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We stayed in silence for a while, the only noises the old house creaking and the sounds coming from outside of the gym. This time, it wasn’t something we created from distance, but something we settled into. Something comfortable, like skin and bones, and something everlasting, like a soul.
“I missed you, Lilo,” she whispered.
“Missed is nothing but a word made of water, when I need one made of blood to describe how the separation felt. You locked me out. You locked me out of my life.”
“You asked me—why now? Why I let you in?” She played with the button on my dress shirt before she looked up at me again. “Carine had written me a letter a while back. After what happened on what was supposed to be our wedding day. In it, she said she didn’t want this to go unsaid. She was always there for us, but she never really meddled. She always felt we would work it out ourselves. But I guess she was starting to doubt.
“She did the same thing I did for Ava. She just wanted to know if we were going to be okay. And one day Michele came inside and mumbled something to her. She told him to speak up because she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She was washing dishes, thinking about us. He came into the kitchen and repeated himself. He’d said, ‘The odds are stacked against them. But they’re good enough to beat the odds.’ He was talking about baseball. She said he enjoyed it from time to time, but it seemed like it was out of the blue. But she knew it wasn’t. It was more. She knew then that she had to write me the letter. Clara gave it to me the night the lights went out. When Mo came to Sonny’s house.”
“After you locked me out,” I said, “I’ve been fighting my way out of the life.”
She placed her palms against my chest and lifted herself some. She looked me in the eye. “How?”
I shrugged. “Day by day, night by night. Little by little.”
“Paul Gallo,” she said. “He’s out to get you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You can say that. But now we’re on an even playing field. I’m the same thing he is. But this isn’t a battle with swords between us. This is a battle of wits. We’ll talk about it later. It’s our wedding night.”
“We’re on the floor,” she said, like she’d just realized it.
“Yeah,” I said. “But we’ll get up.”
“I don’t care, Lilo,” she said. “In or out, it doesn’t matter. You were right. I want this. I want you. You’re my husband—”
My hands fisted in her hair and my lips came over hers. She whimpered into my mouth, pushing herself closer to me. When we broke apart to take a breath, she blinked up at me.
“What?” she whispered.
“Monday,” I said. “You’re going to fucking change your name. You’re going to wear my name like you wear my ring on your left finger. For the rest of your life.”
She searched my eyes for a second. “You didn’t push it before, because you didn’t want Paul Gallo to know.” She almost looked relieved, like she thought I didn’t fight for it before because I didn’t want her to.
“It was better the way it was. I called you my wife, but without the paperwork. I claimed you that way. Everyone thinks I’m fucking nuts.”
“That’s because you are.” She grinned.
She wasn’t wrong. Ava had nothing on me when it came to being obsessed.
I stood, holding out my hands. She looked up at me before she put both of hers in mine. I pulled her up and kept her close.
“What about now?” she breathed out. “If Paul Gallo doesn’t know yet, he’ll know soon. He finds out everything.”
“Right now? I’m going to unwrap my wife, find out what she wore for me underneath this dress, and worship her body until the word ‘missed’ turns into my blood. And the rest? Fuck it all.”
LUCILA
PRESENT DAY
I needed a minute to catch my breath. It had been a whirlwind of a day—of a week. I was mentally, physically, and emotionally tired. But there was a light inside of me that burned hot.
Setting my palms against the bathroom counter, I took a deep breath. My face was red and puffy, but my eyes—they were bright and alive. My heart felt the same. It felt free. It always did when I was with him. Because he was home.
I’d made myself so numb by burying the hurt. When all the emotions came to the surface, a version of me that felt everything for the first time came to life. Even physical touch felt foreign, but I settled into it like it was the most natural thing.
That was a good metaphor for our relationship. For the second breath it was getting.
A rush that I wasn’t expecting surged up and seemed to flood my heart. I was having a hard time catching my breath because he was waiting for me, and I was free to give in.
