Epilogue
Ajla
Four Months Later
Back home we had a saying that if too many people knew about your happiness, they would somehow jinx it, so I kept my relationship with Nicolas mostly hidden from people. When I say mostly, I mean that those people important to me knew about him, but the rest—the rest didn't need to know.
My mom met him via video, and she couldn't shut up about how kind he seemed and how in love he looked, not that we had said those words yet.
They couldn't understand each other, and in a way I was almost grateful.
I don't think I was ready for her to have a full conversation with him and to share all the embarrassing moments from my childhood.
She knew he was in real estate and that he owned a company, but nothing more, and that's how it should stay.
My sister, on the other hand, already had a question I didn't know how to answer, and I hoped I would never need to.
I didn't want to have to explain that I had somehow ended up in a relationship with a Capo of the Moretti mafia, when I've spent half of my life warning her against dangerous men and what they could do to her if things went sideways.
But the only danger Nicolas possessed now was a danger to my heart, and maybe a little bit to my soul.
It's been four months since I decided to give him a chance, and I haven’t regretted it once.
I had a feeling he took my happiness seriously and he wasn't only trying to show me in words how much I meant to him, but also in actions.
He remembered small things, like which TV shows I liked, what food I loved, when I needed some time for myself, and he didn't push.
Even now as we lay in his bed, with my head on his chest and his fingers going through my hair, he understood that I sometimes needed silence to process my thoughts. And the one that kept running through my head right now was the fact that I was so in love with him it wasn't even cute anymore.
"Nico," I said, my throat still raspy from all the screaming last night and this morning.
He definitely knew the best ways to wake me up.
I pushed myself up and looked at him, practically obsessed with his freshly fucked look, and the way his eyes seemed to turn almost red in the morning sun.
"I love you," I blurted out, my eyes widening as soon as the words came out.
I sat up, covering my mouth with my hands, looking at him with equal parts embarrassment and fear. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if I said it too soon? What if I had misread the signs?
"Say it again, mia bella rovina," he practically whispered as he sat up with me, pulling my hands away from my mouth. "Please. Say it again."
"I, uh," I cleared my throat. "I love you. And it's okay if you don't love me. It's okay if you don't feel the same way, because—"
He never let me finish that sentence, effectively shutting me up with his lips on mine, his hands roaming all over my body. Devouring me, tasting me, his lips moving down my neck, all the way to my chest and back up.
"Ti amo," he said. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you," he kept repeating, smiling the entire time.
His hands engulfed my cheeks as he pressed his forehead to mine.
"I don't know when it started or how, but I am so in love with you, and I've been terrified I would scare you away if I told you too soon. "
"Since when?" I placed my hands on top of his. "Since when did you know?"
"Since our first month together. Since you treated Clara not as a broken young woman, but as someone stronger than she knew.
Since you allowed my mom to baby you even though you are old enough to be a mother yourself.
Since you held me as the nightmares attacked my mind.
Sometimes it feels like I have loved you since the moment I saw you, but I didn't want to get ahead of myself. "
I understood, because sometimes I felt that way too. My vision blurred and the tears I didn't need right now pushed through, running down my cheeks.
"No, no," he murmured, his thumbs removing the traitorous emotions rushing down my cheeks. "Don't cry."
"I'm happy," I mumbled. "I'm so happy and I was afraid I had somehow ruined what we had by blurting those words out."
He pulled me into an embrace, wrapping his arms around me, letting me cry and smile and cry some more. "I'm glad you were braver than me." His lips pressed against my hair. "And I know it might seem too soon or maybe even crazy, but I have a question for you."
I pulled back like he was on fire, hoping he wouldn't ask what I thought he might.
"Relax," he smiled. "I'm not asking you to marry me—yet," he winked. "One day though. One day when I'm sure you will say yes I'll ask, and you'll say yes."
"You sound so sure of yourself."
"I am," his eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled, and I fucking loved even that part of him. "Because you love me. Because I love you. Because I would do anything to put a smile on your face. Alas, that question isn't happening today so you can erase that look on your face."
