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I know then, in my heart, he doesn’t mean during this isolated situation, this one incident.
I’ll wait for you.
I nod. I came down here for a reason, and even though I have a burning need to know every detail of what’s gone on and why, I need to see my mother more. But he’ll wait for me. I allow myself the smallest glimmer of hope.
“Where will you be while I do?” I brace myself for whatever he tells me. He’ll meet me back in Boston. Maybe he’s going back to Italy. Maybe we’re not doing this anymore.
“Right outside this door.” He gestures toward a folding chair. It’s such an odd contradiction: a self-made billionaire and dangerous criminal, sitting on a cheap folding chair in the hallway of a residential care facility. But he’ll wait for me.
“You do what you have to, then all I ask is that you listen to me. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, and I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
I swallow and nod when I hear my mother shifting on the bed behind me. “Okay,” I say, in a voice just above a whisper.
Adriano’s eyes on me grow heated and somber as he places a knuckle under my chin. “You have some explaining to do, too, sweetheart.”
My heartbeat thumps, and sudden tears spring to my eyes when hope blossoms in my heart.Hope.
When he winks, this time my heart does a full-on somersault. “We can do hard things, Quinn.”
I would laugh, because I know he’s teasing me, but I feel raw and exposed.
When he kisses me, my eyes flutter closed. I expect a tentative kiss, the hint of a question, but I should’veknownbetter. My husband isn’t the questioning sort. Adriano claims my mouth with the heat of the burning sun, his hands tangled in my hair. My knees buckle and I make a low hum of approval before he releases me.
Well,shit.
A faint sound of clapping comes behind me.
I forgot my mother.
I turn, jaw dropped, to find my mother smiling. She may have brain damage and the inability to talk—but that doesn’t stop her from cheering us on.
Adriano squeezes my hand just before he exits and closes the door behind him.
I’m shaking as I approach Mom. I have the worst case of adrenaline crash possible. I’ve barely slept in a week, I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. But my mother waits for me, and I came here for a reason.
I sit beside her bed and hold her hand. When she points to the door, I know exactly what she’s asking.
“The man who kissed me? That’s my husband.”
My mother’s face lights up and her eyes go big and wide as she pretends to fan herself. That makes me laugh and God, does it ever feel good to laugh. She doesn’t even know the half of it.
“I told you I’d come back,” I whisper as I sit and hold her hand. I kiss her fingertips. “I’ll always come back, you know that, right?”
She nods and rests her head on the pillow. She knows.
“What’s this they said about a suicide watch for you?” I ask, observing her reaction. Was this part of the fabrication to get me to come?
When she vehemently shakes her head, I sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God. So, you’re not suicidal?”
It’s rare my mother is cognizant enough to know who I am, let alone anything else. But when she does, I take full advantage of the opportunity. “Okay, here goes nothing… We live in Boston,” I begin.
Do we? Do I? Is this one of the many times I’ll pull up roots and fly, or… can I make peace with Adriano?
Can I love a man who’s obsessed with me? Can I love a man as intense as the burning sun? Will I survive?
Or will I rise from the ashes, a new person?
I can tell by the childlike grin on her face she loves this.
