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I glanced at the baby girl to see her already digging in and trying to feed Max a piece of burger, but the dog was more interested in the bowl of fresh water that was brought for him. Taking advantage of the fact that Romina was busy with her food, I grabbed Salvatrice by the elbow until I could get close enough to whisper in her ear.
“Yes, I remember how you drink your wine and how sushi was your favorite food. I remember how you like your coffee and how you can’t stand the smell of bleach. I remember every moan, every freckle on your body, every orgasm, every I love you that you whispered in my ear when you thought I was asleep. I remember everything.”
She sucked in a breath, turning to look at me, our faces ending up too close again. How the fuck was I supposed to not pull her to me and taste the sunlight on her lips when she had been mine for years?
There were some words on her tongue, and I was eager to hear them, but Romina chimed in and broke our little chit-chat.
“Mama?”
“Yes, honey.”
“Why did that man say you’re Roman’s wife?”
Salva was right; my baby girl was very sharp.
“Well, honey, he just assumed we were a family.”
Romina took her time processing the information while nibbling at a French fry.
“That would be nice, Mama. It wouldn’t be just us anymore.”
It took every drop of strength and self-control I had to not jump out the chair and hit something. She felt alone and abandoned – of course she did. Her father was nowhere to be fucking found. I knew how it was to have a father that wasn’t worth shit. Why the hell did Salvatrice have to turn me into one too?
I glared over at Salva, and she was staring at her sushi, looking upset. Good. She’d fucked-up. And even though I was here to talk about Romina, it seemed I had to clear things with Salvatrice first. There were a lot of things between us – regret, bitterness, sadness – and she was still disgusted with who I was and what I did. This wasn’t a foundation to raise a child. I had to clear the air because one thing was for sure; I wasn’t leaving Portofino without my daughter.
“Romina,” I said, trying to distract her, “how do you like your food, baby girl?”
“I like it. I love cheese!” She clapped her hands. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. I just ordered something that I liked.” And she loved it. My daughter loved it and my smile was beaming again. Was Gino feeling this high all the time now that he had a son? Because I was fucking addicted. I wanted to make this little girl smile every day of her life.
“You like cheese too, Roman?”
“Oh, I have cheese on everything. What else do you like?”
“Ballet.” Figures, but that definitely wasn’t my style. “And books. I like to read at night. I’m starting school next fall.”
“School?” The question was aimed at Salvatrice She put her chopsticks down, sipping some wine before answering.
“Yeah, umm, Remy was tested by the local school and they said she is a few years advanced. She can read on a second-grade level, she can write, and do basic math.”
“So she’s starting school at five years old? I mean, I skipped a couple of grades too.” Another thing I had in common with my daughter. “But I was in junior high. Isn’t she too young?”
“I… I thought about that. The other option would be for her to start in two years and go straight to second grade.”
“That sounds so much better, Salva. Going to school now with kids so much older than her could be very stressful. Why the rush?”
“No rush,” Salvatrice replied, but it felt superficial. Luckily for me, I had Romina to fill in the gaps.
“I want to go to school.”
“Do you now, baby girl?” Was she a bookworm like her daddy?
“Yes. I want to make new friends, because I only have one.” Fucking shit. What?
“Are the kids mean to you?” If so, I’ll be paying a visit to their fucking parents und shoving my gun up their ass until they learn to raise better kids.
“No, there just aren’t any around. And Mama says that if I go to school this autumn, with the money I raised and the money we’d save from the babysitter, I can have my ballet classes.”
