Page 119 of Reckless Vow

Our family might be supportive, but this would have been a bit too much for them. And society would have gossiped to no avail.

Dad would have suffered. He already did.

What’s to say it would be different this time around?

I’ll believe enough for both of us.But can I believe that the rest of the world would be happy with us? That is, if we find our own happiness. Because as we stand now, it’s all fragile and tentative.

As temporary as our marriage certificate.

And yet I hope. I hope we can overcome our trust issues. That we can grow stronger and heal each other.

That we can uncover the hidden parts of each other and make them shine. That our families will support us.

The last one scares me. Just the idea of upsetting Dad in his frail state. Maybe the idea of us is not the right one.

Maybe the timing would never work for us.

Or the geography. Wrong place, wrong time, and all of that.

Because clearly Baldo needs to be here, and I want to be with my dad as much as possible.

So can we even make it work? Would he resent me if I make him move? Would he travel so much back and forth that we’d grow apart?

And once the TV production starts, I’ll need to be in the States. I insisted on being involved as an executive producer.

Though we might resolve some of our issues as a couple, the world outside is a very different ball game.

His work. My work. Our families. So many variables where not even the two of us are a constant yet.

Depressed by all my thoughts, I try to distract myself by re-reading the last chapter I just finished.

I save the file again then email it to myself and upload it to the cloud. As always, I need to make a copy. I don’t know why I fear losing my manuscript so much, but better safe than sorry.

I rummage through my purse for my USB key, but I can’t find it. I flip through all the gazillion compartments of my computer bag.

I re-save the file again and dive into my purse one more time. Nothing.

My phone chimes with an incoming message.

Baldo

Finished in Rome, making a quick stop in Milan. I should be back by 8 pm.

I grin at the message as if it’s a love note. In his strange Baldo way, he’s giving me an update, which is significantly better than him disappearing.

I miss you too.

Three dots dance on my screen.

Baldo

There is a delivery on its way. Let me know when it arrives.

Jesus. The warmth seeping through his messages is arctic.

Not a fan of sexting then?

Baldo

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