Shit.
I’m crying.
“Musa?” he whispers to me, still inside me. I never want him to leave.
He places his thumbs below my eyes and wipes away the tears.
“I love you,” I cry out, feeling stupid.
His eyes glow with adoration as he gazes down at me. “Yes, I know. But please, don’t stop saying it.”
I pinch my eyes shut. The relief over telling Vanni, the fear that I’ll lose Jana as an agent, that my book might be in jeopardy, all these feelings are swirling around, competing against each other for my attention.
But the fact that I love him, and that I have his love, is the biggest one of all.
And my heart has never felt so full.
No matter what happens, I’m going to be okay.
We’re going to be okay.
After all, I know the ending.
Twenty-Three
Claudio
It feels good to be in my own bed.
It feels even better to have Grace beside me.
No more sneaking around. Just the pure truth. Just us.
“Good morning,” I whisper to her. She’s curled on her side, head on the pillow, hair spilling around her. Her eyes slowly blink open and I’m caught in how startlingly blue they can seem first thing in the morning. I love this version of Grace, when her mind is quiet and she’s in the moment. She looks at me and I know that I’m all she sees.
“Good morning,” she says quietly. Her expression is so soft and sweet.
I’m falling more in love with her all the time.
“How did you sleep? You seemed like you were out right through the night.”
She wets her lips. “I think so? I was so tired when we got home I just passed out the moment my head hit the pillow.”
It’s true. Once we arrived back to Villa Rosa from Florence it was fairly late, and we were all exhausted since we tried to cram so much in that last day. Even Vanni fell asleep in the car on the short drive home.
But with Vanni knowing about us, and giving us his approval, I knew that if Grace wanted to sleep in my bed, that we wouldn’t have to hide it. I still want to keep things light in front of Vanni, for obvious reasons, and I’m a bit wary of even kissing her in front of him, but he didn’t seem to notice she went to sleep in my room.
In our room.
Because that’s what this is now.
“Allora,” I say slowly, not wanting to scare her off. She might love me, but what I’m about to say to her could still come on too strongly for her. “When are you going to move in with me?”
She stills, staring up at me. “Move in here?”
“Yes. We talked about this before. You suggested I come up to Edinburgh…”
“Oh, I know. I know. And that’s not an option. I just…”
“I’m coming on too strongly?”
She grins. “You are coming on just strong enough. You wouldn’t be Claudio otherwise. You wouldn’t be the man I fell in love with.”
Fuck.
I can’t get enough of those words. I’m aware that it’s been only a couple of days since she first told me she loved me, but I have been reveling in them ever since.
She loves me.
My heart couldn’t be more full. I have a son that loves me, and respects that Grace and I want to be together, and I have the love of an amazingly talented, inspiring, complicated woman who keeps me on my toes. I’m excited to go back to the marble statue today, and I know it’s going to be one of my best pieces, all because of her.
I have everything I want.
Except I want her to move in with me.
And then marry me.
And then it will be complete.
“Besides,” she goes on, “you told me the other day that you want me forever and I told you the same. Forever means I’m going to be moving in here. I just have to figure out the process.” She pauses and sits up. “It definitely means I need to finish my book first before I get any more distracted.”
Then she goes stiff.
I sit up beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She nods, her face pale. “Aye. I just realized…what’s the point of finishing the book when I don’t even know if I have an agent?”
Right.
After Jana found out about us, and I ended up arguing with her in the streets of Florence, it was unclear what Jana’s plans were. She was pissed, that much was true, though she never outright told me that she didn’t want to represent Grace anymore. Perhaps she knew if she did, then I’d really let my temper fly. We’ve had so many fights in the past that it gets pretty exhausting, and I don’t think either of us wanted to deal with that.
All Jana wanted to do was see her son for the rest of that night, and then the next morning she flew back to London.
I haven’t contacted her yet, knowing she needed a few days of space to clear her head and calm down. I know her pride was damaged, and the bear was poked, but I figure she’ll eventually come to her senses.
At any rate, it’s not Grace’s job to contact her. She did nothing wrong.
“I’m going to call her today,” I tell Grace.
“Oh no, don’t,” she cries out, her forehead creasing. “Please don’t.”
“Why not? She is my ex-wife. We had a fight and I need to make sure she’s not punishing you for no reason.”
“It’s not for no reason…”
“Tell me, Grace, if you were in her shoes, how would you react?”
“I…” she rubs her lips together, thinking. “I would be taken aback. No doubt. But in the end, I think I would want you to be happy.”
“Yes. That is the correct way to act. It doesn’t matter anyway, I need to talk to her, because you’re mine and you’re going to move in with us here, and you’ll continue to be a part of my life, and therefore you’ll be a part of hers. It’s in her best interest to behave. And remember, you’re the talented one here. She represents you because you are good. If she drops you, you will find another agent, and things don’t look so well for her, do they?”
She nods, looking down at her hands.
“What I am saying,” I tell her, brushing her hair behind her shoulder, “is that you need to go and finish the book. That’s all. It’s just you and the book. I’ll handle Jana, okay? Then when all is said and done, then we’ll get you moved out of your flat in Edinburgh and everything else that follows. But for now…your job is to write. Capisci?”
“Okay,” she says after a moment. Then she throws her shoulders back. “I’m going to write.”
She hops out of bed, spry as anything.
“Where are you going?” I ask her. “It’s early.”
“I’m going to the loo,” she says, heading to the toilet. “Then I’m going to my office.”
“I’m going back to sleep,” I tell her, flopping back down on the bed.
“No you’re not!” she calls out. “You know I can’t work without the espresso.”
Damn. She’ll never figure out that machine.
I groan loud enough so that she hears it, and then get out of bed to make her coffee.