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Entering the kitchen where my mother stands by the counter, I avoid her gaze and head for the fridge. Maids wander around the kitchen, making breakfast while she stands with a glass of water and a small tablet in her grasp.
She sends small smiles to the women surrounding us as a way to escort them out.
When we're left alone, my eyes draw to her in slight disbelief. I haven't spoken to her since she told us her news and I wasn't looking forward to what she has to say.
I know it'll be along the lines of how she didn't want to tell us sooner or how she kept it from us for a reason. At this point, I don't know what she could say to make the situation better.
I'd left Farrah asleep up in the bedroom just minutes ago, but I was itching to go back and lay beside her.
My mother sighs, "Domenico, amore mio..." Her tone is feeble, significantly different from her usual assertiveness. She reaches forward to press a hand to my cheek and I tense up for a second, "I apologize for springing this on you. You didn't deserve that." I remain quiet. She purses her lips. "And Farrah. She didn't deserve it either."
A huff of amusement escapes my nose as I step back a bit, "Ok, madre. Apprezzo le scuse, ma non hai niente da scusarti. Sei malato, lo capisco. Sono stato solo... preso alla sprovvista." Okay, mother. I appreciate the apology but you have nothing to say sorry for. You're sick — I understand that. I was just... thrown off guard.
She tilts her head and clears her throat, "When you walked in here yesterday with Farrah by your side, I saw something in your eyes. Something I'd only ever seen when your father looked at me."
I blink and of course, I know what she's referring to but I'd rather her say it than I put words in her mouth and therefore put myself on the spot, "And what was that?"
"Love." Her tone is dreamlike but I can tell she's about to continue, "Dom... it might be hard to believe, but when I'm gone —"
"No." I deadpan and step back, my jaw clenching, "We're not talking about this."
"We have to, Domenico." She says, "I'm dying and there's nothing we can do to stop it. The least you can do for me is make sure you keep that woman safe and taken care of."
"Mama."
She holds up a finger, "You pulled her into your world, Nico. It's your job to make sure she's alive in it, even after I'm gone."
With that, the maids reenter and I find myself slipping out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom. When I glance toward where I left Farrah, I see empty sheets and a trail of clothes leading me to the attached bathroom.
She's in the tub, humming along to some random song, her head leaning against the back of the tub and her eyes closed. Her shoulders are relaxed and so is her face.
Leaning against the door jamb, I find myself staring at her, analyzing every part of her body that isn't submerged by water.
It was by a glorious miracle that she entered my life. That night at the restaurant, I didn't expect her to be the person that opened my eyes to what I could have in my future that wasn't limited to killing people (among the many other things that I've done).
She's shown me that I can love. She's accepted me and what I do, despite her job of doing the opposite of mine. She stuck around, even after I told her of my enemy.
And now, standing here, watching her be herself, I find the three words leaving my mouth without question or hesitation.
"I love you."
Slowly yet suddenly, her eyes open and she transfers her gaze to me. Her body shifts under water as she pulls her knees to her chest and her jaw falls slightly, "You what?"
I take a step toward her. Then two. Then three. Then I'm crouching beside her, my fingers now caressing her soft cheek. "I love you, Farrah. And while the moment should be more romantic, I can't go another second without letting you know how I feel." Her eyes are doe as she stares up at me while I continue. "You know who I am and what I do, yet you stay, despite all the shit that has potential to ruin us." She takes her bottom lip into her mouth but her eyes don't leave mine. "Tu sei quella che stavo aspettando (You are the one I have been waiting for) and I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I'm worthy of your love."
A moment of silence passes, my eyes searching hers for an answer. Anything that would tell me her response. She rests her hand on my cheek and smiles. And like the sun rising with a beautiful orange haze that signifies a new day with new chances, a weight on my heart lifts and her next words bring joy to my entire being.
"I love you, Domenico."
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what kind of books would y'all like to see me write after i finish my already long list of drafts that i want to publish?
and i literally HATE this chapter and the way my mind is working (because it's not)
