Chapter 25
Rosa
“R osa, wait.”
I pause on the stairs, head still turned resolutely away, willing him to get it over with and let me go so I can cry in peace.
He touches my elbow, and it takes everything in me not to flinch away.
Not because I don’t want him to touch me, but because I want it too much.
Like Uncle Geno said, I’d better get used to doing this on my own.
“Please.” Jake’s voice is low, rough, and I give in.
I turn, swiping under my eyes in a futile attempt to get rid of the evidence before he looks too closely.
It’s a losing battle. His lips tighten, and he brushes his thumb across my cheekbone, finishing the job for me.
“He doesn’t deserve your tears,” he says fiercely, and I almost break down again.
Almost. Instead I suck in a deep breath, fist my hands on my hips, and look at him. “I know. But sometimes they just happen anyway.”
His hand drops back down, and he tilts his head, looking at me. “You were magnificent, by the way.”
“Why?” I laugh, the sound a little watery. “Because I basically told my uncle to fuck off? In front of an audience?”
“Well, that’s part of it.” He smiles and takes a step closer. “Mostly because for the first time, you claimed Caparelli with your whole heart. No hesitation. It was beautiful to see.”
I heave in a breath and let it whoosh out, feeling the truth of his words. And in that moment, I realize—I’m proud of what I did, too.
I sit down on the bottom step of the stairs and look up at Jake. If it’s a day for confronting the hard conversations, might as well go all in.
I ask the question that’s been buzzing around in my head since he first told me we’re still married. “Why?”
He looks down at me. “Why what?”
“Why didn’t you turn in the paperwork?”
He shrugs. “You wouldn’t talk to me.”
The stiletto between my ribs twists just a little. “Uncle Geno…”
“The Rosa I knew wouldn’t let Uncle Geno come between us.” He sits next to me and bumps my shoulder with his. “When it came down to it, I wasn’t ready to believe you wanted the annulment just because Geno said you did. I wanted to hear it from you.”
“I believed him,” I say in a small voice. “I believed you wanted the annulment, because he said you did. And I believed him when he said I owed it to the family, to Nonna, to do what was right. To make it right after everything I did wrong.”
“Rosa.” He puts a finger under my chin and turns my head until I look him in the eye. “You’ve paid penance for this long enough. Yes, we were stupid kids. Yes, we shouldn’t have lied. But in the long run, who did we really hurt except ourselves?”
“Nonna’s heart attack…”
He interrupts. “Which would have happened whether you were home or not. You were eighteen, Rosa, and as far as I know you didn’t have a medical license at the time.”
I laugh through the tears I didn’t even realize were falling again. “Still don’t,” I tell him.
“And she lived another nine and a half years,” he reminds me. “So what’s the real issue?”
I pause. “They needed me.”
“Well, so did I.”
I close my eyes. He’s pressing at every painful memory, opening them up and shifting them just enough for me to realize I’d seen them from a different angle.
Maybe one that wasn’t quite correct.
“I let down the family,” I whisper. “I was foolish and reckless and thoughtless.”
“You were eighteen and in love.” His voice is flat. “At least I was in love. I assume you were as well.”
“You know I was.”
“And it makes me so damn angry to think of you cowering here in Oak Creek Canyon for the past ten years, feeling like you had to make up for…for what? For doing something for yourself for once?”
“I wasn’t cowering,” I mumble, but he keeps right on.
“All these years, I wondered what Geno had on you to make you do what he demanded. But now it makes sense. The biggest guilt trip in the history of the universe.”
Was it? I felt guilty, of course. For running off and getting married so young, without family input or support. For being gone when Nonna had her heart attack. I’d always been her rock, the dependable grandchild. There for everything. But when she really needed me—when my sisters needed me, too—I was nowhere to be found.
And Uncle Geno was only looking out for me, right?
I think back, remembering how he encouraged me to go to community college so we can keep an eye on you . How I didn’t need an internship away from home, since I’d be working for Belmonte anyway. How he piled on the menial busywork at Belmonte but never let me explore other options. And always, hovering over it all like the smoke from a wildfire in the hills, was the disapproval and disappointment.
I spent ten years trying to make it up to him, never quite reaching the mark.
But maybe that was the point.
Maybe the goal all along was to keep me in line, prevent me from leaving the fold.
