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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dante shouldn’t have just dropped the bishop’s immanent arrival on Emelia. They’d had no secrets between them since they’d gotten together and he felt bad at the time, but now he felt even worse. He’d been worried, and hadn’t wanted her to worry as well because, no know matter what, the outcome would still be the same.
And on the off chance that Rome had given him an Indult, they’d have to find someone willing to give them a marriage license when they had the same father listed. This he’d thought about a lot, and the only option would probably be for them to get a DNA blood test, along with their father, to prove that they weren’t actually blood related. That could work and was certainly worth a try…if they could marry in their church.
The priest in the small Catholic Church in Essex had been welcoming to them as new parishioners, but Dante had no intention of mentioning his past to him, or to anyone.
If he were asked, he wouldn’t lie, though.
Running his hands through his hair, he made his way back upstairs to Emelia. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have gotten too angry with him while he’d been closing the garage up.
She made him smile on a daily basis, and he couldn’t imagine a life without her by his side. As much as he thought he knew the decision from Rome, he hoped with all his heart that he was wrong…because he wasn’t sure Emelia would handle the rejection.
And there she was, as he entered their home. She fluffed the cushions along the dark brown leather corner sofa. His heart squeezed in his chest at the love that would always catch him unaware when she was in the middle of doing a simple task.
Emelia noticed him watching her, and gave him her secret smile. “I wondered how long you’d hide out.”
At least her smile said she wasn’t really angry with him. “I wasn’t hiding out, but I do owe you an apology.” He walked around the sofa and took hold of her hands. “I shouldn’t have kept that from you, and I’m really sorry, Em. I didn’t want you to worry as much I was…forgive me…”
She reached up and quickly kissed his lips. “Of course I forgive you. I know you, Dante. And I knew why you’d kept quiet. No more, though. Promise me.”
He rested his forehead against hers, and said, “I promise, Em.” He was relieved at her easy acceptance of his apology.
“Good. Now go and let the bishop in. His car just pulled up.” She smiled. “I’m going to be positive.”
“Em?” He waited until she held his gaze. “I love you.”
Emelia covered her mouth with her hand, and as he turned to head downstairs, he offered her a soft smile.
He was worried and, as much as he wanted to be more positive, he couldn’t quite get there. With something as important as the approval from Rome was, and knowing how slow things ran there, he just couldn’t get his hopes up.
And now the bishop’s driver, Malcolm, was helping the man who held the answer from the car. Malcolm had been the bishop’s driver for years, and wherever the bishop went, Malcolm would fly with him, and then drive the rented vehicle.
Dante moved forward, and went to dip forward from the waist in a bow of greeting, but the bishop waved him up.
“Even though I’m here on business, please let’s not stand on too much formality.” He held his hand out, and smiled. “How have you been, Dante…and, I’m Colin.”
Dante hid his amusement and returned the greeting of the handshake. “I’m well. Please come inside.” He offered his friend, and turned back to Malcolm, but he’d already climbed back into the car.
“Oh, don’t worry about him…he’s been itching to pull over and call his sister since he received a call saying that she’d just gone into labor,” Colin chuckled. “I’ll miss him when I’m gone. He’s kept me sane over the years.”
“Gone? Where are you going?” He hadn’t heard anything while he’d been a priest, and the words from Colin left Dante worried.
“Retirement in four months. These old bones are being put out to pasture.”
They took their time going up the few steps to Dante’s home, but he was glad to see that Colin wasn’t out of breath when they arrived.
“And this is the beautiful Emelia.” He smiled, and waved her over. “Come. I don’t bite.”
Emelia moved closer and smiled. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite know how to greet a bishop.”
“Oh, pfft. A shake of the hand will do.”
They exchanged greetings, and then Dante suggested, “Let’s go and sit.” He glanced at Emelia and realized she was really nervous, so he intertwined their fingers and pulled her down beside him. “Will you please tell us what Rome had to say, so we can get that out of the way?”
“Mmm. I can.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his reading glasses. “Rome…can be accommodating on occasion, but they can also be awkward on others and less cooperative.”
“Oh,” Emelia mumbled, and when he turned to look at her, there were tears on her lashes.
