birthday song. Haven stared at the flickering flames, remembering to make a wish this time.
Please, she silently pleaded. Bring my mama back to me.
Taking a deep breath, Haven blew out the candles and watched the puffs of smoke rise from the smoldering wicks. Dia pulled them out before thrusting a present at her, making her flinch.
“Sorry,” Dia said quickly. “I’m just excited for you to see it.”
Haven opened the package and pulled out a small copper box with a glass window on the top of it. Inside the window was a four-leaf clover, along with red hearts and shiny silver beading.
“It’s a reliquary box,” Dia said. “You’re supposed to store your favorite things in it.”
o;Is this why we don’t see Grandma? Were you afraid she’d tell us the truth?”