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Fifteen
Farrell stoppedthe car next to the curb in the city and turned off the engine. She waited in the car as he came around to the passenger side and opened herdoor.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, she saw that they were in front of a worn stone archway flanked by giant trees. Beyond the arch, a wide gravel path was softly lit and lined withtrees.
“Where are we?” sheasked.
She hadn’t asked any questions on their way into the city. She’d been too shocked by their sudden departure, by the anger that emanated from Farrell inwaves.
She didn’t know that it was directed at her — but she didn’t know it wasn’teither.
“The Orange Garden,” Farrell said, taking her hand and leading her under thearch.
“Why are we here?” Jennaasked.
“I want to show yousomething.”
* * *
It was getting lateon Christmas Eve. The park was hushed and desolate, her hand soft and warm as he veered off the main path to a smaller one crowded withfoliage.
He’d been exhilarated when they’d finally left the Vitale compound, drunk on their liberation. How long had it been since he and Jenna had been truly alone when they weren’t fucking orsleeping?
He loved Nico like a brother, Christophe and Luca, too. He loved their wives like the sisters he’d never had, their children like the nieces and nephews Ethan would neverproduce.
But the secret he’d been keeping and the close quarters of the holiday had crowded his mind. Now, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he couldbreathe.
They walked awhile longer until they came to a low stone wall. Farrell followed it to a large marble facade that rose forty feet into the air, topped with carved Grecianurns.
At its center stood an arched green door, scuffed withuse.
She looked upward. “What isit?”
“It started as the fortified palace of Alberico the Second, but it’s been passed to everyone from the Knights Templar to the Knights ofMalta.”
“It’s magnificent. But why are wehere?”
“Take a look,” he said, indicating thedoor.
She looked from him to the door and back again. “Atwhat?”
“Through thekeyhole.”
“You brought me into the city during Christmas Eve dinner to look through akeyhole?”
He smiled, reaching into his pocket. “Yes.”
“Allright.”
She stepped toward thedoor.
* * *
She didn’t knowwhat she thought Farrell had in mind when he’d pulled her out of the house, but it hadn’t been a sightseeing trip to a Roman garden, an instruction to peer through akeyhole.
Whatever he was up to, he must be onto something. As much as she loved their friends — their new family— she had to admit she felt a bit better since they’d left thehouse.
She was still nervous to tell him about the baby, but this was as good as it got in terms of anopportunity.
