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Just like always when I look at him, my breath is stolen away.
Vincent Giordano is standing by the counter, his eyes fixed on me, piercing and vibrant. He’s just as handsome as I remember.
My lips part, and I can’t move. I can barely breathe. I can only stare like I did in that fantasy we conjured up.
When he takes a step forward, my heart stops.
The air thickens around me with anticipation, and I watch him stride to me with confidence and grace. It’s not until he gets to me that I rise to my feet.
He stops a breath away and looks me over.
“Hi… I’m Vincent Giordano. I noticed you sitting here, so I thought I’d come over and say hello.”
Hot tears of joy blind my eyes, choking my voice, then slide down my cheeks.
I swallow hard, thinking of the fantasy. It’s here. He’s here. It’s happening.
As elevation lifts my soul, I throw my arms around him. I can’t speak, so I show him how I feel. He holds me too, cupping my head, and I feel like I’m whole.
I can’t believe a simple touch from him can make me feel so whole.
“Hello,” I answer, and he holds me closer, close to his heart.
It’s a place I finally feel like I belong.
Epilogue
Ava
Eight months later…
“You’re going to spoil that boy rotten,” Marguerite says, looking down at Timothy curled up in my lap.
He looks so small when he’s sleeping. I love when he falls asleep on my lap after I’ve read him a bedtime story. It’s our thing we do in the evenings before Vincent gets home.
I’ll come up to his little room and read him a fairytale.
“I think I will. Is that bad to set out to spoil your kids?” I chuckle. I call him mine, because he is. He became mine the day I stepped back into this house, and I will look after him as such for as long as I live.
Marguerite laughs. “Maybe it’s okay to spoil them with love. Not too much spoilage though. Too much of anything is never good.”
“What are we talking about here?” Vincent says, coming through the door.
Marguerite and I both look at him at the same time.
“Spoilage. I think I may be guilty of it. I can’t resist though.” I laugh and gently ease him onto his pillow. He stirs but then settles back into his slumber.
“Then don’t,” Vincent says and reaches out his hand to me.
I go to him, slipping into his embrace, and he gives me a brief kiss. Marguerite watches us with awe, and I smile back at her.
“We’ll try not to be too late,” Vincent tells her.
“Take your time,” she bubbles, then my wonderful husband ushers me out the door.
We’ve been married for five months, and our lives have been filled with happiness. We spend our evenings together either having one wild adventure after another at The Dark Odyssey or having a quiet night like tonight when we head to the ballet.
The ballet was his idea a few months back. Just us going together, and I loved it. Watching has never been the same as doing it, but watching it with him is a different magical experience altogether.
