Page 71 of Little Stolen Memories

Giovanni stood and walked over to the bar cart. He browsed the various options on the shelf and then grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a double shot, took a sip, and returned to his seat, bottle in hand.

For a time, he didn’t say a word, leading me to believe he had something on his mind. Whenever there was something serious to discuss, I’d noticed he’d hesitate at first, as if trying to figure out the right words to say.

Given any length of silence between two people made me anxious, I said, “Is there something you’d like to talk to me about?”

He turned toward me, smiling as he said, “You have a lot going on with the case. What I have to say can wait until after the investigation is over.”

The care and consideration he’d always shown for my needs meant a lot to me. But at the moment, I needed to know what was on his mind.

“If there’s something you want to talk to me about, let’s talk about it,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. When we got together, we agreed we wouldn’t keep things from each other.”

“I am not keeping anything from you.”

“I’m not saying you are,” I said. “You’re just not telling me what’s on your mind. Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

“It’s all right. I don’t feel it’s the right time. Let’s wait until your mind is not occupied with other things.”

Now I was even more curious.

And not just curious—worried.

What wasn’t he telling me?

“I can’t go to bed tonight knowing there’s something you want to discuss with me. I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

He reached over, pulling me next to him.

As he met my gaze, he said, “Your needs are far more important to me than my own. They always have been.”

He was still hesitating.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Please. Whatever it is … let it out.”

He wrapped his arms around me and said, “I proposed to you because I want us to be married.”

“I know.”

“Ever since my proposal, you haven’t mentioned anything to me about our wedding. We haven’t discussed when we should get married, or where, or even what kind of wedding you’d like to have. I feel it’s important to ask … Do you still want to get married?”

His question shocked me.

“Of course, I do,” I said.

“It seems to me like you’re holding back. Why haven’t we started planning our future together?”

“We are planning our future. We’re living it, right here, right now.”

“Not as man and wife.”

Since his proposal, I hadn’t talked about the wedding. I supposed I thought we were in no rush because I wasn’t in one. Reflecting on what he’d just said, I thought about the seriousness of the tone in his voice. Cementing plans for our future and choosing a date meant more to him than I’d realized. He’d been patient, waiting all this time for me to say something—anything—and I had said nothing.

“I’m sorry, Giovanni,” I said. “I should have discussed it with you. Instead, I allowed life and all its complications to get in the way of us. I never meant to give you a reason to question my commitment to you. I am committed. You mean everything to me.”

He kissed me on the forehead. “I want more than anything to be your husband.”

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