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Amara pouts out her lower lip. “You promise it won’t be too long?”
“It won’t be too long,” I assure her, refusing to promise her that because I might break it. I peer at Gigi. “Can we talk for a sec?”
Gigi follows me into the foyer, and I turn to face her, taking her by surprise. When she nearly falls into my chest, I grab her elbows, but don’t bother releasing her when she’s stable.
“I’ll be back later,” I say, releasing her arm and caressing her cheek. “Please, for the love of God, don’t do anything that’ll piss me off.”
“I’ll stay away from all electronicsas longasyou promise me something,” she whispers, palming my cheek.
I glance down and meet her worried gaze. “What’s that?”
“Promise me you’ll be back later.” Her raspy tone is desperate.
“I’ll be back for my girls.” I kiss her forehead.
“You won’t promise.” Her hand on me shakes.
“You know I can’t make that promise, baby.” I rest my forehead against hers. “What I will promise is that I’ll do everything I can to come home to you.”
When I raise my head, our eye contact remains unbroken.
The air is thick with a potent blend of fear and passion.
Death always casts a shadow on our doorstep. I’m scared it’ll never go away.
40
My heartbeat slows to a crawl, a heavy sense of dread weighing it down when I watch Antonio leave. I settle my back against the stair railing and press my hand to my chest.
Before he left, I read the expression on his face all too well. I’ve seen it on my father countless times, each time etching a lasting memory inside me. It was the kind of goodbye that left you unsure if there’d be another hello.
Amara is teaching Eden dance moves when I return to the living room. She’s adorable with her messy hair tied back in a red ribbon. Her shirt saysDance Princess, and she’s wearing star-printed leggings. I see so much of Antonio’s features in her. It’s also clear that he attempts to create a sense of normalcy and conceal his violence from her. Even though we just met, I want to make sure it stays that way.
“Gigi! It’s movie time!” she says when I catch her attention. “Aunt Eden will make popcorn with M&M’s and nuts!”
“That sounds amazing!” I squeal.
Eden leads us into the kitchen for drinks and snacks. She hands me a bottle of water and Amara a juice box. Like Amara, Eden radiates kindness, but something about her tells me life hasn’t always returned that gentleness to her.
We grab soft blankets, sinking into the plush couch cushions, and Amara snuggles between Eden and me. The movie starts, and I keep my attention divided between the screen and Amara. I relax as I watch her squeal in excitement over a cute character.
What a perfect life this would be.
I shut my eyes, hoping we can do this again someday but with Antonio by our side. We’d have a family—a haven of happiness and sanctuary from the chaos.
This is my dream life.
One with Antonio, Amara, and me.
And possibly another future child.
“I’m taking a bathroom break,” I tell Amara and Eden, grabbing my empty water bottle and tossing it inside the recycle bin on my way out of the theater room.
After using the bathroom, I return to the kitchen for another water. As I round the corner, I jump when finding Dante sitting at the island, sipping on a Starbucks.
While Dante isn’t as menacing as most men I know, his facial expression makes it clear he’s not fond of me being in his home. He’s dressed in blue scrubs, his name tag swaying from a lanyard, and his brown hair is neatly swept back.
“I was just, um … grabbing myself a water.” I point toward the fridge.
