Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
"I didn't hear you."
She never seems to.
I step out onto the balcony with her, running my hands through my wet hair. "Yeah, you were in the middle of what sounded like an interesting conversation."
Her flush grows as she averts her eyes, biting her bottom lip before turning back away from me to look at the city once more. "It's just… unbelievable. I never thought I'd actually be standing in Italy. I've always wanted to come here." She cuts her eyes at me as I pause beside her. "Which, somehow, you already knew."
I offer her a smile in place of a response. Before that afternoon in Vegas, I wasn't aware she wanted to come here. I had no way of knowing. As much as I know about the woman—her mannerisms, her past—her deepest desires are still secret from me.
I'd been lost in my head, sitting at that table in the courtyard, the ring box heavy in the breast pocket of my coat, mulling over whether or not I was making the right choice proposing to her. Years ago, I had everything figured out, my entire future drawn before me, a picture-perfect life that went up in flames, a story ending in the middle of a book, the rest of the pages left blank, wiped clean by the harsh reality that I was all alone now and I always would be.
Or I thought I would be…
I kept going through it again and again. I loved her, I wanted to keep her, but I knew doing so would be an injustice. Something I wanted to make right was so fucking wrong; something that made me feel whole would fracture her. I'm not an idiot. I'm not a fool. I knew what the truth would do to Karissa, and proposing to her would only make that worse.
I almost didn't do it. Almost backed out. Don't tie her to you, I thought. Don't lock her in a cage. Thoughts of Maria kept infiltrating the moment, memories of what happened to her, thoughts of the woman she'd never get to be, the life she'd never get to live with me. I couldn't do that to Karissa, could strap her to someone she didn't even know, drag her deeper into a world she didn't realize wanted to swallow her whole. Maria never got to be a mother. She barely got to be my wife. I never took her on our honeymoon.
'I've always dreamed about going to Italy.'
'I know.'
I answered quietly, absent-mindedly, not even realizing what I was doing until I turned my head and looked at Karissa, drawing me back into the moment, out of a past that ended prematurely.
At the end, I ultimately pulled out the ring, ignoring everything that stood against me because of something Karissa said: 'I don't want to walk away from you. I'm never going to.'
She swore she meant it.
I'm still trying to take her at her word.
Looking away from Karissa, I glance down at her hand, eyes lingering on her bare ring finger for a moment before turning to face the Rome skyline.
"Why don't we get dressed and go explore?" I suggest.
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"I wish I had a camera," she says, looking around. "It's so beautiful. I never want to forget it."
"Go shower," I say, motioning back toward the room. "I got you covered."
The water is just starting up in the bathroom when I pull on some clothes—jeans and a white t-shirt—and head for the door. I slip out without saying anything to Karissa and am back within twenty minutes, holding a shopping bag from the store down the street. When I step back into the room, Karissa is standing there in nothing but a towel, hoards of clothes dumped out from her bags and covering the bed.
"For you," I say, hesitating before dropping the shopping bag right on top of her things. Brow furrowed, she looks inside the bag and gasps. I don't know much about cameras… it's black and made by Canon. The man at the shop said it was the top of the line and the price tag certainly reflected that notion.
"Jesus, Naz, you didn't have to do that!" she says, pulling it out and holding it up. "We could've grabbed one of those disposable ones, you know… they're like five bucks. This is…"
"Worthy of Rome," I say as my phone in my pocket starts vibrating, the familiar beeps ringing out. "Charge the battery and we'll head out."
I pull the phone from my pocket as I step out onto the balcony again for some privacy. Ray. My signal is decent here in Rome, good enough that I know I can carry on a conversation with the man, but I'm hesitant to answer.
The ringing stops within seconds and I stare at the blank screen, not at all surprised when it starts up again almost immediately. I press the answer button as I sit down on the edge of a lounge chair. "Yeah."
"You're alive."
There's no humor in his voice.
No sarcasm.
It makes my insides coil.
Genuine question.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask.
"Well, I haven't seen you around. Figured something must've happened to you. It's not like you to stay away so much."
"I've just been busy."
"Is that right?"
"Yes."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me," Ray says. "You aren't avoiding me, are you?"
"Of course not."
"Good to know," he says. "I'm down at Cobalt. Come have a drink with me. We'll chat."
"I would if I could," I reply. "I'm out of town."
"Yeah? Where you at?"
"Rome."
"Rome," he echoes. "That's a little more than out of town, Vitale. That's a whole different country. Something come up?"
"No, it's not business," I say. "It's personal."
He's quiet, so quiet I'd think he hung up if I couldn't hear the clatter of the club in the background. I wait him out, sitting in silence. It takes nearly a full minute before he speaks again. "You took the Rita girl to Italy?"
"I did."
He's quiet, again, but not as long this time. "The misses is having a dinner party next weekend. Saturday. I know you've been busy, but I'd like it if you found the time to come."