Page 26 of Offside Rule

“I’m sorry for that, ma’am,” Xavier said, not able to look her in the eyes.

A small burst of laughter escaped me, and my mother winked at me for a split second before putting her mask back on.

“My question is, what are your intentions with my daughter?”

He cleared his throat, side-eyeing me. “I don’t think she's ready to hear it.”

I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest. “What does that mean?”

“Yeah, what does that mean?” Giulia repeated after me.

“It means you're not ready to hear it.”

“Iam, so you can tell me,” my mother pushed him harder.

Xavier swallowed, placing his hands on the table. “My intentions with your daughter are very serious, Ms. Esposito.”

“Elaborate.”

“It’s not a short-term thing,” Xavier continued, clearly not comfortable saying more.

“Elaborate,” she went on.

“Mamma, enough. He doesn't want to talk about it,” I said as I reached out to her across the table.

“I do,” she continued. “Go on.”

Xavier sucked in a deep breath. “I want to get to a point where I wake up next to her every day, where I become a fatherly presence for Giulia, where she’s always there when I play agame, where she’ll say ‘yes’ at the altar.” He rushed the words out, as if they had lingered in the back of his head for ages.

He scooted closer to the table, locking eyes with my mother. “Look, this is not by any means how I wanted this to happen. I wanted to talk to you first, and then slowly introduce myself into Giulia’s life—with Arianna’s permission—and I didn’t want to rush anything, because we have a whole life ahead of us. I’m happy with moving at Arianna’s pace—as long as she’s with me.”

The room fell quiet, and my breath caught in my throat. He had never expressed his feelings about me so clearly, without holding back.

Suddenly, I forgot why he was at the table with my family. All I cared about was one thing.

Was he serious about everything he’d said?

Had he really meant all of that?

A sharp breath passed my lips, and my mother immediately noticed. It was an involuntary reaction to the realization of what he’d meant.

He had described … marriage.

I knew he wasn’t asking to marry me—at least not right now—but still, it meant he was thinking about it for the future.

Was I ready for marriage? Again? Was I ready to relive so many happy moments, with the possibility of losing them in the blink of an eye?

If I were to guess, I’d say no. But then, a couple of months ago, I had been certain I was never going to bring a man into this house. And yet, I had almost begged Xavier to come. I let him visit me. I let him have my body, and endless nights talking on the phone.

He’d said we had a life ahead of us, but experience had convinced me that it wasn’t true.

My mother snuck a palm under the table and placed it over mine, squeezing tightly.

“Good,” she finally said. “Eat,” she demanded, pointing at his full plate.

Xavier complied, and all I could do was watch him. His long lashes fell over his cheeks, his hair looked like he had just walked out of a storm, and his muscles flexed under his T-shirt. I realized that his presence at our kitchen table made the view seem complete. He looked like he belonged.

“Mamma,” Giulia said quietly as she grabbed my hand. I looked down at her, breaking from my daze. “What’s an altar?”

---