Page 73 of The Devil's Den

“Matteo,” I choke out on my tears.

“Come here,” he calls, his hand reaching for mine.

And slowly, I go. Because with him, I’ve always been home. Ms. Greco would’ve wanted me to forgive him. She wouldn’t have wanted us to be apart. I have to let my anger go. For her. For me. For us. It’s the only way to survive.

I can still miss her, hate Agnelo for this, because it is ultimately his fault, and I can stop holding Matteo accountable. He did what he thought he had to, and I probably would’ve done the same.

I cut through the distance between us, jumping into his arms. A sob crawls out of my throat, and my palms clasp his face, my eyes staring into the man who’s loved me even while he shouldn’t. Tenderly, I lower my lips to his and I kiss him, testing the water, seeing if I could paint over what’s been done to me.

He groans, his mouth desperate, craving, his hand riding up my spine, fisting my hair as his mouth fits over mine so perfectly as though we’ve been created for one another.

But then it comes. The men. I see them. Feel them. I yank back with a frantic gasp, my chin trembling.

His breathing labors as he pulls away just a fraction, clutching the back of my neck in the wide span of his palm. “Fuck, I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything.” He pins his forehead to mine, and together we stay that way as seconds drift by until he speaks again. “I love you, Aida. I know what I took from you, and for that I’m sorry. I truly am.”

“I know you are,” I breathe, tears trailing my voice. “I’m sorry too. I blamed you for it all and that wasn’t right. My anger should’ve been directed at him, not you.”

“Swear you’ll never leave me again.” His words strain with desperation and I hate that I did that. With everything he’s been through, I despise being the source of more of his anguish.

“I swear it.” I cup his cheek, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Never again.”

He drags in a long inhale, his eyes shutting, an arm twining around my lower back and he tugs me close. Chest to chest, we sit together for however long, I don’t know, but it’s been a while since I’ve been so at peace.

With him, I seem to always find the hope of forever lying beneath the ruins.

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Uno!” Robby shouts as we play in the basement with Matteo. It’s a game Ms. Greco had left behind. Playing it, knowing it was hers, makes me feel closer to her somehow.

“Yay! I win!” Robby jumps up, pumping a fist in the air.

“How the heck are you always winning?” Matteo asks playfully. “You cheating? Are you hiding cards back there?” He gets up, scooping him up and checking his hands while Robby giggles.

“I’m just better than you,” Robby quirks back, while I watch them with my heart ready to explode. Is this what it feels like to have a family? To love them so much, you’ll die for them? Because I’d die for both of them.

“Hey, you at least won one round,” I sass. “I have won no games at all.” I pout and Robby and Matteo both look at me.

“She’s really bad at this game, isn’t she?” Matteo asks Robby, who nods with a laugh.

“Wow, guys, way to gang up on me. Remember who cooks your meals. I can very well make you eat spinach for dinner.”

Matteo makes a gagging face while Robby imitates. “I think we gotta let her win now, Robby.”

“Yeah, we’ll let you win, Aida. I promise.” Robby grips me in a tight hug.

“Well, now I suddenly feel a whole lot better.” My arms circle him and I hold him even closer.

“I always have fun with you.”

“I always have the best time with you too.” With a whip of pain across my heart, I realize, he’s not my brother anymore. I stifle a cry. I can’t believe I haven’t realized that until now. In all this time, I blocked it out. And though we don’t need blood to be family, it still makes me sad. I seem to be losing everyone one way or another.

“You okay, Aida?” Matteo narrows his gaze, and I nod, fighting the encroaching tears.

“I’ll be okay. Some days are just harder than others.”

While I still hold on to Robby, Matteo finds my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my fingers. “It’s okay not to be okay. We’ll make it through it. Together.” He places my palm against his heart, then hooks our pinkies together. “Pinky swear.”

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