34. Isabella
34
ISABELLA
G ianni brings the car to a stop on the side of the road closest to my parents’ tombstones. They sit about a hundred feet away with trees surrounding them. Gianni goes to open his door, but I speak as soon as his hand hits the handle.
“You don’t have to get out, Gianni.”
He glances back at me from over his shoulder. “It’s my job to keep you safe, Izzy. Your brother reminds me of that every single day.”
I take a quick look around the empty cemetery. “Unless you think a ghost is going to harm me, I’d say I’ll be all right on my own.”
Gianni hesitates but doesn’t move his hand from the handle.
“Please, Gianni. I’d really like to have a moment to myself with my parents.”
He lets out a sigh and reluctantly pulls his hand away from the handle while keeping his gaze fixed on mine. “Fine, but I’ll be right here if you need me, watching you.”
I give him a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a bit.”
After throwing on my coat and grabbing the two bouquets of fresh flowers, I make my way to the tombstones that still have remnants of this morning’s rainfall on them. Small droplets of water pool at the indent of my parents’ names.
“ Buongiorno , Mom. Buongiorno , Dad,” I say before placing a bouquet at the base of each of their tombstones. “I know it’s been a little bit since I was last here. I meant to stop by after my birthday dinner, but time seemed to escape me that night.” Nicco’s face flashes in my mind before I quickly try to bury it, focusing on my time with my parents.
“I miss you both every day.” The sharp sting behind my eyes starts up at that statement. “More than you could ever know.”
I update my parents on what’s been going on with our family. How Teo is now married and has taken over Angelo Mancini’s territory.
“I have a confession to make, Dad. And Mom, I could really use your advice.”
It seems insane to be speaking to my parents’ tombstones, but I need some clarity when it comes to Nicco. I need to speak these words out to someone who won’t necessarily have a response.
My mom never told my dad about Nicco and me, and I’ll always be grateful that she kept our secret when we asked, but it still hurts knowing we kept that information from him. Telling him now might be insane, but there’s something therapeutic about it.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my cashmere coat, shielding them from the crisp fall morning. “I never told you, Dad, but in college, I dated someone. Nicco Silvestri. He was the love of my life, but that took a sharp turn one night when he broke up with me.”
I tell the story of how Nicco and I broke up and how his reentry into my life has caused my emotions and my mind to be all over the place.
“I just don’t know what to do. He hurt me. He really hurt me. How can I forgive him for not doing the one thing all relationships are based on?” Communicating.
I chuckle softly to myself, realization dawning on me. “Not that it matters. Even if I could forgive Nicco for what he did, we could never be together. Not when his family is responsible for your deaths.”
The anger I’ve harbored for Nicco has eaten away at me. I could let it go, forgive him, and move on with my life, but what if it doesn’t end there? What if I forgive him and all of those feelings of hate quickly turn back into the feelings I felt for him once before?
I crane my neck, looking up to the cloudy sky, and take a deep breath. “Please tell me what to do. Just give me a sign, because I feel so lost right now.”
A slight breeze picks up, and I silently laugh at myself for thinking I’d be able to find any clarity here.
So stupid.
I’m about to say my goodbyes and go back to the car when the snap of a broken twig captures my attention. My senses suddenly heighten, and I avert my gaze in the direction.
“It’s just me,” says the intruder, and I let out a breath of relief when I see Nicco standing a few feet away by the large spruce tree, holding a bouquet of pink flowers. My favorite.
“What—” I glance over my shoulder, back to where Gianni is waiting by the car, and notice he’s talking to someone.
Dante.
“Dante distracted him while Leo dropped me off over there,” Nicco says, pointing to the road behind him where a blacked-out SUV is parked. “And don’t worry, Gianni can’t see me from where he is.” He taps his hand on the massive tree trunk.
“So you’re just going to stand there behind the tree this entire time?” I cock a brow at him.
“If it means I can be with you without causing a scene, then yes.”
I fold my arms over my chest and let out a frustrated sigh. “I told you now wasn’t a good time to talk, Nicco.”
“And I said I just want to be here with you.”
