“Then let me be honest now.”
She nodded once.
“I cannot promise you a life without danger,” I said. “I cannot promise that my world will never reach for you again or that I will always know the right move. I can promise you that I will never again take your choice away in the name of loving you. I can promise that I will tell you the truth, even when it is ugly, even when it humiliates me, even when it makes me look weaker than I want to.” I swallowed. “And I can promise that I will try with everything I have in me to be the man you deserve, even when I fail at it first.”
She was listening so intently that it made me feel flayed open.
“I know you have your PhD to finish,” I continued. “I know you want a job in your field, and I would never stop you from having one. I won’t clip your wings to make loving me easier. If this has to be long distance for a while, then it will be long distance. If we have to build it in stages, then we’ll build it in stages. If it takes adjustment, then we adjust. But whatever shape it takes, I’ll meet you there.”
Her expression changed then, not into softness exactly, but into something deeper. More vulnerable.
“I will finish my PhD,” she said quietly. “But I’ll also come with you.”
The words hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe.
“You would?”
“Yes.” She looked almost annoyed by the fact that she had to explain what now felt obvious to her. “I can do more remotely than I first thought. I can grade online, I can do the seminars online, I can make the adjustments necessary. It won’t always be simple, but I can make it work.” Her eyes held mine. “As long as I’m part of the team.”
“You are the team,” I said, too fast, too raw, too true to stop. “There is no version of any of this that works for me without you in it.”
Her breath caught.
So did mine.
I moved then, slowly enough to let her stop me, and came to sit beside her. She didn’t move away.
She turned her face toward me, and there were tears in her eyes, though none had fallen.
“That would be a good start,” she whispered.
I nodded, because suddenly speaking felt dangerous.
She looked down, then back up again. “I’m still scared.”
“So am I.”
That made her laugh softly.
“Good,” she said. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
I reached for her hand then, slowly, and when she let me take it, part of me came back to life.
“I am going to make mistakes again,” I said. “Not this one. But others, because I remain human despite my better efforts.”
“That’s very upsetting news.”
“I know.” I brushed my thumb across her knuckles. “But if I do, I want you to tell me. I want you to drag me back into the room and force me to face it. I want all of it, Emily. The love, the arguments, the compromises, the ugly days, the good ones, the years it takes to get fluent in each other. I want the whole life.”
Her mouth trembled then, just enough to undo me.
“That’s dangerously romantic for a mafia heir.”
I leaned closer. “I haven’t even started.”
That finally made her smile.
A real one.
