28. Elysa
TWENTY-EIGHT
Elysa
W hen I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the sunlight streaming through the curtains, painting lazy patterns of gold across the bed.
The second thing I noticed was Dante lying beside me, his dark hair mussed and his chest rising and falling with the kind of deep, untroubled breaths that only came with sleep.
For a moment, I stayed still, staring at him, worried the spell would break if I moved.
He looked so different like this—so unguarded, so human.
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up next to him, to have his warmth beside me and the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the sheets.
Last night had been…
magic , the kind that I thought didn’t exist anymore.
I had wondered if I’d regret asking him to stay the night.
The morning was here, and I didn’t regret anything .
My stomach did a little flip, half excitement, half nerves, as the events of the night before replayed in my mind.
Playing tourist.
The Vespa ride home.
The way he’d kissed me, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to memorize me.
Me asking him to come back and be with me.
It had been perfect.
Not just because of the way his hands had moved over me or the way he whispered my name like it was sacred, but because, for the first time in forever, I hadn’t felt like we were holding anything back.
There was no armor, no barriers—just us .
But now, in the light of day, that old, familiar fear was creeping in, wrapping itself around my heart like a vice.
I’d spent my whole life being discarded—by my mother, by my father, by Dante.
What if this was just a temporary moment of connection?
What if I let myself believe in him, only to find myself broken again?
I rolled onto my back, pulling the sheet up over my breasts, trying to quiet my thoughts.
As I did, Dante stirred beside me, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes blinked open.
“ Buongiorno, amore .” His voice still rough with sleep.
“ Buongiorno ,” I replied, my tone quieter, more tentative than I intended.
“Why are you all the way over there?”
I turned my head to look at him.
His lips curved into a slow, lazy smile—the kind that used to make my heart skip a beat.
“I’m right here.”
“Not close enough.” He reached for me, tugging me back toward him, and I let out a surprised laugh as I found myself pressed against his side, my head resting on his chest.
“You’re ridiculous,” I chided, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
“Ridiculous or not, this is nice.” His hand slid lazily up and down my back.
“I’ve missed this.”
I hesitated, my fingers twisting in the sheet as I tried to ignore the pang of doubt that shot through me.
“Dante…”
He tilted his head to look down at me, his expression softening.
“What is it?”
He said we had to communicate, and I needed to tell him how I was feeling, so he could respond and I wouldn’t go off on a tangent imagining his response.
I shook my head, forcing a smile.
“Nothing. It’s just…this feels so normal, you know? Like no time has passed, like we’re right back where we started.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone careful.
“No,” I assured him quickly.
“It’s not bad. It’s just…scary.”
He frowned, his hand stilling on my back.
“Why scary?”
I swallowed, unsure how to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside me.
“Because…because what if…what if you go back to being that Dante.”
He was silent for a moment, and I wondered if I’d said too much if I’d ruined whatever fragile thing we were trying to build.
But then he shifted and rolled me underneath him.
“I know I hurt you.” He looked into my eyes, making sure I could see what he was saying, both with his words and his soul.
“But it’s not happening again. Never on purpose.”
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to.
But a lifetime of being let down had left its scars, and I wasn’t sure if I could let them heal.
“What if you change your mind?” I asked, my words barely above a whisper.
“What if one day you wake up and decide I’m not enough?”
His hand moved to my chin, tilting my face up so I was looking at him.
“Elysa, you are the love of my life. I can’t ever see that changing.”
I searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt or hesitation, but all I saw was sincerity.
“And if you don’t believe me yet,” he continued, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “then I guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
I bit my lower lip.
“I do believe you…it’s me that I don’t…I don’t think I’m worthy.”
“ Mi amore , you’re a force to be reckoned with. I’m a very lucky man to call you wife.”
I let out a soft laugh, though it was tinged with uncertainty.
“That’s a big statement to make, Signor Giordano.”
“I’m a big statement kind of guy because of my big cock.” He smirked and kissed my nose.
I rolled my eyes, but the tension in me eased a little.
Dante could be infuriating, arrogant, and entirely too charming for his own good, but right now, at this moment, he was my man, and he was making me feel better.
He wasn’t ridiculing my feelings or my insecurities.
Instead, he was coddling me, telling me that no matter what, he was going to be there.
The sound of his stomach growling broke the moment, and I laughed, pushing myself up onto my elbows.
“I think someone’s hungry.”
“I can’t help it.” He feigned exhaustion.
“You wore me out.”
I smacked his shoulder, and he laughed, catching my wrist and pulling me back down.
“Stay,” he insisted, his tone suddenly serious again.
“Let’s just stay here for a little while longer.”
I stopped thinking.
I stayed.
We made love again.
This time, it was soft and sweet.
Beautiful and fun.
Charming and lovely.
If I hadn’t already been in love with Dante, this would have been the moment that sealed it.