Once Uncle Geno finished lecturing me that day about all the ways I’d failed the family, I believed I had no choice but to do what he said. My foolish, impulsive actions had harmed my sisters, my grandmother, my family. I had to make it right.
But by following Uncle Geno’s orders, by falling into line, I hurt Jake.
And I hurt myself.
Hell, I spent the last ten years blaming myself—and Jake—for everything bad that happened since then. If I’d been less impulsive. If I’d thought things through.
But what would have changed? If I had been on the grad trip instead of eloping to Vegas, I would have been gone when everything happened anyway. Would it all have been my fault then, too?
Nonna still would have gotten sick. My sisters still would have been alone.
I still would have been an eighteen-year-old struggling with the weight of family obligations and expectations on my shoulders.
“I couldn’t have prevented any of it from happening,” I say, opening my eyes but not really seeing anything. “It wasn’t my fault.”
Jake pulls me into a rough hug, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs into my ear.
I shiver as his breath brushes my earlobe. His warmth surrounds me, chasing away the ice inside. I pull back and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“No thanks necessary,” he says, his large hand stroking my back in soothing circles. “This was probably a long time coming.”
Ten years and two weeks, to be exact. And while I’m sitting here on the stairs making peace with what was done to me back then, I haven’t yet made amends for what I did to Jake.
“I should have talked to you.” I look down. “I was a coward, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I can’t quite hold back my flinch.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Rosa, and I won’t sugarcoat it. I didn’t deserve that.” He pauses. “But neither did you.”
The tears are flowing steadily now, and I brush them away impatiently. “Be honest—I deserved it a little bit.”
“No.” He pulls back and takes both my hands in his. “You didn’t. No matter how much your overactive sense of responsibility tries to pin it on you.”
I hiccup a laugh, then sigh again. “I’ve felt guilty for a really long time now.”
“Well, it’s time to stop.” Then he slants a look at me. “Unless you’re feeling guilty for breaking my heart. That’d be okay.”
“Yours wasn’t the only one,” I say quietly. There’s a long pause. “I really am sorry.”
“So am I.” At my questioning look, he adds, “For running away. For staying away. The fact that we didn’t have this conversation sometime in the past ten years is as much my fault as it is yours. Even if I didn’t recognize that until recently.”
“God, we’re a pair of fools, aren’t we?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he says.
I laugh a little. “Good to know.”
We sit quietly on the steps, both of us lost in our own thoughts for a little while. Then something else occurs to me. “Okay, I get why you didn’t file the annulment back then. But why not anytime since? Didn’t it…” I swallow, clear my throat. “Tie you down?”
He shrugs and looks down. “Well. I haven’t been a saint.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. I don’t feel betrayed or cheated on or anything. Our marriage has just been on paper for the past ten years.
“But.” He turns and looks me in the eye. “The truth is I never met anyone else I wanted to take that step with.”
That is…a lot. I blow out a breath, then another thought occurs to me.
“What if I had met someone I wanted to take that step with ?” I glare at him. “I could have been a bigamist!”
His cheeks color. “I, uh, may have been keeping tabs? From a distance?” At my raised eyebrow, he clarifies. “My mom likes to talk. Especially about the neighbors, including my ‘darling ex-girlfriend,’” he says, making air quotes. “If you had gotten even slightly serious about anyone, I would have made sure you were free and clear. I promise.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
We sit quietly for another moment, then he sighs and leans back, elbows on the step behind us. “I’m glad we finally talked about it,” he says. “It’s nice to get some closure, you know?”
I swallow, hard, the reminder of his limited time left in Oak Creek Canyon like a cold, wet towel dropping onto my head. “Yeah,” I chirp. “Very nice.”
He squeezes my shoulder and stands, starting to gather up the remnants of our impromptu post-hailstorm party.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion sweeps over me, and I lean back on the stairs, my eyes closing.
His voice comes from across the room. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”
My heart clenches in my chest. I don’t know how to answer that.
Finally, I just hum a noncommittal answer and push myself up off the step. “Tired,” I mumble as I help him collect the dishes and carry them into the kitchen.
He nods, putting the mugs in the sink. “Long day.”
When the room is set to rights—sort of—we head to the stairs once more, Jake locking the front door as he walks by. We’re quiet, but it’s not awkward.
I could get used to this.
I know I shouldn’t.
