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I would never have the chance to properly thank Andrey myself for the way he put Tia first when he could’ve taken the cowardly way out.

Instead, he threw himself in the line of fire to defend her and keep her safe.

Because of him, we were able to take out Francesco and Tommaso before they could forcibly take Tia away. Before they attempted the unthinkable.

For that, I would be forever grateful.

Surprisingly, the sun was shining on the day of his funeral service. Despite the lingering numbness in the air at the sorrowful event, it still felt like a subtle bid of hope, like Andrey telling Tia to not let the grief overshadow the fact that she was safe and alive. That she had been given a second chance.

Standing by her side, I was well aware of how complicated her feelings were towards her father.

He had done some unforgivable things and used her in ways he never should have, but it was his sacrifice that undid our gunlock and helped bring us together again.

Of course, she was angry with him, but it seemed Tia wasn’t prepared to let it consume her.

The last week or so had been difficult, but I didn’t care. Regardless of what it took, I was willing to give it to her. Whether it was time alone or time together, I wanted to be as supportive as possible. Even if it made only the smallest difference, it was enough for me.

After making sure she and the baby were fine, we spent that time trying to find a new normal. Without blocking it out entirely, we had to process what we went through—Tia even more so. We had to sit in the grief and reality of the situation, while also appreciating the relief that came with our mutual safety.

Something in me wanted to be angry with Andrey on her behalf, especially given how he caused the whole confrontation by withholding the extent of his entanglement with the Gallo family. But in the wake of it all, I couldn’t bring myself to feel that way.

Instead, I focused on how he chose to make things right in the one way he could.

He may have failed her in other ways, but in that moment, he made the right choice for her, regardless of how painful it was in the end.

Tia had done her fair share of crying, but while we stood there watching as his casket was lowered into the ground, her bloodshot eyes were dry.

There was a quiet defiance in her tense shoulders, almost like she was refusing to show more of the sadness she had already endured. Instead, she maintained that brave face, as if she didn’t want to spill tears in his memory.

I silently commended the way she maintained a composure I didn’t expect from her. Instead of filling the occasion with despair, she was honoring him in her own way.

Regardless of how she felt or chose to present herself, I remained by her, offering the occasional touch of my hand against her back.

I was always going to be there for her, and I wanted her to know that.

Where Tia’s refusal to cry came from a place of respect and gratitude, the same thing from her mother didn’t feel quite so caring.

Tia never spoke of her much, and the funeral was the first time I’d even met her, despite how brief the interaction had been. She never even offered her daughter a hug or any semblance of comfort since it began.

I knew their relationship was strained, but seeing them around each other and hardly acknowledging one another seemed to say it all.

In my mind, she was only there out of obligation, not because she genuinely cared or wanted to witness her husband’s burial.

Her eyes were distant and cold, and from what I could tell, that sense of detachment seemed ever-present.

I never knew my mother before everything happened, but if I had to endure that kind of woman like Tia had, I imagined I’d feel the same way.

It was hard to not notice the way she wore those sunglasses, yet didn’t shed a single tear.

It was obvious she had no love for her husband, and that thought made my chest tighten.

Unable to look at her for another moment, I focused my attention on the last portion of the burial.

I didn’t know the full extent of what Tia experienced as her daughter, but from what I could tell, she missed out on raising a wonderful woman who meant the world to me.Whatever she’d once felt for her husband, it had clearly died before he did.

The thought of Tia ever losing that kind of affection for me rattled me to a point where I couldn’t stand it.

I didn’t want that fate for us. I couldn’t let that happen.

Eventually, the service finished, and everyone dispersed on their own time, but Tia stayed where she was, and I lingered for her sake.

I didn’t want to rush her, so I didn’t say anything for some time. Given how it was her period of mourning, I wanted everything to be on her terms, regardless of what that meant.

A long silence stretched between us before Tia eventually sighed. “I know I should be upset. Maybe relieved, angry, or a bit guilty that I walked away from it while he didn’t…but I don’t know what to feel.”

“You have the right to feel every emotion right now…but you don’t need to understand it yet,” I said gently, offering her whatever I could. “Don’t rush to figure it out.”

Tia looked over at me with a touch of gratitude in her features despite the pain and confusion lingering there.

“It’s hard…I never had the close relationship I always wanted with my parents, and right when it seemed like I could have that with my dad, it was all taken away.”

Nodding, I couldn’t deny how that seemed to be the case. I could tell Andrey did regret the things he did, but beyond his sacrifice, he never had the chance to do more than that.

Carefully, I reached for her hand, feeling relieved when she didn’t pull away. “I know he would’ve wanted that, and I’m sure the fact that you were even open to that possibility would’ve meant the world to him.”

Tia let out a shaky breath at that, nearly allowing those emotions to slip out again. She nodded.

“You’re right…I just wish he could’ve felt more warmth in the end. Mom, she…she didn’t care.”

With my heart squeezing again, I pulled her closer by the hand and gently cupped her face while I took in her beautiful features, even while they carried the weight of her quiet grief.

“Then let's both make a promise here and now that we’ll never be like your parents,” I began, gently stroking her skin to let her feel just how serious I was. “What we have is real…and I don’t care what it takes, I will work as hard as I need to in order to maintain it. You are my wife, and I plan to make sure you know just how much that means to me every day. I nearly lost you once; I damn well won’t let it happen again. That’s my promise to you.”

At my words, Tia softened, and the hope gleaming in her eyes let me know that was exactly what she needed to hear.

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she nodded, leaning into my touch.

“I promise…I promise we’ll be better,” she said just above a whisper. “I want this…you. Us.”

In turn, that was exactly what I needed to hear, and despite the weight of the day, I gave her a gentle smile.

“Then it’s decided…we will love each other regardless of what comes our way,” I said with an air of gentle finality. Carefully, I reached out to caress the swell of her stomach. “And our little one will only ever know that love.”

Tia’s soft, teary smile filled my chest with warmth, and she sniffled. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Unable to resist, I pulled her a touch closer and leaned in to gently capture her lips with my own.

There was a sweetness laced with determination in that embrace, and it reflected the promise exchanged between us.

In all ways, we would be better. Do better.

I was ready to do everything in my power to make sure Tia never had to feel that kind of distant cold again. To make sure we never ended up like her parents.

That was my oath to her.