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Nineteen
Each be other’s comfort kind:
Déep, déeper than divined,
Divine charity, dear charity,
Fast you ever, fast bind.
—Gerard Manley Hopkins,
from “At the Wedding March”
The edges of Sabina’s mind were fuzzy when she made it home that night, like when Mary had insisted she try a gin. Except that her senses were unimpaired, heightened even, and her throat was absent that tickling burn. Her fingers remained linked with Lorenzo’s as they sauntered up the walk to her stoop. The evening had proven far more fun than they’d dared to hope. They’d found Mary at the first place they stopped, and she had actually listened. Tears smudging her kohl, she’d told Robert to take her home.
Sabina and Lorenzo had made their movie after all, and after checking on the Bennatos—their friends’ mother was still hanging on—they’d taken a moonlight stroll through the park before aiming for Taylor Street again. Sabina didn’t bother asking if he would come inside with her for a minute. She just opened the door and pulled him in. It was her best bet for getting another kiss.
He closed the door, and the moment it clicked, Sabina locked her arms around his neck and grinned at him. “Ha. Gotcha right where I want ya.”
Lorenzo chuckled and slid his arms around her waist. His hazel eyes sparkled with every shade of color between green and brown, alight with love and passion. It made her feel like the most important woman in the world. The only woman. “And why, Miss Mancari, would you possibly want me right here?”
Her smile felt flirtatious on her lips, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes sparkled a little more, and a smile curved that too-serious mouth of his. She took off her hat, tossed it onto the marble topped table nearby, and pulled his head down to hers.
It was so funny. A few short weeks ago she had dreaded his company, and now…now she would be happy to stay right here forever. His arms fit so perfectly around her. The scent of his soap teased her nose in a way at once familiar and heady. And his kiss—oh, his kiss.
Yes, Roman had been exciting. But it was beautifully different with Lorenzo. She knew she was the only one he had ever loved, ever wanted. He didn’t make her feel like a prize to be won, but like a treasure to be cherished. So tisoru. His treasure.
“Oh, come on! I do not need to see that!” Little G’s exclamation startled her enough that she jumped a few inches away. She looked over to see her brother making a face as he watched them from the entrance to the dining room, his book repair project still scattered on the table. “Papa! Bina and Enzo are necking in the foyer!”
Papa was home again already?
The low, rumbling laugh from the parlor said he was. “Good. Leave them alone, G.”
With a roll of his eyes, her brother turned back to his book. Sabina returned her gaze to Lorenzo and found him biting back a grin. She didn’t bother containing hers. “Nothing like a brother to ruin the moment.”
“We’ll have plenty more. Of course, there are plenty more brothers to ruin them.” He ran the tips of his fingers down her cheek. “Well, Bean, much as I hate to say so, I guess I should get home. It’ll be time for mass before we know it.”
“I know.” Not that she pulled away quite yet. In fact, she held him a little tighter and gazed long into his love-filled eyes. “I’d apologize for the way the evening began, but it’s hard to be sorry for something that ended so well.”
Lorenzo’s chuckle danced over her. “Yeah, I have a feeling it didn’t go quite the way O’Reilly envisioned. Not that you need to apologize on any count—it was his doing, not yours.”
She granted that with a tilt of her head, but still it bothered her. “I don’t know why he’s trying to win me back. Or why, if he honestly wanted to, he keeps pursuing Papa.”
Lorenzo sighed. “Sadly, that’s something I can understand. He loves you, Bean. But he still has a job to do, and pride to assuage.”
Warm fingers constricted around her heart, making a strange sensation surge up her throat. “Do you think it’s okay if I pray for him?”
“Okay?” He rested his forehead on hers. “Sweet Sabina, I think that’s the wisest idea I’ve heard in a while.” He kissed the tip of her nose, which lit a warm glow in her chest. “We both will.”
She let her eyes slide shut, kept her hand pressed to his chest, and just focused on the beat of his heart under her fingers. Three years she had doubted him, doubted his love, doubted whether she was really meant to be his wife. Part of her still wondered if he could really be hers, if God really would share him. But she hoped so. How she hoped so! She wanted to be Lorenzo’s wife. She wanted to build a life with him. She wanted to learn with him how to love these people around them who gave so generously, loved so fiercely, yet exacted such a price for it all.
She blinked her eyes open again and looked up into his face. It was still tilted down toward her, but his eyes were focused on nothing, his head turned just a bit as if he were listening to something she couldn’t hear. Then he smiled down at her and picked up her left hand. “Can I see this for a minute?” He wiggled the diamond ring.
She frowned. “Why? I mean, sure, but…”
“Just bear with me.” He slid off the ring he’d slid on three years ago. She flexed her fingers, amazed at how bereft they felt. In spite of all her second thoughts, mixed desires, and betrayal, she had never once taken off the diamond. Somehow its absence amplified her hope to keep that ring on her finger forever.
“Okay.” Lorenzo let out a quick breath, dropped to one knee, and held their hands between them.