I narrow my gaze on his but don’t have a rebuttal.
“Face forward again, back to your parents’ tombstones before Gianni catches on to me hiding over here.”
I peek over my shoulder once more and find Gianni watching me, but no Dante in sight anymore.
Where did he go?
Gianni glances at me before getting back in the car, and I let out a breath of relief at knowing he suspects nothing. I bring my attention back to my parents’ gravesite and fold my arms in front of my chest.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I say.
“Why not?” Nicco says.
I tighten the hold I have around my body, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. “You could get caught,” I whisper, and I already feel those feelings of hate slowly transforming into something they shouldn’t.
Nicco chuckles, reminding me how the deep velvety sound used to always bring me comfort. “So, you do still care about me.”
“I don’t want you dead, Nicco. I just want you away from me,” I say, but I can’t help the small smirk that forms on my face.
He releases another low chuckle and says, “We both know that’s not true, Isabella.”
We stand there in silence for a few moments before I say, “Who’re the flowers for?”
“I seem to remember they’re a certain someone’s favorite.”
“I’m surprised you remember that little detail.”
“I remember every single thing about you, Isabella.”
I angle my head so I’m able to see Nicco out of my peripheral vision while still facing my parents’ gravesite. “And how do you suspect I can get those without making it obvious that someone’s over here to Gianni?”
“When you’re ready to leave, I’ll put them on the ground. Pick them up and walk back to your car. Gianni will ask about them, you can tell him whatever you’d like, but by then, it won’t matter because I’ll have done exactly what I came here to do. Be with you.”
I snap my gaze to his, knowing Gianni might question what I’m doing if he sees me talking but not caring; I need to look at Nicco. Look into his eyes when he says things like that.
Seeing him standing there in dark jeans, brown boots, and a black wool peacoat, with the bouquet of beautiful pink roses, does something to me. It’s no secret that pink’s my favorite color, but there’s something about the soft hues of pink roses. They’re so innocently beautiful, and seeing Nicco with them does something to my heart.
“I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been,” he says. His tone is soft but unwavering, and his eyes shine bright with regret. “If I could go back in time and figure out a way to alter the future so none of this happened, I would, Isabella.”
My heart beats so hard in my chest, and tears threaten to spill, but I keep quiet, my gaze never leaving Nicco’s.
“I might’ve not been there for you back then, but I promise to always be there for you moving forward. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I just need you to know that I love you, Isabella. I always have and I always will.”
“Izzy!” Gianni barks out from behind me, snapping me out of the moment with Nicco.
I frantically spin on my heel and find him walking around the car and staring at me.
“Shit,” I mutter, knowing he can’t find me here with Nicco.
“I’ll call you later,” Nicco says, and before I’m able to respond, he adds, “I’m sorry.”
I freeze.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your parents on the anniversary of their deaths. I’m sorry for everything. I just wanted to be here for you, Isabella.”
I don’t respond in fear that it’ll bring up more questions and suspicions to Gianni. His hands are in his pocket, and he’s eyeing me from the car. I can tell he’s about to make his way over to me, so I take a deep breath and walk back toward him, keeping my movements as normal as possible.
“Everything okay?” he asks as he opens the back passenger door.
I give him a small nod before getting into the car and say, “I guess. You’d think as time goes on it would get easier for me to come here.”
He studies me for a moment as if he’s trying to read through my bullshit, but fortunately for me, it’s not a lie. It’s still tough to see my parents’ names on those tombstones, it just wasn’t the only thing that threw me off today.
Gianni gives me a small nod and says, “Of course. I’m sorry, Izzy” before shutting my door.
I stare out the window at the spruce tree I know Nicco is still standing behind. If I didn’t know, I would have no idea he was there.
Gianni starts driving off, thankfully following the road in the opposite direction of the tree, and I can’t help but think about Nicco’s words and what they’re doing to me.
One moment I was standing at my parents’ gravesite asking for a sign as to what I should do about Nicco, and the next he was there, saying the words I’ve missed so much.
I love you.
I asked for a sign, then Nicco showed up. And now I’m thinking that was the sign.