What look? I didn't have a look, did I?
I wanted to marry him—one day. But I also wanted us to get to know each other before that next step, and I wanted to have my family here.
"I actually wanted to ask you to move in with me." My brain short-circuited. "You're already spending most of your time here and we both know you hate going back to your apartment since I'm not there."
"So cocky."
"Realistic," he pressed another kiss to my lips. "Hopeful. Unless you want me to beg."
My eyebrow arched. "Would you?"
"A Capo never begs, but for you I would. I would spend an eternity on my knees if you wanted me to, and you already know I look good on my knees." He does, and the bastard knew it.
I had no idea which version of him I loved more—the Capo Nicolas or my soft Nicolas, and I was giddy with the knowledge that he only showed that second side of himself to a select few people. I already knew the answer, but I let his question linger in the air for maybe a second too long.
I could see the worry slowly entering his eyes and before he could start overthinking, like I knew he does, I decided to put him out of his misery.
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Hell yeah!" I jumped into his arms, bringing my lips to his ear. "And one day, when you ask me to marry you, I might actually say yes."
His arms tightened around me, almost every single part of us touching, and I knew I had never felt happier.
"I fucking love you," Nicolas said, and I never wanted to tire of hearing those words. "Today. Tomorrow, when we're old and grey and probably extremely ugly, I'll love you even then."
"I love you, too," I kissed his cheek, then his nose, then his eyebrow. "And I'll love you even when we're old and I have to push you in your wheelchair around. That's how much I love you."
"Why the hell am I in a wheelchair? You're older than me."
"You. Did. Not," I stabbed him with my finger between the pecs. "That's just mean."
"I know," he brought me back, kissing my hair. "But that's why you love me." I did, among other things, and as much as I hated that first meeting we had, I somehow wouldn't change it for anything.
Well, I would probably want to erase the story of Mimi and her aquarium, but I'm pretty sure she's happier now with someone who's not changing her living situation ten times in one year. Gio took her after they cleared out Johnny's apartment, and not a day passes where I don't mock him for it.
Turns out he's just a big softie, unlike Damian. I was still trying to crack that egg and it was turning out to be more difficult than I thought. But I'll do it—one day.
My phone started vibrating on the nightstand, and as I extracted myself from a grumbling Nicolas, I saw a couple of messages coming through from my sister Hana.
"Holy shit," I said as I opened the first message. "Holy fucking shit."
Nicolas scooted closer to me, pulling me into his arms. "What's happening? Is everything okay?"
I couldn't look away from the message she had sent me and the picture of the letter she had received.
The letter from Redmont University.
Her acceptance letter.
"Hana is coming to Redmont," I mumbled, both elated and scared. "She got a scholarship for her master’s," I looked at him. "Oh my God, Nicolas. She's gonna be here. My sister is coming here and I'm happy but I'm scared."
"Hey, hey," he dragged his hands over my shoulders and then down my arms. "This is good news. She's coming here and you'll have her closer to you. You'll be able to see her often and she'll be safe. I promise you that. She'll be safe no matter what."
"But—"
"No. Nope. Don't even think about all those silly little things. Once you have all the details I'll make sure to assign Damian to her."
"Damian?" I frowned. "Really?"
"I know you think he's cold, but he's the best at his job and I would trust him with my own sisters. He was in charge of Clara;s a couple of years ago. He knows what he's doing."
I trusted his judgment, I did, but this was my baby sister. She was barely twenty-three and she was coming here, which also meant that I would have to share some of those things I've been trying to hide from her. I didn't want her to be in danger, but she needed to know.
"My sister is moving here," I finally smiled. "Oh my God, Nico!" I screamed. "My sister is moving here."
He hugged me, kissed me, showed me once again why he was the man that finally stole my heart and with this news, I was certain things would all work out. Especially if Damian looked after Hana, even if he reminded me of the Grinch most of the time.
This was perfect.
Life couldn't be better.
Thank you so much for reading Love & Other Poor Life Choices.