Chapter 19 #4
When I glance up at Angelo, I can see that he isn’t as certain, and something about that breaks my heart.
The Vitales shielded me from a lot during those years Romeo was gone.
Everyone would give me vague updates, leaving out the darkest details.
But I heard bits and pieces of them over that time period.
The discussions about his inability to regulate his emotions.
The hushed whispers about his suicide attempts.
I remember feeling like someone had ripped my still-beating heart from my chest when I heard that he’d hurt himself.
And I know what it did to his parents. I saw the light leave his mother’s eyes, and I’ll never forget her gut-wrenching sobs.
They were the external manifestation of how I felt inside.
The entire family was grieving something none of us could really understand, and when he returned, they walked around like they were waiting for him to detonate at any moment. There was no guidebook for what happened to Romeo. None of us knew how to help, and it was an awful feeling.
I knew he’d had explosive outbursts. I’d heard about the times it took all of his brothers to hold him down. But not once, in the entire time I’ve known him, have I ever questioned if he was capable of physically hurting me.
“Romeo.” Angelo reaches out slowly, trying to separate us like he’s approaching a wounded animal.
Romeo’s gaze blackens as it drifts to his brother’s encroaching hand, and I can see this careening out of control.
“Don’t!” I tell him. “Just wait a minute.”
To my surprise, Angelo actually listens to me. But when I reach up to touch Romeo’s face, he takes a step closer.
Ignoring him, I press my fingers to Romeo’s jaw.
“Gabi—” Angelo warns me.
A quiet sound vibrates in my throat, barely audible at first, the ghost of a memory that pulls me back to another time and place.
As the melody fills the space between us, I know I’m no longer there alone.
Romeo turns his head slowly, his eyes settling on mine as a rough exhalation shudders from his chest. I hum the tune to "I Miss You" by Blink182, the same way he used to do for me.
When the world gets to be too much, Gabi, press your fingers to the back of my hand. I’ll be your anchor.
It wasn’t a platitude. He was there through every overwhelm and every storm for the most formative years of my life.
He’d find a way to bring me back when the world got to be too much.
Whether it was drawing something for me to focus on, pressing my fingers to his heartbeat, or humming this tune until I fell into rhythm right beside him.
He was my shelter.
And right now, by some small miracle, I’ve become his.
He closes his eyes and starts to hum along until we’re in harmony, and every second that passes slows his breathing and calms his racing heart.
When the song ends, his grip on me loosens, and a different kind of tension settles over him as he searches my eyes.
“Welcome back,” I whisper.
It’s what he always used to say to me. It feels right in the moment.
He looks me over, concern flashing in his eyes as his hands fall away and he takes a step back. It isn’t just Angelo who thought he might accidentally hurt me. Romeo believes it, too.
“Everything’s okay,” Angelo tells him. “Go smoke a blunt. Take a few minutes, then join us for dinner if you want.”
Romeo gives me one last glance, and for a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of the boy I used to know. The quiet, introverted, artsy soul who made the world a safer place for me. And now I can see, he’s still in there somewhere, buried beneath all the barbed wire armor he’s been donning for years.
There will always be a part of me that’s bound to that part of him.
It’s impossible to forget how powerful that connection was, and it would be easy to let myself get pulled back in.
But the glaring warning bells going off inside me are a reminder that Romeo also holds the power to destroy me.
I survived it once, but I can’t do it again.
His behavior today was strange, but it doesn’t mean anything.
Even if it did, I can’t go back down that road.
I’ve barely managed to pick up the pieces of my pulverized heart and glue them back together.
Handing it over to him again would be a suicide mission.
I have to remember that and keep my guard up at all costs.
As I watch him retreat, the emotional overload catches up with me. Beppe comes skittering over, pawing at my leg until I pick him up and let him comfort me.
“You got through to him,” Angelo murmurs, his voice rough with disbelief.
I offer him a watery smile. “He used to do the same for me.”
Angelo scrapes a hand over his jaw and shakes his head. “Here we were trying to brace for a storm, and you knew how to harness it all along.”
“I only know because he taught me. I get what it’s like to feel too much all at once. Everyone treats it like it’s a bomb that needs to be defused. But sometimes all you need is someone to stand with you in the storm until it passes.”
A moment of silence stretches between us as regret lingers in Angelo’s eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
Someone knocks on the door before it creaks open, and Abella pokes her head inside. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” Angelo gestures her inside, kissing her on the top of her head when she reaches him. “Thanks to Gabi.”
Abella offers me a knowing smile, like she never doubted it would be alright. “Everyone’s at the table. Why don’t you go ahead, and I’ll talk to Gabs for a minute.”
Angelo nods, giving her one last squeeze before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
“Are you really okay?” she asks.
“I am,” I assure her. “All of that was just…unexpected.”
Sadness shadows her features. “You two have a lot of history.”
I consider shrugging it off, but I saw things through a different lens for the first time in nine years. And even though I shouldn’t, I feel like I need to acknowledge it.
“Was he trying to protect me?” My voice softens. “Is that why he told me to stay away?”
“I can’t tell you for sure.” Abella releases a long breath. “But if you want my opinion, I think so.”
I nod through my tears, slowly coming to terms with that reality. In some ways, it changes everything, but it fixes nothing.
All the pain and anger feel softer when it’s wrapped in understanding.
But it doesn’t alter our circumstances. It’s been too long, and too much has happened.
In less than a year, I’ll be married to Riccardo, and I can’t live with my head in the clouds dreaming of any other reality—with either Eros or Romeo.
“You want to talk about something else?” Abella suggests.
I remember I’ve been meaning to ask her for an update, and now would be a good time since we’re alone.
“Have you heard anything else about Romeo’s research on Imperium?”
“Not yet.” She sighs. “He said he’d let me know when he finds something.”
“Okay. Hopefully we’ll hear something soon.”
“We’ll get it figured out.” Abella smiles. “But right now I’m starving, and Nonna made enough food for an entire village. So we better get out there and eat it.”
“Alright.” I steel myself, mentally preparing to face Riccardo. “Let’s go then.”