35. Theá
Chapter thirty-five
Theá
“H ow did you even pull all this off in less than forty-eight hours?” I ask as we get into a sleek, black car that collects us from the airport.
Antonio shrugs as he pulls his phone out. I can see the screen littered with notifications, but he closes out of all of them before turning his phone off. “You can get a lot done when you have money. Everything has a price, unfortunately.”
“Even you?”
“We both know the answer to that,” he says calmly before he rests his head back on the seat.
I use the opportunity to check my notifications, as well.
The Behind The Scenes group chat has more than ninety-nine notifications, which seems to revolve around Natalia and her manager arguing again and Sel complaining about Gus, all of which Valerie is navigating beautifully, so I refrain from butting in.
It’s the next name with over twenty notifications that catches my eye.
Eleanor:
Where are you?
I tried calling, and your phone went straight to voicemail.
Also, why is your find my iPhone location off?
Are you okay?
Hello?
Do I need to call your dad?
If you don’t reply by tonight, I’m heading to the manor. Text me so I know you’re okay.
It’s probably an empty threat because I doubt she’d drive to the manor just to tell my father I’m not texting her back. But it’s enough of a threat that I reply.
Me:
I’m fine, just busy.
Please leave Gabriel out of this, he’s got enough to worry about.
Eleanor:
Girl? Just fine? What is going on?
Your location being turned off is so weird.
I contemplate lying, but she’s my best friend, and I know lying will just end badly.
Me:
Antonio surprised me with a last-minute trip to Paris as a late honeymoon.
Eleanor:
Honeymoon? Ooohh, so things are getting serious between you two.
I told you, you’d end up liking him.
Me:
I guess you were right.
Eleanor:
I’m always right, haha.
Enjoy the trip and send pictures!
“We’re here,” Antonio says as the car comes to a stop. As I look out the window, the Seine River comes into view.
My door opens a few seconds later, and Antonio extends his hand towards me.
“What are we doing?” I ask as I step out.
“This is Port de la Conférence. We’re going on a little private dinner cruise along the Seine.” He throws an arm around my shoulder as he guides me towards a private yacht.
“Dinner? Didn’t you want to head to where we’re staying and change first?” I furrow my brows as I look at how casual both our outfits are. We’re both in sweat pants and hoodies, far from the ideal dress attire for a private dinner on a luxury yacht.
“No, I think you look perfect just like this,” he says as he helps me board the yacht.
Heat floods my cheeks. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea that he likes and accepts me in my most natural state—one where I don’t have to put on a show or try excessively hard. One where I can just be myself.
“ Bonsoir , Mr. and Mrs. Vitale, a pleasure to have you on board. Please accept this complimentary champagne. Dinner will begin momentarily. Please feel free to explore the yacht in the interim,” a young man says as he holds out a tray with two glasses.
Antonio takes both before handing me one. “Thank you,” he says, then guides me off to the back of the yacht.
We stand, sipping the delicious bubbly liquid, as we watch the port slowly drift further and further away. It feels almost symbolic, like that’s our reality floating away as Antonio and I get lost in our little world.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, pulling me into his side.
“This might be the first time we’ve really been alone, without any prying eyes, and it just feels a little weird,” I say, looking up at him.
His soft, warm-beige skin looks sun kissed due to all of the sun we’ve been getting lately, and it enhances all of his usually strong facial features. But it’s his glasses that truly highlights them as they rest against his defined cheekbones.
“Good weird or bad weird?” He looks down at me, his eyes drinking me in.
I’ve never liked eye contact until I looked into Antonio’s eyes; something about the colour and the depth of his stare when he’s regarding me always renders me speechless.
“Good weird. Like there’s no pressure to be a certain way. We can just be us.”
“I like us.”
“I like us, too.” He smiles, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my lips. It’s exactly that: soft without the need to be anything more.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vitale, dinner is ready. Please follow me.” A voice breaks the kiss, and Antonio gestures for me to follow the man.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing anyone call you that. Mrs. Vitale,” he whispers in my ear as we walk through the hallway to another part of the boat. Soft, plush seats surround a dinner table, perfectly decorated, overlooking the river and the most gorgeous sunset ever.
“These are for you,” Antonio says, and I spin around to find him holding a bouquet of yellow marigolds and lavender flowers.
“Oh my word.” I’m rendered speechless as I take the stunning flowers that smell even better than they look. “Thank you.”
“It’s our favourite colours, so I thought they would work well together, like us.”
Like us.
If I could melt into a puddle on the floor, I would. Something about the man in front of me has me feeling every single emotion under the sun right now.
“They’re perfect.” I smile and take a seat.
The first course comes out, and we fall into a comfortable silence as we eat with the occasional small talk.
It feels so calm, so relaxing.
