Chapter 39
Love is Infinite
? Ends of the Earth - Lord Huron
Angelina
It’s early morning, and the traffic is light as we make our way to the Nashville airport. The first flight is mostly uneventful. Jessie sleeps on my lap for the two-and-a-half-hour leg to New York, where we have a short layover at JFK.
After a quick lunch, we board the flight to Rome.
Jessie gets restless shortly after take-off, and we pass her back and forth a few times, trying every trick in the book to get her settled.
When she gets like this, the only thing that seems to work is nursing, so I settle her on my breast until her eyelids grow heavy and her limbs go limp.
As soon as I move her, she lets out an angry wail, fat tears falling down her chubby cheeks.
I look around at the cabin, sensing eyes on me. I catch a sympathetic smile from an older woman a few rows ahead of me, but I don’t miss the dirty looks I’m getting from several other passengers.
“Let me take her,” Griffin says.
He cradles her against his chest and walks the length of the cabin and back. The movement seems to settle her, and she lays her head against his shoulder. His large palm strokes up and down her back in a soothing motion, and before long, she’s fast asleep.
“Where can I get one of those?” A feminine voice says from across the aisle to my left.
She’s about my age with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
She has a toddler beside her in the window seat, perfectly content with a coloring book and crayons on the folding tray in front of him.
“Hot and a good dad? You won the lottery, girl.”
I smile. “He’s a good one.”
She introduces herself as Krista with a K, then she proceeds to trauma dump about her ex-husband and his office manager. Before I know it, half an hour has passed, and Griffin retakes his seat, resting his head on my shoulder.
Nearly fourteen hours later, we finally land in Rome. We spend three days exploring the main tourist attractions, walking the cobblestone streets, and enjoying the incredible architecture. On our last day, we booked a tour of the Colosseum and made a wish at the Trevi Fountain.
A short train ride takes us to Naples, where we spend two days feasting on incredible food and taking in the vibrant city views.
Griffin stays behind with Jessie at the suite while I explore the ruins of Pompeii.
On my way back, I stop at a gift shop to purchase a few souvenirs from the trip.
I take my time, basking in the solitude and the feeling of finally seeing one of my biggest dreams come true.
I knew I’d get here someday, but it still feels so surreal.
On day four, we backtrack to the most important stop on our trip—Fano, Italy, where we meet up with my parents to explore the town my dad grew up in for the first thirteen years of his life before his parents immigrated to the United States.
He introduces me to the large, boisterous family that still lives in the area.
They feed us way too much food and tell incredible stories in their rich Italian accents.
Griffin struggles to keep up, but I manage to relay the more pertinent information.
By the end of the visit, he’s in the thick of it with them, laughing and smiling.
We end the day at the beach, dipping our toes in the Adriatic.
The water’s so blue it almost doesn’t look real.
Mom sits beside me as I watch Griffin walking toward the water carrying Jessie in his arms. She’s wearing the adorable swimsuit that makes her look like a strawberry. He wades into the water until he’s chest deep, then he sits down and dips her toes in.
“You look happy, Lina,” Mom says. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I lay my head on her shoulder and sigh wistfully. “Me too, Mom.”
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?”
“No. It’s so much better.”
Our final stop on the Italian leg of our European tour is the small seaside town on the Amalfi Coast that Mom and Dad call home.
They live in a sprawling three-bedroom villa on the cliffside.
You have to walk up a few flights of stairs to get there, but the views are worth it.
The houses are painted in pastel hues, stacked vertically on the mountainside overlooking the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean Sea.
I’m seated on the balcony overlooking the water with my morning coffee and a new project I started knitting on the flight over. Mom’s sitting next to me with a book in one hand and an espresso in the other. Voices drift over from the neighbors next door.
Mom leans in close and whispers, “That’s Stacia.”
I perk up as I listen more intently. It seems she’s back with Gino, and she’s telling him he has to stop seeing his mistress or she’ll leave him again. He’s less than thrilled by the ultimatum. I side-eye my mom, who covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Griffin joins us, sinking onto the chair opposite me. Dad comes out next, carrying a bright-eyed Jessie chomping on her banana teething toy. He leans down to kiss Mom on the top of her head.
“You two catching any good gossip this morning?” he asks.
The chatter instantly dies down, and a door slams shut.
She backhands him in the chest. “Not anymore. You ruined it with your big mouth.”
We don’t hear anything else from Stacia and Gino for the rest of the visit, much to my mom’s dismay.
A week into the trip, we leave my parents behind in Italy and fly to Athens.
The Acropolis and the Parthenon are more breathtaking than I imagined.
After visiting all of the ancient ruins in Italy and Greece, my world feels infinitely bigger.
It puts so much into perspective. All of it existed long before we were ever born, and whatever we leave behind will outlive us long after we’re gone.
I’ve always loved history, but seeing it in person is an experience I’ll never forget.
We do all of the recommended tourist-y things in Athens and Delphi before checking into a gorgeous resort on the island of Santorini for a three-night stay. My body is aching from all of the walking we’ve been doing, and I’m looking forward to something a little more low-key.
