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I tilt my head. “Why?”
“You don’t have to thank me. I would do it again. I have to save my sister, after all,” Gia says with a smile.
I throw my arms around her.
We both lose it then. Sobbing, Gia and I hug, until Sal coughs gently.
I pull back and smile at him. “I figured it was going to be okay if you had a smartass comment.”
“Seeing your sister naked is not something one should really get used to,” he says.
I tug him in for a hug anyway.
He squeezes me. “Good to see you’re okay, stellina.”
“You too, asshole.”
We break apart, and Gia smiles.
“Shall we get the hell out of here?”
Elio’s fingers find mine. I squeeze them, looking up at him.
The adoration in his gaze is clear, and I smile.
“Please. Get me home to my kid,” I say.
The shower is heavenly.
As I’m getting out of the water, I wrap myself in one of Elio’s towels. After we got home, we checked on Luna, gave her hugsand love, and even some ice cream. Elio put her to bed, telling me to go shower.
I did.
For like an hour.
Now that all trace of the Irishman is gone from my skin, I feel better. Lighter. I look at my body in the steamed up mirror, examining my curves.
My stretch marks.
I’m largely unharmed from the situation, which feels strange. I feel like I should have some kind of mark or scar, something to show what I’ve been through.
All I have are the lines my baby gave me when she was being carried.
I trace them lightly.
In a way, Elio put them there.
But I’m happy to have those scars.
In fact, I want more of them.
I’ve loved Elio since the moment I met him. I tried to move on, tried to deny it. But the dream I’ve been living with him lately, where we’re a family?
I never want to wake up from that.
I hear him rustle out in the bedroom. “Elio?” I call through the bathroom door.
“Here, amore mio.”
