ALESSIO
I’ve never been good at waiting.
But this? This wait nearly breaks me.
I stand at the top of the steps, hands shoved deep in my pockets, watching Sophie step out of the car.
My heart pounds like it did the first time I kissed her, only now, it’s heavier, thick with everything I left unsaid and everything I still need to prove. Weighted with every moment I failed her. Every second I wasn’t there when she needed me. Every word I should’ve said but didn’t.
I wasn’t there to take her home from the hospital, and the guilt of that gnaws at me, consumed every minute I was away. I haven’t slept much over the last few days, worrying about her and the baby.
But the truth is, I needed time. Not to run, but to get it right this time.
I spent the last few days with my father, talking about what it means to do things on my own. To build something that’s mine. I told him I didn’t want his money or his backup. Just his blessing.
Then I finalized the paperwork on the house. Signed every damn page with one thought in my head.
Her. This place, this future, I want it to be hers as much as it is mine.
But the moment she closes the car door and starts walking toward me, all of it slips away.
Nothing prepared me for how much I still love her. Not even now, when she looks like she’s not sure whether to run toward me or turn back around.
God, I missed her.
I grip the edge of the railing to steady myself.
Please, let her still believe in us, even a little. Because I can’t go another day not seeing her face, not hearing her voice. I can’t go back to a life she’s not a part of.
She reaches the top step, and for a second, we just stare at each other.
“Hey, dolcezza . You have no idea how many nights I pictured you walking toward me like this.”
Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile, but her eyes… God, her eyes are still guarded.
Then I take a breath and gesture to the villa behind me. “This is it.”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly.
I nod. “Ours. If you want it.”
Her brows draw together. “What do you mean?”
I pull a set of keys from my pocket and gently place them in her hand.
“It’s for you. For us. And the baby. There’s a ranch out back. Enough room for horses. Space to breathe. To live.”
I try to laugh. “I couldn’t swing this on a bartender’s salary. Took out a loan from my old man. Pretty sure I’ll be working it off until I’m in my old age.”
She doesn’t smile. But her eyes linger on mine a moment longer, softer now, as if something inside her has shifted.
We step inside together.
It smells like fresh paint and citrus, the kind that reminds me of late summer and clean slates. Sunlight pours through massive windows, casting golden streaks across the hardwood floors.
It’s empty. Echoing. But it already feels full, with possibility.
I look at her. “I didn’t want to show you this until I was sure I deserved you. But then I realized… I may never feel worthy. But I just know I don’t want to live another single day without you.”
She looks around slowly, soaking it in, her fingers brushing the wall like she’s testing whether it’s real.
My voice cracks. “I want to give you everything, Sophie. Not just houses and cars or stupid jokes and orgasms. I want to give you peace. A partner. A place to belong. Home.”
Her eyes flick to mine, glassy and unreadable.
She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, then closes it again. A breath shudders out of her, and her hand presses instinctively over her belly.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers. “Part of me wants to scream at you. The other part wants to fall into your arms and pretend none of the pain ever happened.”
I take a small step closer, not touching her. “Then do both. Yell at me. Fall apart. Just… Please stay. Don’t walk away.”
She bites her lip, seems torn. And for the first time since she stepped out of that car, I see something break through the hesitation.
She studies me. Really studies me. The tired eyes. The nervous hands. The cracks in the armor I used to wear like a second skin.
The man standing in front of her isn’t the same reckless asshat she once knew.
“I don’t need all this,” she says finally, her voice quiet but sure. “Not the house. Not the land.”
My heart stutters. Fuck. I’m too late. This is it, she’s pulling away. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built, still isn’t enough.
The weight of my failure crushes my chest, and I brace for the worst.
"I just need you,” she says softly. “I love you, Alessio.”
The words land like a whisper against my chest, but they hit harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.
“I’ve loved you since the beginning,” she says. “The night you kissed me like I was something you couldn’t lose. And every day after, even when you were infuriating. Even when you left.”
She shakes her head, blinking away the tears. “You changed everything. The way I see love. The way I see myself. You made me brave enough to want more.”
She steps closer, placing her hand flat against my chest. “But I don’t just want the idea of you anymore. I want the real you. Messy. Flawed. Here.”
I cover her hand with mine, pressing it tighter to my heart.
"I love you, Sophie."
My voice is rough, thick with everything I’ve held back.
“You changed me, dolcezza . You broke me open and made me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of. You made me want to be the kind of man who shows up. Who stays. Who chooses you. Who you choose, every day.”
I take her other hand gently. “If you’ll let me... I want to spend the rest of my life proving it.”
She kisses me.
Not tentative. Not gentle.
It’s a kiss that speaks of everything we’ve been through. Of pain, of longing, of hope clawing its way back to the surface.
My arms wrap around her instantly, pulling her against me like I’ve been starved for the feel of her.
Her fingers tangle in my shirt, and I pour everything into the kiss. Every promise. Every apology. Every piece of the man I’ve become for her.
Then she breaks away, just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against mine.
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she whispers. “Even when I wanted to. Even when I told myself I should.”
I kiss her again, my lips crashing into hers.
I pull her in close, pressing my forehead to hers. “Let’s christen this place the right way, shall we? I hear hardwood floors are surprisingly durable.”
She laughs.
Not a small breath or polite chuckle, but a real laugh. Full and bright. The first one I’ve heard from her in weeks.
And just like that, the air shifts. The weight lifts.
We don’t need champagne. Or a crowd. Or validation from anyone else.
Just this. Just us.
The beginning of something real, our way.
We walk hand-in-hand through the house, the sunlight catching on the clean white walls and polished edges of a life that hasn’t fully begun yet.
Sophie pauses outside one of the rooms. The door creaks open slowly, revealing an empty space bathed in soft yellow light. A single rocking chair sits in the corner, waiting.
“I figured this could be the nursery,” I say, suddenly unsure of myself.
She steps inside, fingers brushing the doorframe. Her throat bobs.
“It’s perfect.” She turns back to me, her expression unreadable, her eyes shining. “You’re really all in, aren’t you?”
I take her hand, lift it to my lips, and kiss her knuckles.
“With everything I’ve got.”
That night, we lie curled together on the couch. The house is still mostly empty, but it doesn’t matter. Her head rests on my chest, her hand draped protectively over her belly.
She shifts slightly, her voice a whisper against the quiet. “Are you scared?”
I don’t lie. “Terrified. But I’d rather be terrified with you than fearless without you.”
She tilts her head up, eyes meeting mine. “We’ve been through hell, haven’t we?”
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to her temple. “But we came out the other side. Stronger. Together.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, the kind only earned through war and survival.
Then I shift to face her fully, my voice low and full of something unshakable.
“When they're old enough, I want our child to look at us and see two people who fought like hell for each other. Who chose each other. Every time.”
Sophie presses her forehead to mine, her eyes brimming.
“They will.”
Because after all the scandals, betrayals, and heartbreak…
We chose love.
Table of Contents
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- Page 44 (Reading here)
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