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“I’m the opposite. I’ve avoided thinking about it. It helped me start over.”
“Your new life—everything has been okay for you? You don’t need anything? I noticed you rarely make withdrawals on the account I set up for you.”
“Only to pay for security,” I answer, and then I rush to clarify before his concern comes. “Nothing bad has happened and it’s been safe where I am, but I’m still your wife. It’s more of a precaution.”
He sighs. “That’s been one of the hardest parts. Not being able to know where you are and if anybody out there is posing a threat.”
“Wait, so Louis really hasn’t told you anything?”
“Not a word. Until the other day, he hadn’t even mentioned he’s been in contact with you. It was probably for the best. If I knew he was, I might’ve slipped up and reached out.”
My gaze falls to our joined hands, a strange feeling deep inside me. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad. Just that it’s making the free fall sensation in my stomach more pronounced, like I’m unsure if I want to go with it or return to steadier ground.
Maybe things were easier when Gio and I were apart. I don’t even know how we’ll begin sorting through it all…
“I’m not sure I would’ve wanted you to,” I say candidly. “I was hurt, Gio. Youreallyhurt me.”
“I know. There’s no justification. I will never forgive myself, and you shouldn’t either. You shouldn’t have even agreed to today. A man like me, I don’t know how to do anything but dominate and destroy. I thought I could keep it from you, but I lost my way. I can’t tell you what was going through my mind, because I was letting myself become my worst nightmare—my father.”
“But why? Why did you? We used to be…” I sigh, my eyes itching. “We werehappy, Gio. Why couldn’t we just stay that way?”
“Our life together was supposed to be separate. You were never supposed to be involved in my lifestyle. As my wife and mother to my children, sure, but you were never supposed to be directly involved.Ilet those lines blur. I brought the ugly outside into our private inside. My rage and anger. I was obsessed with control. All of the power at my fingertips. I convinced myself everything I did was for your benefit. I was wrong.”
“Check out the views of the city,” our pilot interrupts cluelessly from the front of the helicopter. He’s been making comments here and there during our ride, but we’ve largely tuned him out. “You might want to snap some photos as we pass over the heart of the city. It’s the stuff memories are made of.”
I can see the vexed clench in Gio’s jaw. He doesn’t like that our pilot has ruined such a private talk we were having. The pilot’s comments go unaddressed and he eventually gets the hint, focusing on flying us around and not engaging in conversation.
“I was wrong, Falynn,” Gio says again. He peers at me, regret etched in his eyes. “Nothing will ever excuse it. But I will always be here for you. Whatever you need. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to be with me. Okay?”
“We have time to talk about it. For now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the ride.” I slide my palm against his and squeeze it like he usually does mine.
He nods and we divert our attention to the glass, staring down at the many buildings and bustling cars below.
By the time we land, our spirits are light again, and we hold hands without even questioning it. Gio tugs me toward his sports car and mentions exploring the Strip like tourists.
“It’s been a while,” I say, smiling.
“Remember when we were supposed to play laser tag?”
“And you almost started World War III because you demanded to be my partner?”
“You were my girlfriend,” he says in defense. “Of course you should be my partner.”
“I don’t know. Louis made some convincing arguments.”
We race off. The Strip is crowded with tourists and locals alike exploring the sights and sounds, popping in and out of casinos and shops at their leisure. We wander among them like we’re tourists ourselves and not veterans of these same streets we once roamed years ago when we called this place our home.
Gio pulls me inside the nearest casino, which happens to be Planet Hollywood, and we hit the slots. It becomes a game in itself—us finding the most sparkling, ridiculously-themed slot machine we can, and seeing who can win the most money. Not because we care about how much money we’ll win, but because we’re both stubborn and eager to show the other one up. In the end, I walk off with fifteen whole bucks won while Gio curses out the cheap machines at the casino.
We move onto other silly touristy activities, like visiting an arcade and stopping by the nearby mob museum. All of it is in jest, just fun as we smile and gravitate toward each other. At some point, we’re holding hands again as we rush off to our next activity. His thick fingers intertwine mine, and the bittersweet taste of nostalgia makes me feel like I never want the moment to end.
As the afternoon fades away, we head to a nearby spot that serves wings and beer. It’s so far off from the fancy, five-star places we’d normally eat at together, in a weird way it makes it that much more special that we come here.
Spinner’s is a locally owned bar and grill tucked away near a shopping promenade and a readily available drugstore on the Strip. It’s reclusive and smells of salted peanuts and chicken wing sauce, but as we slide into a booth and our waitress hands us menus, my heart beats in excitement.
Patrons at the bar counter toast each other and down shots, and mounted to the walls are TVs playing just about every sports game currently on the air.
Some random man recognizes Gio in passing, stopping by our table and pointing a finger to ask if he’s that big businessman guy who owns the Vittoria Resort and Casino. Gio glares at him in return and tells him to never point a finger at him again if he expects to keep it. The man trudges off shaking his head and muttering something about Gio being an asshole.
