Page 108 of Always Mine
“I was in Sicily with Sophia’s family who were staying at the private luxury villas where Roberto had just dropped off Elena. Of course I didn’t know that, because I was returning from town where I had just been to meet a prospective client who was traveling to New York later that month and required on-the-ground security. Until a few hours ago, I didn’t know that the client I met that day was Chiara’s uncle and subsequently your dad’s brother.”
“Fuck, what are the chances,” I whisper, recognizing the heavy hand fate has had in all of this.
“Do you need a moment, son?” my dad asks. “This is a lot to take in.”
“No, no. Please keep going, I need to know.”
“So I was on my way back and decided to stop in for a quiet espresso in this hole-in-the wall bar after stepping off the train. I sat down next to this young man. The first thing I noticed was how well-presented he looked for his age. It was summer, so it was warm out and most people were dressed for the beach. But not him. He was dressed impeccably in slacks, suspenders, a long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled, and leather loafers. He had the most piercing green eyes, just like yours, son. You’re so close in those bars your elbows touch, so it felt somewhat rude not to acknowledge his presence. Once I had ordered my coffee, I turned and greeted him, asking in Italian how his day was. When he made eye contact to answer me back, the sadness in his eyes was palpable. Like it had its own heartbeat. We made small talk, and I mentioned I was in security. He told me he was in the family business. Then he asked where I was staying, and when I told him, his whole face changed, like he was grappling with a thousand different scenarios of how this was going to go. He saw something in me that made me a safe bet, because the next thing I knew, he pulled out a wad of cash and took the gold chain off his neck, pressing it into my palm. I could sense the urgency in his movements, like time was running out.”
He pulls my mom into his side to comfort her; retelling the story for my benefit means she needs to relive the tragedy of it too.
“He explained he was returning from that very place, that the owners were good people and hiding the love of his life who was pregnant with their first child. He asked me to take the cash and necklace to give to her just in case he never made it back. He told me he had this feeling he’d been followed. I told him I could help keep him safe too. He refused my offer, but he made me promise him one thing: that if anything happened to him when he walked out of that coffee shop or he didn’t return to the property withina week, that I would look after you and your mom like you were my own.”
He pauses and lets me soak in the enormity of what he’s saying and the impact it has on my sense of identity. Did AJ know who I was? How long did Chiara know? All these questions buzz around my already throbbing head.
“He told me his dying wish was to get your mother out of Italy and keep you both away from the mob life. So I looked that man in the eye and shook his hand, pledging to do just that. Then I watched as he walked out of the coffee shop, looking around calmly before he crossed the small piazza. I watched a man approach him, getting in close as though they were having a conversation. On the strike of noon while the bells tolled, I watched as his body crumpled to the cobblestones, blood quickly pooling around him. I told the owner to call for help and ran out to try to save him, but it was a close-range shot. He was gone. I had to figure out a way to keep his dying wish. So I did the only thing I could to guarantee you both safe passage to America. I married your mother that week, and Patrick organized all the legal paperwork for immigration. And within two weeks, we were all back on U.S. soil, Elena and I fumbling our way through marriage and grief and a pregnancy. But through it all, we found unwavering love, only further strengthened when you entered this world nearly six months later.”
Tears stream silently down all the faces gathered around my bed, my own barely in check.
“Marco, you may have never met the man who made you, but you carry that same selflessness in you. Just that small interaction with him proved to me he was an honorable man, and I wanted to do the right thing. That’s the very same thing you did tonight. I need you to know, even if you’re angry with us right now, I am so damn proud to be the one you call Dad. Even though Roberto passed the baton to me to guide you through life, you still carry the legacy of the good man who made you. My only regret is that it took almost losing you for us to find the courage to havea conversation we should have had many years ago. I’m sorry, son. Truly.”
All I can manage is a nod and a weak squeeze of his hand. I’m too medicated and too shocked to give much more.
“Darling, we’re going to leave you to rest. We can talk about this any time you want. I just hope you can forgive us,” my mom pleads.
“I love you, son,” my dad reiterates, squeezing my shoulder. “Get some rest.”
“I love you both too,” I croak.
Once they’re out of the room, I break down, crying for a man I never knew, from sheer relief that I’m alive but mostly out of gratitude. I understand how it feels to carry a secret around on your back like a cross, and Samuel has done that for me for almost three decades. Despite the circumstances, perhaps we can all have a fresh start with no more secrets. I just hope when all is said and done, Sophia will still be the one by my side.
Chapter seventy-seven
The Best Man
Sophia
Ihaven’tmovedfromhis bedside or let sleep take me, too scared that if I do, I’ll never see him again. Marco is thankfully asleep, the breathing monitor a salve to my fears I could still lose him. As if the bullet hadn’t already done a good enough job, the revelation of his big family secret hit hard. When Samuel and Elena left the room, I climbed onto the bed on his uninjured side and just held him the best I could as the tears steadily and silently fell down his face. When he couldn’t fight sleep any longer, he succumbed to its pull, and I spent hours tracing every detail of his face and body with my eyes and fingers, the gravity of nearly losing him making my insides twist violently.
After we got the news that Marco was stable and would make a full recovery, all our family and friends left to get some rest. They’ll all be back later today to visit. I refused to leave his bedside. In fact, I’m never leaving his side again. Marco groans, and it snaps me from my thoughts. I gently move off the bed and lean over him, stroking his hair off his handsome face.
“Marco, are you okay, baby?”
His eyes flutter before he slowly opens them. “Sophia, what are you still doing here?” he croaks. “You need to get some rest.”
This man. He’s the one lying in a bed with a bullet wound, and he’s worried about me getting rest. Every doubt I ever had about him dissipates, because the essence of who he is has never been more apparent; he’s selfless, loving, honest, and will protect the ones he loves at any cost. He would have died for me. That’s all it takes for the floodgates to break again.
“Come here, baby.” He gingerly pats his chest. I bury my face into him and let it all out.
“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, Kitten. You know you’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” he jokes weakly.
I compose myself and sit on the edge of the bed so I can look into his eyes when I say what I should have said weeks ago. He goes to talk, and I place a finger over his lips to silence him.
“I need you to listen. I didn’t need you to go off and become a better man, Marco, because you were already the best man for me. Time and time again, you showed me all the ways you were all in. It was me who was too scared to jump with you. When I found out about the deal you made with my dad, I convinced myself my doubts were founded.”
I pause so I can get through the next bit without crumbling. Marco entwines our fingers and starts turning soothing circles with the soft pad of his thumb over my skin. Our own little love language. I’m here. I’ve got you. Always and forever.
“You’re all I ever dreamed of, Marco. I love you and all the ways you show me love. Even stripped bare, you make me feel like I am worthy of shining. And no one else has ever made me feel like that. I don’t think anyone ever will.”