After we get through the main course, I take a second to just stare out at the still water where the sun is slowly dipping beyond the horizon, casting beautiful shades of orange across the sky and city.
Closing my eyes, I let the sound of the water and city consume me. It’s soft and oddly so natural, not a single thing out of place.
“It’s beautiful,” Antonio whispers next to me.
When I open my eyes, the sight I see is even better than the sunset. Antonio’s face is golden and glowing. His curls are a mess and the softest smile rests on his lips. It’s a heavenly sight, and it’s one I wish I could frame in a museum. Except on the other hand, I’m selfish, and I want no one else to experience this but me.
“So beautiful.” I sigh. His eyes fall to mine, and they seem the most relaxed I’ve ever seen them. “Do you think it’s better than an Italian sunset?”
He scoffs, and a sly grin creeping onto his lips. “You’ve never seen a Tevici sunset, especially not from my bedroom.”
“One day,” I say.
“Soon. One day soon,” he says.
His words hang in the air. So sure and full of confidence that I want to believe him. Every fibre in me wants to cling to those words and discard every other belief I have. But the nagging voice in my head won’t let me.
I try to stifle it back as dessert comes out and the yacht starts heading back to the port.
“What’s your favourite part of Tevici?” I ask. I’ve heard of the small island and its large history, especially the way it’s recently put itself on the map for being the Vitale city.
“Honestly, there are so many parts of it I love. I love our family home, especially our backyard where we have family dinners. I love the beach and the promenade where Ambrose and I jog. I love Giovanni’s and their sandwiches and espresso. It’s impossible to choose, especially when I miss home so much.” He clears his throat at the end of the sentence.
“How long has it been since you were home?” I ask.
For me, being away from home is a dream come true. But for someone as family orientated as Antonio, I can only imagine how difficult it must be.
“Just under a year. Our wedding was the closest thing I’ve had to being home, since home came to me.” He chuckles.
“I brought your home to you, and you got me away from mine. I think it’s a fair trade.” I offer him a lopsided smile since the mood isn’t exactly a happy one.
“You’ve become home,” he says so plainly, but when panic flashes through his eyes, I realise he probably didn’t mean to voice that thought.
“You’re the closest thing to home I’ve known for a long time, especially since my mom died. You’re the first person to stand up for me or to put what I want before what you do.”
He bites his lip, and it looks as if he’s fighting himself not to say something. The yacht comes to a stop, and it draws his attention away as he rubs a hand on his pants legs.
“Next surprise,” he says, motioning his head in the direction. Suddenly in view is the Eiffel Tower. During our conversation, I didn’t even realise the yacht was stopping in a different port.
“Come on, we have to hurry,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to jog off the boat.
I’m a giggling mess as I try to keep up with his long strides as we race towards the tower, swerving through the locals who are strolling and staring at us as if we’ve lost our minds.
If only the media got a glimpse of this side of Antonio, the headlines would paint a very different picture. One less cold, less stoic. They’d tell the story of the hilarious, gorgeous, bubbly man I see when I look at him.
We’re both gasping for air by the time we arrive in front of the tower, and perfectly on cue, Antonio whips his phone out and points it at me just as the lights go on.
I spin around stunned by its beauty, thousands of lights flashing and twinkling.
“This is amazing,” I say, looking back at him with a broad smile. He’s staring at me through his phone, not even looking at the tower.
Just then, the sky cracks open and small drops of rain start falling. Antonio drops his phone, looks up to the sky, and chuckles.
“Come on, we should get inside,” I say, tugging on his hoodie sleeve as all the people around us start rushing off to find shelter.
“Just wait a minute,” he says, pulling me closer. His curls slowly flop into his eye as they become weighed down from the rain. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He smiles broadly before cupping my cheeks and connecting our lips.
It’s slow and controlled, the way his lips move in perfect rhythm with mine. When his tongue swipes across my bottom lip, I completely forget about the rain or Paris; I forget about everything but Antonio Vitale.
I let him consume me and draw me in. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he smiles into the kiss. Next he’s chuckling and spinning me around in a circle.
“You are perfect, absolutely perfect.” He kisses me again. “Let’s get inside before you get sick,” he says. We rush over to some nearby restaurants that provide shelter over the sidewalks.
He’s laughing, and I mean really laughing. One that sounds like it comes from his belly. It’s one of the most beautiful sounds. He looks so attractive, even dripping wet.
For a moment I pull my gaze away from him, and that’s when I spot it. Right across the road is the restaurant. It still looks the same. The view of it alone has me frozen in place, and every single memory rips through me.
“Hey, are you okay?” Antonio places a hand on my shoulder before turning to look in the same direction as me. “Theá?”
“That was the restaurant where it happened.” It doesn’t even sound like my voice. It sounds far away and all too raspy. So raspy I don’t even know how I manage to speak. “This is where they killed my mom.”