Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“You saying you want to start a family?” I grin up at him. “Kind of a weird time to do it.”
“Maybe I do.” He puts an arm over my shoulders and pulls me close. “I keep wanting to tell you about that night, but I just—”
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I say very quietly. I’ve been so afraid for him since this happened. It’s like he’s been covering himself in armor again and pulling away from me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get him back. All I can do is stay here, steady and close, and hope.
“I was turning back,” he whispers and his grip on me tightens. “Lombardi is a high-ranking player, and if we could get him, that would change everything. But he was parked down this dark street and it felt wrong. I was thinking about you, and about how much I wanted to be with you instead of trying to get myself killed every night. I decided to call it, because I had a feeling like I was never going to see you again, and I couldn’t live with that. Bruno went in anyway.”
I lean against him and close my eyes against tears. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I made a decision that night and I keep asking myself if I had gone in, if we had all gone in together, maybe things could’ve been different. Maybe Bruno might not be dead.”
“Or maybe you’d all be buried down there with him.”
He grimaces and nods. “I know that’s probably right.”
I wipe my face with the heel of my hand and suck in a breath, trying to steady myself. He chose me that night—and Bruno died because of it. I can’t imagine the guilt he must feel right now.
“Are you going back out there?” I whisper and feel like shit for asking because it’s the most selfish question imaginable, but I can’t help it.
He shakes his head. “No, baby, not anymore. Not like I was. Bruno died because I chose you, and I’m not going to dishonor him by throwing my decision away.”
I could scream. It’s all I’ve been wanting, and now he’s finally saying it. No more fighting on the front lines. No more risking his life every night in his obsessive quest. I can have my husband back. Maybe these last few days haven’t been an aberration—maybe they’re my future.
“I want that so badly.” I get on my toes and kiss him. “Can you promise?”
“I promise.” He kisses me back, holding me tight against him. “I keep chasing something. I’ve been after it my whole life, ever since what happened with Santoro, but being with you is better than getting revenge.”
I cry in earnest. I can’t help it. I’ve been so emotionally wrecked lately and this is like jumping from a freezing cold ice-bath into a warm jacuzzi. The temperature swing has my body trembling, just like this sudden emotional whiplash makes the sobs tear themselves from my throat. We stay like that in the shade of the tree as I calm down and watch as Bruno’s mother and his sister leave until we’re the last ones standing.
“I wouldn’t mind having kids, you know,” he says, giving me a sly smile as we finally turn away from the grave.
“I bet you wouldn’t. Do you plan on giving birth to them?”
“The second modern medicine catches up, you’re damn right I will.”
“Unfortunately, we’re not there yet, you weirdo.”
He catches my wrist and pulls me into him. I grin and kiss him.
“Come on. Babies. Lots of babies. We’ll name them after Bruno.”
“What if they’re a girl?”
“Then we’ll name her Brunette.”
I groan and bury my face in his chest. “You’re terrible.”
“I know.” He breathes in my hair. “I’m teasing though. We don’t have to have kids until you’re ready.”
I close my eyes and try to imagine children, a family, all the good and all the bad that comes with it. Early morning feedings, dirty diapers, wet beds, surly teenagers. Through it all, I’d do it with him.
“Maybe soon.” I look up and give him a sly smile. “You still haven’t gotten me a job.”
He perks up, his eyebrows raising. “Actually, I think I came up with something. Are you any good at math?”
“Uh, I mean, I got decent grades in high school.”
He leads me back to the cars. “That’s not really confidence-inspiring, dolcezza.”
“Is this an interview or something?”
“We’ll say this is the first round.”
I roll my eyes and elbow his ribs. “Don’t be a dick.”
He wheezes. I hit him right in the big bruise. “I’m only saying, you have to win this business.”
“I have an Ivy League degree, remember?”
He looks thoughtful. “That’s a good point. Maybe you’re up to the challenge.”
“What exactly is this job, husband of mine?”
He shrugs a little and looks at his nails. “You’ll find out.”