Page 269

That's it. No speech. No telling me how strong I am or that Damiano would be proud of me.

Thank God.

I put on the dress I laid out earlier. Nothing special, just a long cream dress with thin straps that moves around my legs whenever the breeze comes through the open balcony doors.

I leave my hair down. Damiano always liked it that way.

My hands start shaking when I put on my sandals.

Such a stupid thing.

I've carried his ashes across an ocean. I've taken him to Chicago, to Lander, and flown all the way to Italy with an urn in my luggage.

But putting on my fucking sandals nearly breaks me.

Because once they're on, I'm ready. And if I'm ready, I have to leave this room.

Chiara seems to understand. She doesn't rush me or ask if I need anything. She simply sits on the edge of her bed and waits while I stare down at my feet like I've somehow forgotten how shoes work.

Finally, I take a breath. Then another.

“Okay.”

Chiara stands, and I pick up the urn.

We go downstairs, where Jude is waiting with Dex and Lexy.

He looks at me the moment I step off the last stair, his eyes moving over my face before dropping to the urn in my arms. Something changes in his expression, and he walks over.

“You okay?”

I almost laugh. “No.”

The corner of his mouth moves. “Stupid question.”

“Little bit.”

That gets the smallest smile out of him, but then his eyes drop to the urn again.

“Want me to carry him?”

My chest squeezes.

Not it.

Him.

For a second, I consider it. Then I tighten my arms around Damiano.

“Not yet.”

Jude nods. “Okay.”

And that's all. He doesn't ask again.

We leave the hotel together. The beach isn't far, and the closer we get, the more people I notice walking in the same direction.

At first, I don't think anything of it. Then someone turns around, and I recognize one of Damiano's cousins. He sees me, slows down and smiles.