The tension builds back up as he pounds into me, and I feel myself riding back to the top of the coaster. Settimo picks up his pace, and his breath quickens. He’s close, and so am I.
I throw my head back as my body pulsates a second time. My back arches, and my mouth opens, but my moan is swallowed up when Settimo kisses me. He pumps hard, once, twice, three times, and then he stills.
He rolls off me, and I put my head on his chest, my arm slung over him. He tucks his arm under me and cups my shoulder.
We don’t say anything for a while. Our heavy breaths fill the room, and I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of sweat and sex. I move my fingers across his damp abdomen and land on scar tissue. I open my eyes and stare at it. I noticed it the last time I was here, up in his bedroom after we had sex, but I didn’t ask about it.
I brush my fingers over the scar and close my eyes again.
“The day my father died, I got shot,” he says.
I tense, but don’t otherwise respond. My eyes stay closed, and I wait for him to continue.
“It was some bastard with a grudge against Lorenzo. Crazy anyone could have a grudge against him, I know.” Settimo chuckles, but it’s half-hearted. “Anyway, there was a shootout. My father took a bullet to save his family… What a fucking man, right?”
“You watched him die?” I ask, my voice low.
“I’ve watched a lot of people die.” Settimo tenses, and I can feel him slipping away from me. I press my lips against his chest and open my eyes to look at him.
“I’m sorry that happened… I wish it hadn’t.”
Settimo brushes the hair from my face. His lips pull into a sad smile. “Me too.”
He cups my face and kisses me, urging me toward him so he doesn’t have to crane his neck. This lasts a couple of minutes before I pull away and lay my head back on his chest. I relax into him and feel like I could fall asleep at any moment. I could stay like this for hours.
“I think I’m in love with you,” I whisper. I almost hope he doesn’t hear it, but I need him to. I need him to know, even if it changes nothing.
“Yeah,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “I think I’m in love with you too.”
I close my eyes and rest against him, savoring his smell and the feel of his skin. Maybe in another life it would matter that we loved each other. Maybe it would matter that he’s all I could ever want. But not in this one.
We both know this is goodbye.
19
ALEX
“Everything okay in there?” Paolo knocks on the bathroom door. “Alex?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lie, my hands wrapped around my knees as I sit on the tile.
Tomorrow is the day we’re supposed to get married. Strangely enough, I don’t feel so alone anymore. Paolo dreads tomorrow as much as I do, and we’ve managed to bond over it these last few weeks. Not a stay-up-late-talking type of bond, but a silent understanding that we’re in this hell together. Neither of us will marry the person we love.
I used to think I had it better than Paolo. He was an unkind, spoiled man who got to keep his life and yet acted as if my presence was a burden to him. I kind of get it now. At least my loves aren’t being murdered right in front of me.
“What does it say?” he asks, his voice hard.
I wonder if he’ll have to pay for this. After all, he gave his bride away. This is, in a way, his fault. Settimo certainly won’t be blamed.
Settimo.
I close my eyes and clench my jaw to hold the tears in. Settimo and I haven’t seen each other since the blood bath began. I’ve been living at Paolo’s house ever since. It’s safer with me here, for me and my family. I look less like a traitor and more like an obedient wife.
“I’m coming in.” Paolo jiggles the knob and bangs on the door when it doesn’t open. “Alex!”
“Give me a fucking minute!” I snap. “It isn’t done yet.”
“It’s been ten minutes. It’s supposed to take three.”