Page 110 of Every Step She Takes

“I know she would.”

Marco and I are walking through the cemetery to Isabella’s grave. I didn’t attend the funeral service – that wouldn’t have been right. As we walk, I tell Marco that I’d like to stay for a month, visit with Mom and make sure Jamison and Tiana are okay.

“Is that a subtle hint for me to get my ass back to Italy?” he asks, forcing a smile.

I take his hand. “I would be absolutely delighted to introduce you to my mom. Now that I have my luggage back, you can give her the rosary.”

“That was for you to give her.”

“I prefer the truth. Her absentminded daughter forgot, and her absentminded daughter’s amazing boyfriend came through.”

He pulls me into a kiss and then says, “We haven’t talked about what comes next. You want to stay a month. And then…?”

“I’d like to go back to Rome. With you, obviously. I’m also willing to consider cohabitation.”

He smiles. “Your place? Cos I like yours better.”

“Mine if the landlord hasn’t kicked me out. As for my jobs, I’m sure I’ll get fired from one or two, but I’ll find other clients. I like what I do, and I have no intention of changing it. And while I know you enjoy being a tour guide, I kinda feel like it’s not your true calling.”

“I’ve already started looking into getting my investigator’s license.”

“Excellent.” I smack a kiss on his lips and then hook my arm through his as we resume walking.

“At the risk of pushing my luck…” he says. “After you were arrested, I made sure to get your rings back from the police.”

I arch a brow. “The fake engagement ring and wedding band?”

“I threw out the wedding band. It was just tin.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out the engagement one.

“A souvenir of our adventure?” I say with a laugh as I take it. I put it on my finger and wave it around. “I do like it. No one can tell it’s cubic zirconia.”

He says nothing. I look up at him, at his expression and…

“It’s not cubic zirconia, is it?” I say.

He clears his throat. “Once again, these things go so much better in my head.” He takes a deep breath. “I’d get down on one knee, but a cemetery is the most inappropriate place ever for that, which I should have realized before I said anything. I just wanted you to know that I kept the ring. If and when you want it, just say so, and I’ll do this properly. No pressure. No rush. I want you to have all the time you need.”

“And if I don’t need any time?”

He inhales sharply, and I cut off his reply with a kiss that lasts until an elderly woman harrumphs at us, and we guiltily continue walking.

We find Isabella’s grave. It’s a simple yet gorgeous headstone. Tiana’s choice, I’m sure. It’s in a spot with space for her children, and maybe even for Colt. A family plot, because they were a family, however fractured.

We lay flowers at Isabella’s grave, one bouquet among dozens, and then Marco steps back. I stay there, on one knee, and I remember Isabella. I remember the first time I met her, gardening in her yard. I remember playing music together under the stars. I remember lying on that bed in New York, talking into the night.

“I said I wrote you a fan letter when I was younger,” I say. “Even if things hadn’t gone wrong, I’m not sure I could ever have shown it to you.”

I slip the letter from my pocket. “This is that letter, Isabella, from a starstruck twelve-year-old girl to her idol. There were times I wanted to say you weren’t the person I wrote this letter to, that the girl who wrote it didn’t know the real you. And she didn’t. Because the real you was so much more.”

I tuck it into the bouquet we’ve left. Then I touch my fingers to her headstone.

“I was always your fan, Isabella.”

I push to my feet and make my way to Marco, as his arms open to pull me into a hug.