She began to shake. She couldn’t do this. Why had she let him go? She wanted to go to him right now. When you’re with someone you love...
“Freja.” Nels touched her arm and nodded to the floor below.
Giovanni blocked the aisle between stacks of books. He hadn’t shaved and his hair was ruffled. He was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but as everyone craned their necks to see where her attention had gone, he had eyes only for her. He touched his fingertips to his mouth and blew her a kiss.
The whole crowd sighed.
She released a teary laugh.
“I’ll go down,” Nels whispered, squeezing her arm. “You can do this.”
“I didn’t expect my husband to be here.” She sniffed back her tears and took a deep breath and pulled it together. “But I’m so glad he is.”
She set her fingertip under her own words and picked up where she had left off.
“‘I knew in my heart of hearts that I would not be in North Korea forever. That my journey would continue eventually...’”
Freja was tied up for hours. While she read, the place was so silent, the couple of times the barista caused the espresso machine to hiss, the poor woman earned a dozen dirty looks.
After a lengthy round of applause, people wanted selfies and her autograph in her father’s books.
“I’m so sorry,” she said when the crowd finally thinned out and she was able to come down to Giovanni.
“Why? You were working. Your fiancé kept me company.”
Nels went red and started to stammer. “Freja and I have talked and we’re not—”
“That was a joke,” Giovanni assured him and offered his card. “Call me tomorrow. We’ll talk properly about the handoff, which will still be very much hands-on.”
Giovanni was already thinking he wanted as much time as possible with Freja and, judging by tonight, she had commitments of her own.
“You were spectacular,” he told her as Nels left them alone.
She brushed off the compliment with a flushed smile. It faded slightly as she asked, “Why are you here?”
“To see you. Can I buy you dinner?”
“I’m not hungry. I could use a stiff drink, though,” she joked.
“There’s champagne at the apartment.”
“You want me to come home with you?” She dipped her chin, pleased and not at all as surprised as she was pretending.
“I do. Right now.”
Freja took a few calls in the car and apologized again as they entered the penthouse.
“Bidduzza, you have been very tolerant of my work. I’m happy to support yours. In fact, I’m so proud, my shirt shouldn’t have any buttons left.”
“Even though I left Sicily the way I did? I’ve had time to think, you know.” Time to regret leaving so abruptly.
“Come here. I want to tell you something.” He rolled closer to the sofa and moved onto it.
She followed and sank down next to him. He angled toward her and took her hand.
“Stefano and I were only thirteen months apart. Because of that, we did almost everything together, but when he turned fifteen, he was allowed to get a real job. It was a summer student position and he swore it was no better than glorified babysitting, but he was not at home weeding the vineyard to earn his allowance the way I was. The envy I felt that summer nearly ate me alive. I was excited for the next year when I presumed we would teach fencing together.”
She saw the shadows closing in on his gray eyes and swallowed. His thumb moved restlessly across the backs of her knuckles.
“He took after our mother. She was exuberant like him. Quite playful and funny. He got her black, curly hair and pointy chin. I have our father’s eyes and jaw. Papà was a more circumspect man. He had to be, given his position, but it was his nature to be very measured in the things he said and not to give away too much. I used to wish I was more like Stefano. He didn’t mind sharing his thoughts and never let the weight of the world settle on him. He knew how to laugh. And girls? Oh, they loved him.”
“You do fine with the ladies,” she pointed out.
“Ah, but the only lady that matters had a crush on him first.” There was only rueful affection in his tone.
“You loved him very much.”
“I loved all of them so much I didn’t know how I would survive when I woke after the crash.” His eyes grew wet. He didn’t hide any of the agony he felt to this day. “I’d never felt so alone. So left behind.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, cupping the side of his face.
He held her hand there and said, “When I realized the crash had been deliberate... I had to do something, but righting one wrong wasn’t enough. It became an obsession. A way to avoid addressing how empty my life was. Then, one day, there you were, a glimmer of gold in all the silt. But it was so complicated.”
“I know,” she murmured.
“When the possibility of a baby came up...” His eyes misted afresh. “I hadn’t let myself love in a long time, but I felt the roots of it starting in me. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to have a family with you. You, Freja. I could see it so clearly, I could taste it. And then it was gone.”
She swiped at a tickle on her cheek and her fingers came away wet. She leaned closer and he set his warm arm across her shoulders, nose to her temple.
“It locked me up again. It’s really hard to say it. To admit that I love you and want your love. I’m terrified of how vulnerable I am to the pain of loss, but losing you, even to a damned airplane and a day of travel... I want you in my life, Freja. I need you.”
“I want that, too,” she admitted shakily. “I love you, too. So much. I’m sorry I left. I hated myself as soon as I did.”
“Well, that will teach you.” He gathered her into his lap. “Don’t do it again.”
Six months later...
“Everything looks perfectly normal except...”
They both lost their smiles. Giovanni’s hand squeezed hers tighter. Freja swallowed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. See for yourself.” The technician pointed to the screen, then pointed to another spot on the screen, counting, “One, two. Twins.”
“But...” Freja trailed off, speechless.
“This is very common with in vitro fertilizations...” The technician sent a glance to Giovanni’s chair.