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“Don’t try too hard. If I felt confident Antonia and Mimmo were in good hands, I’m still not sure I could get the nerve to ask Jillian and the kids to come with me.” But regardless, I might have to go away. Because being this close to the one thing I want above all else, knowing I can’t have it, is a torture no man should endure.
Jillian
After getting sweet Myla down to bed, I head downstairs to look for a bottle of wine. My nerves are shot. If there’s a chance I’ll finally get a good night’s sleep in my child-free bed, I’m going to need something to take the edge off.
Reaching up on the top shelf of my pantry, I find a bottle of Chianti and am surprised when an actual giggle sneaks out. I’ve been attracted to all things Italian, even before he came along. I uncork the bottle and pour a small serving into my mug.Enjoying a good inhale of the robust fruity scent, I relish the way the luscious liquid dances on my tongue as I read, “This is probably wine” from the side of my coffee cup.
It’s like my mother is a mind reader.
Taking small mouthwatering tastes of the deep purple liquid in my mug, I walk back to the front of the house and peer out the narrow window by my door.Nothing. Has he finally given up on us?
Opening the door, I step outside. If he’s here, he’ll be blowing up my phone. I laugh halfheartedly. I’m tempted to text him. I miss him so. Even the argumentative banter was better than nothing. But it wouldn’t be fair to him if he’s trying to move on.
Gah. I miss him so much. My chest squeezes. I’d give anything to have him here with us. “This sucks,” I mutter, although I really want to shout if from the rooftops.But there’s no way I’m waking these kids.
Lifting my mug, I take another swallow as I remember Caleb wrapped up in Luca’s shirt. I’m trying to be strong and have faith. But with our track record with men, it’s not easy. And this situation seems hopeless. It’ll take a miracle for this to work out.
I turn to head inside, so I can drain this mug, brush my teeth, and try to get a restful night’s sleep when I notice a strange truck slow down and turn into Cliff’s driveway. That’s odd. It definitely wasn’t his car, and Cliff is still away visiting his mother. Maybe it’s someone taking care of the dogs. I laugh. God, who do you find to?—
Holy shit.
Could it be? I knew there was no way he’d just give up after I threatened to call the police. Has he been next door this whole time? My mind is racing. So much for that wine settling my nerves.
Pushing through the door, I put down my mug and begin to pace. What should I do? Do I go over there? I’ll feel like an idiotif I walk next door and it isn’t him. But how will I ever clear my head enough to go to sleep if I don’t find out? I stop, tapping the pad of my finger on my bottom lip. What exactly are you going to do if he is there, Jillian?
Maul him.Lord, this is getting me nowhere.
All of a sudden, I sense the faintest sound. Walking to the back door, I’m certain my mind is playing tricks on me. How can I hear anything concrete over the loud thrumming of my pulse in my ears? But as I move closer, I can see shadows. Oh, it’s just the dogs.
Wait. That’s it.I’ll go outside until he lets them back in. Surely, I’ll be able to see if it’s him then. Reaching for the sliding glass door, I scan down my body and remember I’m wearing this thin, clingy nightgown.Jeez, Jillian.What the heck? I mean, I stood on my front porch trying to push his buttons wearing less. And if it isn’t him, I’m in my own yard, for gosh sakes.
Leaving the back porch light off so he won’t know I’m there, I carefully step outside. Man, it’s pitch black out here. There are a few stars visible up above, and only a trace of the moon’s glow through the trees. I can barely see two steps in front of me, much less Cliff’s backyard. And of course, his light is off too.
I quietly take a few steps toward the fence, praying I don’t step on a stick or make enough noise to get the dogs charging toward me. Hell, I’m likely to have a stroke as worked up as I am right now.
Two more steps, and I stop, assessing for any sound or movement. Are they really out here? Normally, they’re trotting up and down by the fence when they’re out. And the slightest sound causes them to bark. But there’s nothing. Holding my breath, I take a few more steps. Then a few more. I’m shocked those hairy beasts can’t hear my heart beating. It’s thundering against my sternum.
I tiptoe one step closer and hear the slightest movement in the back corner of Cliff’s yard closest to me. Training my eyes in that direction, I will myself to calm down and take another couple of steps. Until…
I see him.
Dressed in all black, he sits in a chair facing my back door. He would’ve remained hidden in the dark if it weren’t for the illumination of the moon against something metallic, his silhouette scarcely visible. His legs are crossed, and a shotgun is resting on his lap. He has one hand on the gun, and the other is stroking the head of one of the dogs. These majestic creatures flank both sides of him, sitting tall as if they’re at the foot of a god. And that’s exactly the way he looks. Superhuman, otherworldly.
Mine.
“What are you doing? You’ll get yourself killed. Get in the house, Cucciolotta,” he practically snarls.
“No.”
“This isn’t some game, Jillian.”
“I know.” I take a few more steps in his direction, surprised the dogs are sitting calmly at his side.
“Go inside and lock your doors.” He sounds angry. But I don’t care.
“No.” My eyes well with tears, feeling him so near. There’s so much I want to say to him. But we can’t have a real conversation out here. Not when we’re trying to prevent drawing attention our way. Did Matteo let him know they visited? Does he know we’re aware of the truth? “I know. You didn’t do it. Luca?—”
“It doesn’t matter. You all could get hurt because of me. Please, baby. Go in the house where it’s safe.”
