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“With what?”
“Dealing with Crimson Mob and even Viper Mob.”
“But there’s a bigger question.”
“What?”
“Do you still love me, Zuri?”
She let out an exasperated breath.
I stepped closer and heard her inhale sharply.
But, she didn’t move away.
Our bodies almost touched.
Her chest rose and fell as she slowly lifted her view to me. “I can call Marcelo. Would you like me to do that? I want you to be safe, Dante.”
I gazed down at the love of my life. “Answer my question.”
“Dante, we are talking about—”
“Do you still love me?”
Chapter 13
The Art of Hope
Her hesitation hung in the air and damned near wrapped around us.
In that moment, my mind raced, grappling with the gravity of her impending response.
A yes could mean a renewal of all we had, a rekindling of a love that had once been the axis of my world.
But a, no?
A no could shatter my fragile hope, leaving me to wander through the remnants of what could have been.
As these thoughts spiraled through my heart, I realized this was more than just a question; it was a crossroads for my very existence. Zuri's words held the power to either anchor me to a past filled with warmth and passion or cast me adrift in a sea of uncertainty and loss.
Only God knew what would happen if Zuri didn’t love me anymore.
Was it fair to hinge my happiness on her answer?
Was my love for her contingent on her reciprocation?
Or was it an enduring flame that could withstand the winds of change and rejection?
I trembled. “Zuri?”
Stubborn as ever, she shifted her view to the floor. “Your going after Crimson Mob scares me—”
“I know.”
“I-I don’t want anything to happen to you. . .”
“I know that too.”
“It would hurt Carmen.” She lowered her voice. “It would hurt me.”
I slowly raised my hand and gently cupped Zuri’s chin. Her skin was warm and soft, just as I remembered.
Slowly, I lifted her gaze back to mine. “I’m still in love with you, and nothing will change that.”
Zuri’s brown eyes locked with mine. A storm of emotions swirled within them.
“Every moment I spent in that cold, lonely cell. . .” Still holding her chin, I slipped my thumb up to her bottom lip, but didn’t allow myself to touch it just yet. “You were the dream that danced in my mind during sleepless nights.”
She shivered against me.
“You were the gentle whisper in my ear amidst the chaos of that fucking hell hole.”
“Dante. . .I. . .I have a life. . .and goals, and you can’t just come back out of nowhere and. . .shake everything up. . .”
“Five years, Zuri. And while I didn’t open your letters. . .I clung to the memory of you, the feel of your hand in mine, the softness of your kisses.”
She parted her lips.
“Five years lost. We’re both older, and with a beautiful kid. You’re different. I’ve changed. But. . .” With my thumb, I traced the curve of her bottom lip. “But, my love for you is the one thing that time, distance, and even those cold bars couldn’t diminish.”
Tears left her eyes.
“Do you still love me?”
She whispered, “Yes.”
Hearing those words, feeling the sincerity in her voice, it was as if a weight had been lifted off my chest. A rush of relief, mixed with a profound sense of hope, surged through me.
Zuri leaned into my touch.
“I love you too.” Unable to resist the magnetic pull between us any longer, I leaned in, closing the distance that time and circumstances had brought to us.
But, first my lips brushed against hers, serving more as a question hanging in the balance, asking for permission, for a sign that this was right.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she further leaned into me, a silent affirmation that sent a surge of joy through my heart.
Encouraged, I deepened the kiss, and our lips moved together in a dance as old as time yet as new as the moment.
Fuck.
The kiss started softly as we reacquainted ourselves, and there was a tenderness to it like we were both savoring the feel of each other, memorizing the contours of our lips, the taste of our breath.
A dark groan left me.
And soon, the pent-up emotions of five long fucking years began to surface.
The kiss grew more intense, fueled by longing, insanity, and just plain horniness.
Our tongues met, then with increasing urgency, they tangled and twisted with burning passion.
It was as if all the words we couldn’t say were being spoken through this one kiss.
The kitchen faded into nothingness.
There was only Zuri, me, and a kiss born of years of separation, of craving and heartache.
Our bodies pressed together.
Our hearts beat as one.
The heat between us was an inferno.
My cock grew hard in my pants, eager to be inside of her.
Soon.
My hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while her fingers tangled in my long hair, holding me to her as if she never wanted to let go.
