Chapter 4
Chapter Four
FALLON
All I Ever Wanted
With no destination in mind, our footsteps are slow as we stroll in comfortable silence under the vibrant Venetian sky through St. Mark’s Square.
Tourists cram into every available inch, their faces full of wonderment as they take in the sights of the centuries-old facades gilded by the golden glow of sunlight.
The air carries the scent of seawater from the nearby canals, but it’s no match for the jasmine of Elizabeth’s hair.
Having her so close…I can’t breathe, nor can I take my eyes off her. The pictures Ry would send me never prepared me for how shattered I would feel once I finally saw her in person. She’s completely entrancing and more gorgeous than I remember.
I made a vow to stay away, to never let my darkness touch her again.
But I can’t keep that vow anymore because of the promise I made to Ryder the last time I saw him—two days before he passed.
He told me I would know when it was time.
I laughed at him. But he was right. And now I’m here, and she’s here, and I can’t fucking breathe.
A young kid, maybe three or four, escapes his parents’ distracted supervision and chases a group of pigeons, startling them to take flight.
“Oh, no.” Elizabeth hunkers next to me and ducks her head, her cheeks flushing when I arch a querying eyebrow. “Do you remember the pigeon shit story?”
I chuckle at the memory. “I completely forgot about that.”
“Whoever came up with the bullshit story about it being good luck has never had the pleasure of cleaning pigeon crap out of their hair.”
We’ve hardly said a word since the café, which is funny because there is so much to say. Hopefully, I’ll get the next forty to fifty years to tell her everything.
I curl a blonde lock around my finger and let it uncoil. “No more pink streaks?”
“Not since medical school.” Elizabeth stops amid the crowd gathered on the Ponte della Paglia and looks across the short distance to the Bridge of Sighs.
“Legend says that couples who kiss under the bridge as the St. Mark’s Campanile bells ring will have a love that lasts for an eternity.
I should know. Ryder kissed me in the gondola just as the bells tolled. ”
She smiles up at me, the beauty of it sad and haunting.
Ry should be here with her, enjoying this moment.
Not me. I will never be worthy enough to fill his shoes, but I will make damn sure that I erase the emptiness in her eyes.
I would make a deal with the devil five times over—sacrifice everything—to ensure she knows nothing but happiness for the rest of her life.
The sudden ache in my chest that I’ve been carrying for two decades intensifies, and regret pulses through my veins like a poison I can’t escape.
I miss Ry every damn day. If I could go back and take his place, I would do it in a heartbeat, just to see him alive and laughing again, living the life he was supposed to with Elizabeth.
One that was stolen from him far too soon.
The guilt that I’m still here and he isn’t eats at me, dragging me under in moments when I least expect it.
I jolt when she gently touches my face and brings my gaze back to her. “Where have you been?”
“Around.”
She gives me the most adorable eye roll. She used to do that all the time. How can she look exactly the same as I remember?
“I know that. I want to hear everything. All the places you saw. The people you met. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.”
Her praise and the way she always saw good in me, even when it didn’t exist, shoots happiness straight into my blackened heart.
“Beware the devil that disguises itself as an angel of light.” It’s an old Bible verse.
One Elizabeth never did heed. But that’s the problem with angels and devils.
Angels see good in the darkness, while devils lurk in the shadows, waiting for the chance to steal something pure and corrupt it.
By the time the devil realizes what’s happening, it’s too late because the angel he took was already carving her name into his soul.
Elizabeth bumps my shoulder. “Since you seem to be tongue-tied, I’ll give you something easy. What was your favorite place you visited?”
I thoughtfully consider her question, wanting to give her something real. Wanting her to see the man I’ve become because of her.
“Africa.”
“Why?”
“The people, for one. The diversity of their cultures and their deep connection to their communities and land. Africa also has the most gorgeous sunsets. The sun looks three times larger as it rises and sets. And the land is breathtaking. Everywhere you look is beauty. It was humbling. Before she got married, I took Harper on a safari, but she did more painting than sightseeing.”
Harper is one of my half sisters. I don’t get to see her as often since she and her husband moved to Texas to be closer to our other brother, Jordan.
“I bought one of her paintings. It’s hanging in the guest room.”
“I know. She wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. You were the first person to buy something from her gallery. Enough about me. Tell me about your children.”
I already know everything about Christopher, Marcus, and Charlotte. Just because Elizabeth hasn’t seen me these past twenty years doesn’t mean that I haven’t been around.
Just as I had hoped, she lights up at the mention of her kids.
Taking out her phone from her skirt pocket, I lean in closer when she proudly shows me a picture of them standing with Julien and Elijah’s sons.
The greenish Atlantic waters and white sandy beach provide a perfect backdrop to the happy image of the five friends.
“Marcus and Christopher are spitting images of Ryder. Marcus is running the garage now. Christopher just turned seventeen, and Charlotte is my baby girl.” Her voice wavers as she touches the screen and enlarges the picture before continuing.
“Marcus has Ryder’s amber eyes. Christopher’s are green like mine.
Charlotte has my blonde hair and Ryder’s smile, but her eyes are the most striking.
Green circled with a ring of copper. The other two boys are Grant and Nicholas, Julien’s sons.
Grant and Charlotte started dating a few months ago, and … I’m rambling. I’ll shut up now.”
Elizabeth looks up at me, a tender smile exploding across her face, and it’s almost my undoing.
Goddamn you, Ry. She deserves better. What the hell were you thinking?
“Your children are beautiful, Kitten.”
Putting her phone away, she peers down at the water below as tourists jostle by us, snapping pictures and talking excitedly.
The melancholy from before returns on her face.
It’s the same expression she wore as I silently watched her at the café, and it shrouds her like a suffocating blanket, extinguishing the joy she just had when talking about her children.
“I have so much to tell you. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You can tell me tonight over dinner.”
Her head whips up, hope and surprise comingling. “You’re staying?”
I know I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, but damn if I don’t jump into the fire anyway.
And god help anyone who tries to take her away from me again.