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Finally, we reached the nirvana we’d been chasing.
His mouth left mine as he drew back marginally to watch me travel through the place he had taken me to.
I moved my hands to hold on, digging my fingernails into his broad shoulders as I demanded he accompany me.
As Salvatore’s body tightened in preparation and then relaxed, white blinding light filled the back of my eyes as I reached the very pinnacle of my journey.
‘Sal… Oh, God, Sal.’ I heard his name leave me as the whole of the air in my lungs was forced from my body and replaced with pure unadulterated pleasure.
‘Serafina.’ My name was released on a groan.
Slowly, and together, we rode out the last waves of pleasure.
Salvatore kicked off his trousers, wrapped my legs around his waist, knocking the metal colander of tomatoes to the floor.
Ignoring everything around the two of us and holding me tightly, he walked us both to our room.
All thoughts of what I wanted to talk about abated.
Somewhere in the back of my head I knew that suited him just fine.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SALVATORE
I was convincedI was dreaming, but for some reason I couldn’t pull myself out from under. I was in a coma like state.
Trapped inside myself, watching.
Serafina was there I was fucking sure of it, in the blurry, dim light behind my eyes, and I took small comfort from that.
I could see her, but not touch her. I couldn’t go to her. I couldn’t comfort her and by the smell of cheap coffee that had permeated my nose, I knew exactly where my dreams had taken me.
We were back in London once again.
I’d gone to London when the days without her had bled into weeks and irreversibly into months. Until one day, I knew I could only carry on the fight our family was embroiled in if, even for a few short minutes, I got to breathe the same air as her.
After discussing my situation truthfully with my grandfather that day, I’d left the Calabrian countryside on my Ducati early one morning. I’d travelled from Italy to England to see with my own eyes just how much pain I’d caused her. Situated at the very back of the café, I’d waited, twisting my families garnet ring around and around my finger for two days, until she’d eventually made an appearance.
My body stopped functioning briefly as I watched her appear at the corner window and walk slowly against the wind and rain outside to the entrance. With her dark hair plastered to her pale face she backed into the café door, as she struggled to close the umbrella that she was holding in one hand and entered the same space as me.
Sweeping my eyes up and down her, I took in just how delicate she’d become. As she turned around on the spot looking for a vacant table, I’d forced myself to bend down to pick up something non-existent. When I heard the scrape of chair legs on the floor I sat back up and my eyes instinctively found her.
It hurt like hell to see her walk into the café her uncle had told me she frequented to study in. The pouring rain she’d walked through made her look more like a drowned rat, than the beautiful woman she was. I had to push my ass down into the fake leatherette underneath me to stop myself springing up to help her with the heavy pile of books she was struggling to carry. Her cheeks were pinched and the jeans she wore hung off her nearly non-existent ass.
I’d pulled down the baseball cap I was wearing and peered over the laptop screen in front of me, just in time to watch her look around the cafe. I could see she was hurting still, but those brilliant eyes of hers still held their spark and I knew that eventually she would grow stronger and more resilient. Sitting back into the uncomfortable seat, I’d watched a smile of welcome stretch over her face as her study companion had arrived.
After seeing her friend was female, I’d relaxed and breathed easier than I had for a very long time.
Her excited voice had found me when she stood up to greet her friend. As she pulled her into an embrace, I had to physically force myself to leave the café immediately afterwards, before I deliberately blew my cover and pulled her into my arms making her whereabouts known and possibly compromising her safety.
Knowing that at that point in time our lives had to be separate, I’d then sped through the foul weather and London traffic and had flown home that same afternoon. From that point onwards, I’d travelled back to London whenever I could, becoming that young boy once again who had watched her from afar.
She’s back.
You have her back.
She’s safe.
