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I put my now heavier ring finger over his lips. “I don’t need a song, but I need to hear something so romantic that this dress cannot in good conscience stay on.”
He opened to his mouth to speak.
“I want to hear the truth, not just lines, and I want to hear it in Italian.”
“Yes, your majesty,” he said in Italian, resting his forehead on mine. “But know I have never once not told you the truth. Mostly because I never wanted to lie to you and secondly because you’d know it was a lie to begin with. You’re asking me for romantic words, I don’t know if I have them or if they are a
ny different from what I have already told you. But I’ll say it again. Calliope, there is no other person, living or dead, that has ever understood me, frustrated me, scared me, excited me, and made me as happy as you. Every moment you were not with me I missed you. I missed you to the point where it was less painful to pretend you didn’t exist, to just force you out of my thoughts, than to think of you. I have hated and regretted every moment I betrayed you. The thought of you with anyone else was enough to drive me mad, and yet you patiently stood by as I…as I worked. No other woman could do that, not even my mother. You are so strong; at times, it terrifies me because I’m not sure if I’m being fooled by you, if you really love me too. I’ve fallen that deep and that hard, and I don’t even care. You could cut out my heart and I’d still call you la mia anima, because I know you are my soulmate—”
I kissed him. How could I not kiss him? How could I not jump him? Picking me up, he carried me over to the bed. I heard him accidentally kick one of the candles, but he didn’t care. He dropped me on to the bed, already pulling at my dress.
“Marry me,” he finally said as he kissed my neck, his hand already on my bare breast.
“Yes,” I moaned as he gripped me tighter.
“Love me,” he demanded.
“Always.”
“Stay with me.” He kissed down to my breast.
“Forever.” I held on to his hair. He managed to pull the rest of my dress off and see me naked. As in, yes, I wore nothing under my dress. He immediately spread my thighs.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Callahan.”
ETHAN – AGE 28
Tuesday, September 30th
Chicago, Illinois
She signed her name on the marriage license before I did. I glanced at it once more before putting it into the envelope and sealing it, handing it back to her. Her eyebrow raised slightly, and a small grin crossed her lips.
“I trust you to file it,” she said.
“I don’t,” I told her. “I’ll blow our cover and file it right now. You do it when you think the moment is right,” I said before I laid on her chest, my ear right beside her breast, and I listened to the steady beat of her heart. At times, maybe when she was thinking of something, it sounded like a thousand hummingbirds were in her chest. Other times it was as if there was barely any beating at all. Meanwhile on the outside she remained the same: calm, poised, gently running her hands through my hair. We did nothing but lie there.
The world was chaotic outside. This was my only rest. My fortress of solitude, only better because I could be alone and together at the same time. If only…
“Let’s take a vacation.” She spoke softly for the first time in almost an hour.
“To where?” I asked, not moving.
“Here.”
I looked around the room…well better yet the bunkers, all of which I had added within the walls of the house. While other members of my family had places elsewhere in the city where they went to escape our family drama, I’d built mine right from within, further proof that something wasn’t right with me.
“And Gigi?”
“Will be here after her parents get themselves together.” Finally, I lifted my head, resting my chin on her skin, and she stared back at me, her hand brushing strands of hair from my face. “I’m no therapist, but I do think you and I should see what happens when we aren’t being pulled away from each other, when we are forced to wake up to each other, day in and day out, before we bring our daughter here. After all, haven’t we both changed over the years?”
“All my changes are because of you and her. Nevertheless, I do not mind.” In fact, I welcomed it. Sitting up I ran my hand through my hair. Thinking quickly of how this would work. “I’ll have to leave Wyatt in charge. Pretend I’m so distraught over Ivy and leave?”
“Does he still think you’re drugged up in your room?” She sat up behind me and wrapped me in her arms.
“How did you know he was going to try to sedate me?” I turned my head slightly to her.
She kissed my shoulder and snickered. “Your brother panics when he sees you or sister in pain. He just wants it to stop.”
