A text comes through. It’s Luca wondering if I’m okay. Fuck, in all of this I hadn’t called him tonight like I usually did. I call him. “I’m sorry, I forgot to call you. Today has been... busy.”
“Business or personal?”
“You have a sister; her name is Sophia Rose. She goes by Rosie.”
Luca laughs. “And that’s why I always wear a rubber. No way am I going to wake up one day and find out I have a kid I didn’t know about. Damn, Pop. Do you think you got any more running around out there?”
“I have no idea. Rosie was planned though and wanted. Never doubt even though you weren’t planned, you were always wanted.” I never want him to think I’m not grateful he’s here.
“You found her, the one who ran away. You’re full of regret right now. How badly did you fuck up?”
“So bad I don’t know if I can come back from it,” I admit.
His sigh is loud in my ear. “I don’t buy that. She walked away and was the one to fuck up big. You wanted to hurt her. Did you want to hurt her or to make it you fucked up worse so you don’t deserve her the way you’ve been feeling you didn’t?”
Had I really done that? “Fuck me, I don’t know anymore.”
“Maybe you should figure that out. Go talk to her. Use your words, Pop.” He ends the call.
I go back inside. There is no sign of Christy downstairs. I find her in Rosie’s room, sleeping with Rosie on the small, twin bed. For two long minutes, I stare down at them. My woman and my baby girl, so alike. The love I feel for each of them is almost beyond bearing, yet it’s two very different kinds of love.
Today Rosie clung to me like a vine, her sweet mouth running nonstop. I only had to gently ask one question for the answer, along with a dozen other things she was sure were just as important were also told to me.
Vito dropped Dominic off on our way home from the airport. I think Vito’s eyes popped out of his head at the sight of me carrying Rosie off the plane. He did a double-take for sure when Rosie waved at him and called him by his name. She knew he was my best friend because her mommy had told her. That means he was her best friend too. Which was nice because she didn’t have any best friends.
My daughter grew up a lonely child. I clench my hands in memory. If she had grown up with me, she would have had Matteo as a playmate. Alicia and Cesare’s son was born within weeks of her. I work to force back the anger. Quel che e fatto, e fatto. What’s done is done. If I don’t let go of this anger, I’m going to destroy the both of us with it.
I pick up Christy and carry her into our room. I pull back the covers, put her on the bed, and tuck her in. Undressing, in the walk-in closet I find she has added more clothes to the closet. Tension eases inside me. I never removed her clothes, everything of hers remained even when Carmella must have asked a dozen times if I wanted to get rid of it. She would need something when I found her and brought her kicking and screaming back to me was my thought, so it all stayed.
When I walk out of the closet, I feel her eyes on me. I turn off the light as I get in bed. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I listen to her breathing.
“I’m sorry.” I run a hand over my face. “I should never have touched you like that. No matter what you did, you didn’t deserve—”
She moves, her mouth is on mine. Her kiss is desperate, and I fight the savage desire welling up. Slow. Careful. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve this. Except, fucking hell—I can’t let her go.
***
Christy
As Tony stood over me in Rosie’s room, I worked to keep my breathing even and tears from my eyes. The agony and shame clung to him so potent the emotions became mine. Agony at how badly I hurt him, shame for daring to say I loved him, yet taking his love and him for granted.
Who the hell does that? Who dares to say I love you in the same breath as saying they are sorry for walking away from that love? Me, I did that. I don’t deserve him welcoming me back with open arms. And he’s not, his arms aren’t open, they’re wrapped around him. He’s trying to protect himself from me hurting him again. No, I don’t deserve him but I’ll bear all the pain, and take everything he is willing to give me.
Tony rolls me under him and seconds later, the bedside table lamp comes on. I flinch from the sudden brightness. “Tony.” I shake my head.
A hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb running over my lips. “I have dreamed of you every damn night lying here in the dark. There were times I swore it was real. Piccolina, I need the light to see you by. No more darkness; this is no dream.”
I can only nod. No more tears tonight. At last, I give into the need to touch him. So beautiful, I sigh as I run my hand over his cheek. His beard is filled with silver.
“You don’t like my beard.”
How Tony, a question that’s not a question. I smile as I trail my hand down his chest. “I don’t hate it. It’s just...different. You’re so beautiful, and it hides—”
With a growl, he takes my mouth. I feel the fight in him to be gentle. A thrill shoots through me, he still wants me. All those women be damned. I’m the only one he wanted. I’m the only one who makes him feel this way.
Slowly, too slowly, his hands trace over my entire body followed by his mouth as he learns me all over again. My breath catches as he studies my breasts, weighing one, then the other with his hand before his tongue tastes me, sucking deep and pulling a cry from the center of me.
“You’ve changed. You made and carried our daughter. Thank you,” he whispers against my mouth as he catches my bottom lip and sucks hard. “I love your body. Every inch of you is beautiful.”