Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Mia
I walk around the light-filled studio. My mind is already filling the area with art and projects.
“I was thinking,” Dante says from behind me, his hand so warm on the small of my back. “It’s good to have a place to focus. A place you can disappear to.”
“You’re right,” I say, walking to the biggest area. “Maybe I could even experiment with sculpting or something?”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out, wondering if it’s Lexi, but it’s Dante. I’ve saved his name with a heart next to it.
I have to do this through text. I’ve been an animal, Mia.
“You don’t have to turn around until you’ve read it,” he says from behind me, his voice husky and intense.
My body shakes all over.
I’ve wanted to tell you—forever. You and me, Mia, that’s what I want. If I think of you with anybody else, I want to rip the world apart. You’re the only woman I can even think about being with. I love you…
I turn around, blinking, the world turning blurry with tears.
“I love you too,” I say, my voice cracking when I see Dante on one knee with a ring box in his hand.
“Mia Marino,” he says, voice husky. “I love you so much.” He opens the ring box, showing an elegant silver band and a large rock, glittering bright like it’s washing away all the pain that came before. “Will you marry me?”
I rush over to him. “Yes,” I yell, almost stumbling over the word. “Yes, Dante. Oh my God, yes!”
He slips the ring onto my finger and then leaps to his feet, pulling me into his arms. We kiss like it’s the first and last time, like we can’t wait to do it again already, like everything that ever mattered is happening right now, in this moment. My body heats up with the intensity.
“I want forever,” he says passionately. “I’ve been trying to fight it, but I can’t, and fighting it is wrong. I love you, Mia, so much. We belong together.”
“Forever,” I whisper, pulling myself against him. “I’m going to print that text out. Frame it.”
He kisses my cheek, his voice getting even more intense. “Maybe, one day, we’ll show our…” Children, but he doesn’t finish, trailing off. My belly tingles in a good way.
“Maybe,” I say. “But me and you, that’s for sure? That’s forever.”
“You never have to ask that again.”
He kisses me, somehow even more intense than the first one. Light floods my studio, and happiness floods my soul.
EPILOGUE
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER
Dante
I walk through the private gallery in the Parisian loft. There are many artistic types around, and I do my best to fit in, wearing my monkey suit with a big smile on my face. I don’t have to fake my appreciation of the work.
This is my woman’s biggest art show yet. It’s a collection of all the pieces she’s completed based on the concept of changing: the dog to the wolf, the devil Dante to the angel, and this one…
I pause, smiling at the painting that shows, on the left side, a lost and wild-looking man and woman on some journey but clearly about to come to a terrible end. Then, they find each other as they reach the middle, collapsing. They walk on, hand in hand, until they’re big, bright, smiling, and happy.
“It is an excellent skill, Mr. Bianchi,” a Frenchman says beside me. “To make a point and still have so much merit. She will go far.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He smiles, walking on, leaning on a gold-pommeled cane.
“What did he say?” Mia says, appearing at my side.
She’s wearing a gorgeous, flowy dress, the light fabric making me want to sink my hands into it. “He was singing your praises.”
“He’s the biggest art collector in the city,” she says, flustered, waving a hand. “But that doesn’t matter.”
I laugh, touching her hand. I’ve grown so much closer with my wife over the past year and a half. I’ve spent many evenings with her, discussing her art or watching her work. I remember the dinner we finally had with Ma. I remember how proud my wife was when I hit every milestone for my blackouts. The sessions, the therapy, and the mindfulness exercises were all because of Mia.
“You cured me,” I tell her, and she always laughs, but I mean it.
She looks serious now.
“This is your career,” I tell her.
“I just…” She gets closer, lowering her voice. The loft comprises several interconnecting rooms, with a couple of art pieces in each. We’re currently the only ones in this section. “Do you remember last month when the condom split?”
I swallow. I’m smiling. My heart is pounding, but the grin won’t leave my face. “Yes…”
“I did a pregnancy test,” she says. “I’m positive. We’re going to have a baby.”
She’s smiling, too, with a gorgeous grin that stretches from ear to ear and makes me want to propose to her all over again. “Are you happy?”