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"Really?" I sat forward, waiting for my tea to seep into the heated water.
Her smile widened again, letting me see the purity of her serene face. "You were like a life vest I never knew I needed, but my soul craved for you to keep rescuing me. It knew sooner than I did that my life was in shambles of the lies I kept telling myself to carry on. It knew you were real, genuine."
"Even though I stalked and kidnapped you?" I reminded her of my own deceit.
"Even then," she agreed. "I don't know how to describe it, but you felt real in the delusion I kept trekking through to survive. For the first time, the barrier pulled away for me to see it too, and it came from you and Draven being real. It saved me."
"You saved us too," I murmured. Picking up my tea, I didn't drink it yet, staring at the languid liquid. "Everything in our world is dark all the time. Then you struck us stupid with your rays of light, of kindness. You talk of us being genuine, but you were what literally kept Draven from going feral in prison, and you anchored me, promising we could find happiness after his escape. He describes you as an angel his mother must've sent, and I'd agree."
Blushing, she hid behind sipping her own tea. "I never would've believed anyone that I could be happier being abducted than before, but I am. I miss my dad here and there, but I know we can arrange for visits, or I'm hoping we can."
"Always, Emilia."
"Always," she whispered the word with a smile. "You know, I think that's what should've been my clue you two were in cahoots. I love how you use it."
Taking a light drink, I set my tea down and nodded my head, loving it too. "It became our promise to each other and now to you. We lived in a world of unknowns, but we knew one thing, we'd always have each other. Saying always is like a pinky promise to a toddler, an unbreakable vow." Lifting my gaze to see her better, she held one dainty hand over her heart, feeling the raw emotion of what I meant. "Always also means love. I will always love you, so when we use it, that surety is wrapped within forever."
"Always," she let her soft voice carry to my ears in response, promising the same level of affection. Before we could carry on, her phone dinged, startling her out of giving me her loving stare. She snatched her phone quicker than I'd ever seen her move, almost like she was trying to hide something. When she saw my curiosity, she guiltily set it down after reading the message on it. "I'm not going to say what I'm up to, but I'm hoping I can bring a spark of joy back into Costas's life."
"Costas?" We knew this was coming, gaging their closeness lately.
"He's grieving something that isn't mine to share with you, so I'm hoping I can surprise him with my plan later this week. Would you mind if I took him into town then? It wouldn't interfere with your other stuff, but I want to surprise him."
My heart softened because I knew her kindness reached no end. Costas hid his emotions from everyone, so the fact he let her in told me everything I needed to know. He loved her too, but he'd deny himself forever to respect me. I'd have to find a way to bring that up and change it, but I wasn't sure how. Saying, 'Oh hey, we can share a girlfriend' felt odd and out of place because with Draven it meant we'd share each other. Costas didn't swing that way.
"I'd love nothing more," I earnestly told her. "Just let me know what day and time, so I can help you organize him leaving."
"I'm hoping to do it Thursday evening at the secret pastry shop you and Draven would sneak to. That way, no one will see what I don't want them knowing."
"I hope you'll share with me after?" I asked.
"If he lets me. It's very personal for him, and I know my secret plan is already overstepping." Chewing her lip, I could see it riddled her with anxiety.
"Then how about we change the subject and sneak down to the kitchen and find some of our own pastries to eat with our tea?" Standing, I held out my hand toward her. Gleefully accepting, she took my hold and walked with me down to the stairs. Before we reached the kitchen, we heard Kasey squeal just as Rocco chased after her with a growl. The man had made himself more than comfortable here, and he kept Kasey away from my men for them to focus better when it came to keeping the area secure.
Emilia shook her head with a laugh, knowing her best friend enjoyed her time here. Entering where the lingering smells kept wafting, we found my Nonnie bossing around the cooks to make her recipe perfect. Ah, she always struggled giving up control even though she couldn't move much anymore.
"What's she doing?" Emilia questioned beside me.
"She's making sure none of these cooks forget her teachings when the day comes she can no longer sit beside them to hover over their techniques." Even saying it to her, broke me. I grew up with the woman feeding me her delights and whipping me with a towel when I tried to cheat to move on faster.
"I hope to be like her, but with a little less..." she couldn't think of a word.
"I know what you mean." Kissing her temple, I stepped away to give my grandmother one too. The worn woman paused to see me and the lovely woman I brought into her domain.
"You come to cook?" she asked toward Millie.
"Me?" she squeaked in her adorable way.
"Si!" Without giving her the option to say no, Emilia got herded toward the sink to wash up, and I joined, knowing better than to deny my Nonnie this moment with my girlfriend. Her arm got tugged to the prep table in the middle of the kitchen where a bag of flour sat with some fresh eggs and oil. The cooks were prepping the vegetables in their locations, steaming the tomatoes to peel the skins. I knew we were about to have her homemade marina sauce with pasta. Rolling my sleeves up, I removed my tie as well. Business would be done for the day for me to have this moment with my two favorite women.
"Pasta!" My grandmother praised the ingredients in front of her. Sometimes, my joy didn't come from ending people who hurt my loved ones. It came from living in the simple pleasures of being with them. Some saw pasta making as a chore, but I only saw the love in it now, unlike my younger self.
Forming our domes of flour, Nonnie showed Emilia how to hollow out the center for the eggs to get beaten in. Whisking away with a fork, Emilia kept laughing and squeaking when some would slop over her mountain of flour. Her joy showed in the time we spent digging our hands into the flour and egg, molding it together to form the dough. Nonnie never left her side, knowing I had all the practice to not screw up my own volcano of flour.
My grandmother didn't speak much English, so with the little she did, she used motions with her weathered hands to teach Millie. Even though she couldn't tighten her fists around the dough anymore and it probably pained her to attempt to, I saw how much joy it brought to her to have a willing student, eager to learn. Emilia had said she loved cooking, and I finally got a glimpse of that.
Flour found its way over both of us, marking our cheeks and noses in the rare occasion we tried to brush it off, only adding more. My slacks were powdered in some areas, but I felt at peace with it. Our lives weren’t perfect, but we were making perfect moments.