On the second day on the island, I wake to an empty bed and a quiet hotel room. Griffin and Jessie are nowhere to be found, but there’s a note next to the coffee maker with breakfast already laid out for me.
Good morning, Mama.
You’re scheduled for an in room massage at noon, then a hair and makeup team will be arriving. Enjoy a day of pampering. Me and my little tater tot will see you later.
Love,
Your Husband
I immediately pull out my phone and send him a text.
Me: What’s going on?
Griffin: I remembered I have free will. Enjoy your breakfast.
Me: You know I hate surprises.
Griffin: But you love me. It balances out.
Me: That’s not how it works.
Griffin: It is. I checked with Jax and he said the math checks out.
Me: You’re the worst.
Griffin: I love you, too. See you in a few hours.
I take my breakfast on the hotel balcony because, like Griffin, I too have free will.
He didn’t spare any expense when he booked our room.
It has a panoramic view of the Aegean Sea that looks like it belongs on a postcard, vibrant blue waters fading into the distant horizon until the sky blurs into the water’s edge.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think you could fall off the edge of the world if you travel far enough.
At noon on the dot, there’s a knock on the door.
A beautiful woman in a white uniform with her dark hair pulled back into a low bun sets up a massage table in the main living space of our massive suite.
What follows is an incredible deep tissue massage.
By the time she’s finished, every muscle in my body has been tended to, and I feel like I could float off on a breeze.
The hair and makeup team arrives shortly thereafter with a garment bag in tow. “Your husband sent this up for you,” one of the women says.
When I slide down the zipper, my eyes catch on a familiar white robe with feathered trim and pearls on the sheer sleeves. My wedding robe. What exactly is this man planning?
The stylist works some kind of miracle on my frizzy hair, creating long Hollywood waves that cascade over my shoulders, one side swept back off my face. The makeup is a full beat, with a neutral smoky eye, rosy cheeks, and a light peachy-pink lip. I’ve never felt more beautiful.
As the makeup artist is packing up her kit, she hands me a note on honeymoon suite paper. My husband’s got jokes, it seems.
Angel,
I know you hate surprises, but I have one more for you. Answer the door when they knock.
Love, Griff
P.S. I wanted to write a Haiku but I couldn’t work all of the details into so few syllables.
I roll my eyes. Details? What details? This tells me nothing.
The knock comes, and when I pull open the door, I’m convinced I must be hallucinating. Standing on the other side are my parents. Dad’s in a simple tan suit, and Mom’s wearing a dusty blue satin dress with a pleated tiered skirt. They look incredible.
“Lina, my love. You look stunning.” She air-kisses both my cheeks and holds my hands to look me over. “You need to change.”
“I’ll be out on the balcony,” Dad says. “Take your time.”
“Is anybody going to tell me what’s happening? What are you doing here?”
“All in good time,” she says.
Mom leads into the bedroom and disappears into the closet. When she comes back, she’s holding a silk charmeuse mermaid-style gown with a corseted bodice, thigh-high slit, and shoulder drapes. It’s unmistakable now. This is a wedding gown, and I’m the bride.
I burst into laughter at the realization, my vision turning hazy as tears gather along my lashes. At some point, my mom produces a handkerchief and dabs at my eyes.
“No crying,” she says. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”
I glance up at the ceiling and fan my face. Once I’ve regained my composure, I stare pointedly at my mother. “Tell me everything.”
“I’m not allowed. What I can tell you is that your husband is waiting for you on the upper deck, and we can’t keep the man waiting.”
Half an hour later, I emerge onto a massive deck on the cliffside with a glass railing looking out over the water. There’s a huge square arch covered in white roses. Standing underneath it is a man I don’t recognize and a man I do. Griffin.
He’s wearing a matching tan suit to my father’s, and his hair is down in loose waves around his shoulders. God, he’s beautiful.
That’s not all.
There’s a line of chairs on either side forming a center aisle, each one occupied by someone with the last name Hayes.
Evelyn and Russell, Olivia and Wilder, Callie and Jaxon, and all of the kids are here.
Caroline and Shawn are seated in the front row, too, and the latter has Jessie perched on her lap wearing an adorable white chiffon tutu dress with puff sleeves.
There’s only one person missing, but I know she’d be standing at the altar as my maid of honor if she could.
Butterflies take up residence in my stomach as I stare at my husband waiting for me at the end of the short walk to the edge of the cliffside. Our love feels infinite—an inevitability that neither of us could’ve fought. Still, I would’ve chosen him anyway if it meant we’d end up here.
My chin quivers, and I blow out a quick breath to stop the overwhelming emotions from spilling out of me.
Mom kisses my cheek and strides down the aisle to take her seat at the front beside Caroline, and my dad slides my hand into the crook of his arm.
“Been waiting a lifetime for the chance to walk you down the aisle, stella mia. Are you ready?” His eyes are glassy, but he doesn’t waver.
My throat tightens, and it’s all I can do to nod.
Griffin
She’s fucking breathtaking.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t Cry.
When she takes the first step, I lose the battle.