Page 698 of The Tempted

“You married a criminal, baby, that shit don’t fade,” he whispers, pressing his lips to mine fleetingly. “And while I’m not proud of it, I’m not sure I know how to be an upstanding citizen.” He lets out a breathy laugh before glancing around the gym. “I mean is this it?”

Cocking my head to the side, I wrap my arms around his neck and absorb his words. I understood that. The uncertainty of who you are. I feel it all the time and never voice it.

“I feel like a fucking pussy for even saying this,” he admits, before leveling me with a stare. “I love you. I love our kids and the life we made and I don’t want you to ever doubt that. You are everything I ever wanted and I have no regrets. Not a single one.”

“I get it,” I whisper, reaching up to thread my fingers through his black hair. “And I think what you’re feeling is as natural as breathing. You’re happy with your life but if you’re not a husband and father, who are you? I ask myself that every day, I just never thought enough to tell you. I ask myself, who am I, if I’m not Victor Pasture’s daughter, Anthony Bianci’s wife and Luca and Victoria’s mom. I mean, I don’t even have a job. I’m Adrianna Bianci, wife and mother, but then what?”

“And that’s not enough?”

“It is now, but will it always be?” I question.

I thought saying those words made me selfish. There are people who wish for my life, who want nothing more than to find their one true love, marry that person and raise a family. And here I am hoping the happy ending I wanted so badly will be enough for me. But the more I think about it, and think about what Anthony is saying, the more I realize I’m not being selfish, I’m being human.

“Who would’ve thought once we had it all we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves?” he asks, chuckling slightly as he pulls my head against his bare chest. “You know what?”

“Hmm?” I murmur against his skin, tracing our children’s names with my index finger.

“We have all the time in the world to figure out what we both want out of this life. We’ll figure it out and we’ll do it together,” he promises. “You and me, Reese’s, we’ll get it. We always do.”

“I know that,” I whisper, pulling back a little. “I want you to promise me you won’t shut me out. I want you to remember I know this life just as well as you and that I’ve lived it too. I might not miss it the same way you do but I will always understand it. Remember we both chose our life over that one, and when you’re missing the soldier in you, then you come to me and I’ll remind you why that soldier surrendered.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, running his hands down my back. “How you going to remind me?”

His fingers toy with the hem of my tank top, inching it up my body as I voluntarily lifted my arms over my head, inviting him to remove my shirt.

“Leave that to me, Bianci.” I wink at him. “I promise to always keep it fresh,” I add, as he stands and pulls the shirt over my head. His eyes dip to my full chest that threatens to burst out of the sports bra I’m wearing.

“Promise me,” I whisper as his eyes find mine.

“I promise you, Reese’s,” he hisses, bending down as he slides his palms under my ass and lifts me off the bench. “Now, give me that mouth of yours,” he demands as I wrap my legs around his waist. “And let me at you.”

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