When we reach the landing, we both turn in the direction of my room. I stop, placing a hand on his chest. “Jake, I don’t think?—”
“Just to sleep.” He places his hand over mine, linking our fingers together. He lifts it to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “I’d just like to hold you tonight, if that’s okay.”
I nod, afraid if I open my mouth I’ll start to cry. Again. Hand in hand, we walk down the hall. When we get to my room I reach for the light switch with my free hand, but Jake shakes his head. “The moon’s enough light for me,” he says.
He’s not wrong. The sky is clear now, the storm clouds having disappeared over the past several hours, and bright beams of moonlight filter in through the curtains behind my bed. I strip off my clothes, pulling on the sleep set from under my pillow as Jake goes to brush his teeth. He kisses my forehead, his breath minty fresh, as we trade places.
When I’m done in the bathroom, I return to my room to find Jake under the covers, a hint of bare chest showing. A pulse of heat arrows through me, but exhaustion wins out. I crawl under the covers with him, snuggling into his side, his arm wrapping around me.
“Sleep well, Mrs. Wright,” he whispers, and I pinch his side. He laughs softly and wraps me up in his arms.
“You, too, Mr. Martinelli.”
He presses a kiss to my shoulder and chuckles. “Touché,” he says.
I close my eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
I wake up early, the sun starting to peek through the curtains. I’m warm and cozy and wrapped up in my comforter like a weighted blanket.
Except it’s not a weighted blanket. It’s Jake, one arm slung over my waist, his knee tucked between my legs. I’m the little spoon, and everywhere he touches me, I’m on fire.
I have a vague memory of being wrapped up like this the night we made love, but when I woke up that morning, Jake was already gone, working in the fields early.
Today he’s still here.
His breathing is slow and steady, the warm puffs of his breath against the back of my neck sending a shiver down my spine. I move a little, experimentally, and he sighs in his sleep, tugging me closer. I feel relaxed. Protected.
Cherished.
My body wants to snuggle in closer, but my mind is ringing alarm bells at high volume. I try to pull away again, but he just wraps his arm around my waist a little tighter. My ass snugs up against him, his morning wood noticeable.
I’m torn. On the one hand, the more time I spend with Jake, the more likely my heart will be broken. Again.
On the other hand, would it really be so wrong to enjoy what little time we do have together before he leaves? Again?
I chew on my lip, trying to decide what to do. Stay? Go? Fake a head injury and pretend I have no idea how we ended up here?
“Stop thinking so loudly,” Jake grumbles against my shoulder, one hand tugging me closer. “It’s too early for ethical dilemmas.”
My breath hitches. “Why do you assume I’m having an ethical dilemma?”
He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You forget I know you better than anyone. You live for ethical dilemmas.”
He’s not wrong, but at the same time, he’s not totally right, either. “Knew me,” I correct him.
“Hmm?”
“You knew me better than anyone. But that was ten years ago. I’m not the same girl I was then.”
“You’re not a girl at all.” His broad palm strokes down my side, coming to rest on my hip. “You’re a woman. And I, for one, am damn glad about that.”
My lips curve into a smile, my eyes closed. “You’re not half bad yourself,” I tease.
“Gee, thanks,” he deadpans, but his voice is fond.
I snuggle back into his embrace, enjoying being the little spoon. I can feel his erection between my ass cheeks, and I bite my lip to hold back a moan.
Yeah, he’s going to leave. But right now, he’s here. And I’m here. And we’re technically still married, so…
Why not enjoy the time we have, while we have it?
For so long, I’ve lived my life doing for others. Now I’d like to do something for me.
Hand trembling, I roll over and press my palm against his cheek. “Jake.”
His eyes sharpen. He places his hand over mine and turns his head to kiss my palm. “Rosa.” His eyes are shining in the early-morning light, and my heart squeezes.
“Yes.” It’s an unspoken question, but I’m answering it anyway. Yes, Jake. Yes, I want you.
Yes.
Screw my alarm bells. I’ve got limited time with this man, so I might as well make the most of it.
I don’t even care about our combined morning breath or the sheet lines I’m sure I have on my face or the doubts that keep tiptoeing into my brain.
Our hands drop away from his face, and we lie there, facing each other. I turn my palm in his and lace our fingers together.
His eyes heat, and his free hand slides up my back, tangling in the hair at the base of my neck.
He leans down and kisses me, and I…
I kiss him back.