They give me regular updates on his condition, which remains unchanged. They also tell me Theresa refuses to leave his side. As for Nonna, she comes to the hospital and sits with Theresa as often as she can.
I still haven’t completely forgiven my grandmother for the secrets she kept, but if she finds it difficult to face the man whose very existence she kept hidden from us, she’s not showing it.
I haven’t been there to see him. I can’t bring myself to go. Hell, tackling one emotional entanglement in my life at a time is, apparently, all the mind space I have. I’ve handled more than my share of stress within the Mafia business, but tackling something so personal? Yeah, it’s a completely different sensation. I walk over to where she’s standing, and she stiffens. I pause in front of her, then lower myself to my knees.
"What … what are you doing?" she gasps.
"I’m sorry." I lower my chin to my chest. "I am truly sorry for what I said and did. All of it. From the beginning. I shouldn’t have threatened you to get what I wanted. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. But mostly, I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should have waited and allowed you to explain. I’m sorry I shut you down in front of everyone else. I’m so sorry that I walked away from you. I’ll never forgive myself for that."
Her chin trembles. "You hurt me so much, Christian," she says in a low voice. "You broke my heart."
"And I feel terrible for doing it. As long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you. I deserve your hate. I deserve for you to loathe me, to be angry with me. If you never want to see me again after this, I’ll understand."
"It’s not like I’m not at fault. I should have come to you; I realize that now. It’s just, I found it difficult to trust you then."
"And now?"
"Now I’m not sure anymore." She glances away from me.
"You said you loved me."
"So did you."
"I still do."
"And I… I’m not sure what I feel for you anymore." She wrings her fingers together, and I see the flash of platinum on her left hand.
"You’re still wearing your wedding ring."
"Eh?" She holds up the fingers of her left hand, then glances down at mine. "So are you."
I slide my fingers into my pocket then pull out a ring.
She glances at it, and her gaze widens. "Is that…" She blinks rapidly. "It can’t be; is it—?"
"Your engagement ring."
"How did you find it?"
"I looked for it."
"When? How?" She opens and shuts her mouth. "I threw it into the snow."
"I went back there. After I returned from seeing you at the airport, my brothers gave me grief. They told me how wrong I was to have treated you like that in front of everyone."
"They did?"
"They also said that if I didn’t go after you, they’d never forgive me."
"Oh…" She swallows. "Is that why you came, because they asked you to?"
"I came because," my voice cracks, and I draw in a breath. Why is this so hard? I shake my head to clear it. "I came because I love you and can’t live without you. And I wanted to show you just how much it means to me that you forgive me. So, I went back to the lodge, and I scoured the snow and the grounds—"
"But that’s acres and acres of space."
"Yeah…" I blow out a breath. "I don’t recommend doing it."
"Jesus, Christian." She folds her arms around her waist. "How many days did you—"