Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Present Day
“Καλημ?ρα, Eli,” Katerina greeted me from her top-floor window as she hung out her laundry on the line she shared with the house opposite. I smiled up at her.
“Καλημ?ρα, Katerina. Another beautiful day,” I replied in Greek.
When I first arrived on the island, my language skills were rusty.
I hadn’t used Greek for a few years, but that was one good thing about being a mafia heir.
As a child, I had been forced to learn as many languages as I could, and I was grateful for it because it didn’t take me long to pick it up again.
Strolling down streets too narrow for cars, I breathed in the smell of baked bread drifting from the bakery and nodded at all my neighbours sitting outside their open front doors, watching the sun rise.
The town was small enough that nothing happened quickly or loudly.
There was an unspoken promise of peace among the locals, and they protected each other as much as their own.
After I left America, bandaged and with a new name, I’d travelled for a few weeks, searching for a place that felt right.
A place where I could envision starting again.
And the moment I set foot on this little island, I knew I’d found it.
Perfection wasn’t expected here. Politeness was. Kindness. Acceptance. Things I’d never had much of in my previous life. The houses weren’t luxurious or symmetrical, and the people weren’t rich, but they were happy, rich in the beauty of a simple life.
I took my usual table outside the only taverna. Its owner didn’t even bother with a sign above the door. Everyone knew who owned it and what time it opened, and that’s all that mattered. Thalia placed my Ellinikós kafés on the table with a smile.
“Sweet Greek coffee for the sweetest man on the island,” she said, flicking her fingers from under her chin, and I laughed. If only she knew what life this sweet man had been living a few months ago.
“Thank you, Thalia. Seeing your face every morning always makes my day better.”
She swooned and flicked her dishcloth at me. “Are you still waiting for your mystery man, or can I give my nephew your number yet?”
I smiled. “Still waiting.”
She rolled her eyes and smirked, then walked away.
I lifted the small cup and took a slow, savouring sip as I stared out at the sea.
The sea here set the pace of the day. I enjoyed watching the boats leave early in the morning and return in the afternoon, their nets full of fish, the men laughing and joking in friendly competition.
I often offered to help carry their catches to the beach, where they cleaned the fish on the stone tables before bringing their first batch to this taverna.
They sat down to have a drink together before continuing with their day.
Everyone here was so friendly and welcoming to newcomers.
They’d asked briefly where I was from, then quickly forgot, as it didn’t matter to them.
They never interrogated me about my past. What mattered more was whether I would stick around through the winter and what I was willing to bring to the place.
I liked to keep busy, so I’d quickly made myself useful wherever I could.
I helped in the taverna during busy hours and unloaded supplies for Manolis, since the old man couldn’t lift a crate with his back problems. I’d find a proper job eventually, but for now, this suited me fine.
This new life of mine gave me plenty of time to reflect.
To think about who I was and who I wanted to be.
My past had been full of lessons I hadn’t asked for and moments I could never have expected.
Some days, I couldn't even believe what I'd lived through.
When the world slowed around me and I was forced to look within, I realised how many different versions of myself I had known.
On my darkest days, the world had felt too much.
I’d hated myself. Other days, there was just enough light to carry me through.
Some of those versions I was proud of; others I’d like to keep buried in that shallow grave back in New York.
But all of them were lessons I wasn’t meant to forget.
Healing wasn’t about forgetting. It was about accepting your past, your pain, and your struggles, but not letting them define you.
The point was, I was still here. Still standing.
And more myself than I had ever felt. I was ready to build a life that meant something to me.
I knew I was on the right path. There was only one thing missing.
Or two, to be exact. Would he come? Would he leave behind the only life he’d ever known to start a new one with me?
He’d said he’d wanted it, but wanting something and doing something weren’t the same thing.
I’d had no contact with him since I’d left him in that hotel room.
He might hate me. He might want nothing to do with me.
I might be sitting at this little table, in this little taverna, in this little town, waiting for him every day for the rest of my life.
I knew I would. I wouldn’t ever leave because I’d sent that postcard.
He knew where to find me. And one day, he might come.
I drank the last of my coffee and headed towards Manolis’s shop.
Bending down to stroke his cat, curled up in the only patch of shade, I pushed open the door and strolled inside, greeting Manolis.
His family had run this little place for decades.
After grabbing some essential groceries, I headed to the till, placing the basket on the counter as Manolis and I chatted easily about when his next delivery was so I could come back and help.
“Ah, Eli!” Anna, Manolis’ wife, came bustling around the corner aisle. “He came!”
I froze, my hand outstretched, holding the cash over the till. Her eyes were wide and excited as she flapped her arms, but I couldn’t move.
“Who came?”
“Your love! The man you have been waiting for. He had a picture of you and came in about half an hour ago, asking if we knew you.”
Hope rose in my chest, causing my heart to thunder against my ribs.
“He had a sweet little girl with him.”
My eyes widened. A jolt of something like adrenaline made me jump forward and grab her by the arms. “Where did he go?”
“I told him you were probably down at the beach, helping with the boats.”
I grabbed her face and kissed her quickly, making her giggle.
I raced out of the shop and sprinted down the narrow streets lined with whitewashed houses until the beach came into view.
The beach wasn’t anything special, just soft, pale sand, smooth stones, and water so clear at midday that you could see the fish swimming between your ankles.
I knew Neri would love that. As well as how many children there were always playing in the sand or racing each other barefoot through the village.
I frantically searched every child’s face on the beach, jumping the waves and squealing as they raced away from the tide. But I couldn’t see her. Or Finn.
I turned in every direction, panting heavily even though I’d barely run far. My body was vibrating, shaking with an intense need to find their faces, to stare into those dark brown eyes once more. I felt like I was going to faint.
“Anyone know where we can get ice cream around here?”
My hand slammed over my mouth when I heard his deep voice. He’d spoken in Italian, and I closed my eyes at the familiarity of it as I bent over and grabbed my knees to keep myself from falling to them.
“With sprinkles?” Neri asked next, and just hearing her adorable little voice broke me. I spun around, tears in my eyes, and saw them both standing there. Finn in a pair of jeans, a casual T-shirt and a baseball cap, and Neri in a white dress with unicorns all over it.
Our eyes locked, and he smiled. A smile that said a thousand words.
I scooped Neri up with one arm and grabbed him with the other, pulling them both into me.
Their arms wrapped around my back, and they rested their heads on my shoulders, Finn burying his nose in the crook of my neck and inhaling.
Suddenly, the world felt right. They were here. They had come.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered, holding them both even tighter. “I can’t believe you’re both here.”
“Where else would we be?” Finn mumbled into my neck. “Our home is wherever you are.”
“Can I go and play on the beach now?” Neri asked, watching the children with eagerness, more excited by the sandcastle being built.
Finn and I chuckled as we broke apart, and I put her down.
“Go on then. Stay where I can see you,” Finn said, and she let out a squeal, racing over to a group of children busy making patterns with the stones in the sand. I smiled, seeing how easily she fit in here and knowing how much she’d love it.
I faced Finn again and stared. He grabbed my face in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine.
“You’re a crazy, stubborn motherfucker, Enzo Aiani. What were you thinking, getting yourself killed for me? For us? You fucking idiot. You’re lucky I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I whimpered as his lips brushed mine, then kissed me with all the need and longing I’d felt for weeks.
I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his back as our lips moved together, tongues chasing every lost moment.
I forced us apart to check on Neri, then grabbed his hand and tugged him over to a rock for us to sit on.
“You look…” His gaze ran over my casual white T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, and he smirked. “Really fucking good.”