Chapter Fifty-Seven Larissa
Chapter Fifty-Seven
LARISSA
STANDING IN FRONT of the floor-length mirror, I slide my palm down the silky lingerie.
The baby-doll straps of the one-piece bodice billowing at my shoulders before thinning, the cups just wide enough to conceal my nipples.
The rest of the cut bypassing my hips in a V, which ends at a narrow scrap of fabric between my thighs.
This lingerie a departure from the traditional Capodanno gift I receive every New Year’s—a simple red lace bra and panty set.
The gesture meant to bring luck, fortune, love, and a clean start.
The box from Taylor and Tula was delivered earlier today, as a less-than-subtle nudge—from Taylor, more like a shove after she reiterated her demand for the latest. At this point, she’s so invested, I fear for myself if I don’t give her something.
As Tyler and Daniello sparred in the barn earlier today—their bromance now in full swing—Taylor had grilled me in the kitchen while we helped Tula and the staff prep the dishes that were served tonight.
A formal dinner I opted out of attending after cooking all day.
Though the atmosphere in the house is much calmer now, in contrast to the forty-eight-hour whirlwind of Christmas.
The last five days have been, surprisingly, much less chaotic.
In large part due to Tyler’s daily efforts to give me a glimpse of the normal he vowed we could create together, taking the three of us on long strolls through the grounds every morning.
Lingering patiently and without expectation at my door each night after bathing and putting the babies down.
Giving me long hours of space every day to do my duties as a donna.
To sort my feelings, grieve Alonzo’s absence, and deal with the loss of Iggy, while deciding if I want more of his company.
A few of those days, I found myself knocking on his villa door.
Once inside, spending long hours talking while enjoying time with our children and being new parents.
Talks in which he finally provided more sound and context for some of my window-only views.
Regaling me with stories of the early days of the Ravens.
Surprisingly, revealing a lot of his personal history with Delphine.
Speaking freely to me, as if I’m one of his most trusted, as I, in turn, shared stories of my time at the grove.
Last night, I invited him to watch me cook.
I felt his eyes heavy on me when I stirred the sauce—my neck heating, as I recalled his confession about the night I cooked in his penthouse, meeting his blazing, hungry eyes through the steam of the boiling pot.
The space between us humming with electricity …
until our son screamed bloody murder. And Macey, for the first time, screamed too.
But even as our thirst for one another remains ever present, it’s my need to believe him, in him, and my fear of the possible consequences that keep me idle.
My hesitance is still shaky to give in to what I feel, to take him up on his every invitation, believe his spoken promises and confessions of love.
Though it’s only been eight days since he got here, so much has changed, and continues to change by the day with his openness to me.
So different from the man I fought with in those woods.
What I feel for him growing more apparent in my reflection.
A shiver running down my spine at what his reception might be to the negligée—to me.
Temptation and fear swirling as I imagine the blaze in his eyes, his touch.
The fever brewing only tempered by the knowledge that there has never been a separation between the physical and what I feel for him.
That if I do make this leap a second time, I have to be all in and trust him enough to hand myself and my heart over.
Which means risking another heartbreak. But that decision and risk now belong to a mother and can’t be so recklessly made or taken.
Alexander and Macey will absolutely be affected if I give in. And what if I do indulge in my want for him and decide I can’t forgive him enough to forget?
But haven’t I?
Though it’s becoming easier each day to summon or mute any resentment, are mere days enough?
Can I respect myself? The girl who’s watched him her whole adult life knows the core and heart of who he is, even if he remains unsure of himself.
Though it’s the man I’m discovering each day that I find myself drawn to.
Attracted to his vulnerability, quick wit, and surprising sense of humor.
One I got rare glimpses of before. Absolutely everything about who he is now appeals to me.
Especially his attentive love for our twins.
This year being the most transformative of my life, as I gaze into the altered reflection, I realize I’m staring into the eyes of the same woman who stood before me nearly a year ago.
Just as excited and terrified as she was the last time she readied herself to face her heart’s desire.
The day she clasped that cornicello necklace as her mentor declared her ready.
But am I ready now?
Now, as a mother and donna, I clasp a different necklace—not a beacon or safeguard, but a promise. A promise I’ve never believed possible for myself.
“… know right now that I’ll be the one who’s coming for you. Every. Single. Time. You’ll never have to ask that question again. You’ll never have to wonder, because that man is me.”
And another.
“You’re all I want.”
And another as my eyes threaten to burn.
“I love you, Larissa DiCicco, with all that I am.”
“Tyler,” I utter as my heart begins to pound with the truth—that no matter who Tyler Jennings is or isn’t now, I love him and will continue to love whoever he is fighting to become.
Mixed chatter sounds in the courtyard, breaking up my inner musings, growing louder outside my villa window as I slip on my robe.
It’s clear that the wine bottles we uncorked tonight have been drained, as the testosterone-infused ramblings multiply.
But it’s the company and voice of one man that I’m starting to grow anxious for.
And as if on cue, the church bell chimes on the half hour, alerting me to how quickly the new year is approaching.
The what if ramping the urge to seek him out as Macey coos from where she lies on my bed.
Walking over to her, I breathe in our beautiful little girl, taking Tyler’s cue to seek her advice myself.
“Think Mommy should give Daddy a kiss at midnight?”
She looks up at me, beautiful eyes wide, before gifting me with her first genuine smile.
Eyes stinging at the sight, I bend, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I’m going to take that as a yes.
” The burn increases as I stare down at her, knowing this ache is a longing to share these moments with him.
Unlike before, he’s no longer out of reach.
He’s here, swearing he wants them too. Wants me.
“You own me.”
Picking Macey up, I carry her over to the window and peek through the curtains, my lips lifting as I pinpoint the reason for the growing commotion.
My smile fading just as quickly as panic starts to filter in.
In seconds, I’m pulling on a sweaterdress, packing Macey in her seat, and racing out of my villa.