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Taking a step back and looking at life not from the onset that’s paved with the ignorant viewpoints of inexperience but backward from a deathbed helped me to see everything more clearly. It opened my eyes to what’s important. To whom people are when you flay them open to the bone. I know how to cut the toxic relationships out of my life as well as how to nurture the authentic ones. My experiences took me to war, but I came back a survivor instead of a victim. They gave me an enormous gift by armoring me with the most indestructible weapon of all—believing in myself.
A few people come over to say goodbye. Mr. Martin taxied three people at a time here with his boat, and it’s time to take them back to the village. The peace of mind that’s my constant companion these days fills me with a warm glow when the party dissolves and I climb up the steps that leads to the house.
Angelo stands at the top with his hands shoved in his pockets. His stance is relaxed, but he’s vigilant.
“Hey,” I say when I reach him, out of breath from the steep climb.
“Hey,” he replies, cutting a possessive gaze over me. “Go put on some clothes. I don’t want you walking around in front of my men like that.”
“Like what?” My smile is teasing. “In my swimsuit?”
“You’re a beautiful woman. They’re men. They’ll be tempted to look, and I don’t want to kill all of them. They’re good guards.”
“There was no need to change. I’m going for a shower anyway.” Walking around him, I continue, “I want to be ready when the kids get home.”
He follows one step behind me, his shadow falling over the ground next to mine.
“How was business?” I ask.
His answer is evasive. “As usual.”
“Good then,” I conclude, glancing at him from over my shoulder and catching him ogling my ass.
“You could say that.”
I don’t insist that he elaborates. I know he wants to protect me.
“You did a good thing,” he says.
“Did I?”
“For Mrs. Campana.” He adds, “Teaching her to swim.”
Catching my hair in a ponytail, I squeeze out the water. “I said I would.”
“But you didn’t do it just to keep your promise.”
“No,” I admit. “It was important to her, and I was happy to do it.”
“The same goes for Sophie.”
I watch my step, taking care not to cut my soles on the sharp edges of the rocks. “She was a fast learner.”
“I’m not talking about teaching her to swim.”
I stop and turn around to look at him.
“I’m talking about giving her your bracelet,” he says. “The one we gave you for your sixteenth birthday.”
“Your father bought it, am I right?”
His nod is resigned. “He did.”
“I meant what I said to Sophie. It should stay in the family. As the oldest girl, it should be hers.”
“You see?” he says with a tender smile, hooking my hair behind my ear. “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t differentiate. You treat her like she’s your own.”
“She is my own.”
