Page 75 of Dreadful
“Amore mio, per favore—”
“No. I won’t hear it. You’ll tell me later—”
“There…might not be…later—”
“No! Don’t talk like that—”
Sev’s large hand grips Gio’s shoulder, but neither of us dare to look away from Tony.
“Let him do this,” he murmurs.
He knows. He knows these could be Tony’s last words.
The realization burns in my chest. I hate Sever. I hate him for accepting the inevitable before I can wrap my mind around it. I hate him for his compassion and his understanding when I’m broken and angry. I hate him…and I’m grateful at the same time. If these are the last words my grandfather ever says, I want to savor them.
Gio swallows before letting Tony continue in Italian.
“You both were the best things that ever happened to me. But I don’t want to be the best thing that happens to you. You can’t survive with death always on your mind. So grieve. Weep.Feel. Let it all in…then let it all go. Promise me you’ll live after this.”
“But…Antonio,amore mio, how? How could I…without you?”
“The same…the same way you do now. Stubbornly and passionately. Live for the ones who don’t know they love you yet. Live for each other. Live for…live for me. Live for yourselves.” His mouth works to smile at me through wheezing huffs. “You’ve always liked theater. I want to see a show up there. Give me a good happy ever after,dolce nipotina.”
I nod. “I love you,nonno.”The emotion choking me won’t let me say anything else, and really, what else matters?
“Ti amo, amore mio,” Gio whispers, too.
Tony’s eyes flutter. “Vi amo, my loves.”
Gio lowers his voice so only Tony can hear, and I lean back on my heels to give them privacy while still holding Tony’s hand. Tony smiles wider at whatever Gio says, until a cough racks his body, and he droops against Gio’s chest. I squeeze his fingers tighter to let him know we’re with him. He doesn’t squeeze back.
My dying grandfather’s hand lies limp in mine. It’s the heaviest weight I’ve ever felt.
Gio begins to rock him back and forth, still murmuring his goodbyes. The tension throughout the rest of Tony’s body eases, making me realize how much he was fighting to hold on just for us. His eyes finally flutter closed.
One final breath raises his chest. Death draws it out for the last time.
Gio presses a hard, trembling kiss on his husband’s forehead. Grief racks through him, shaking him uncontrollably as he sits back and looks at me.
“T-Tallie, h-he…my love is gone.”
“Oh,Gio.” My own sob chokes in my throat, and I wrap my arm around his neck, hugging them both. Gio’s quiet cries rattle into my chest, leaving cracks I know will never fully heal.
Sever’s hand smooths over my back in gentle circles. I look behind me and see his pained eyes, as if he feels my heartache as acutely as I do. He swallows, and our eye contact breaks as his gaze returns to Tony.
I take a deep breath. It’s supposed to give me strength, but it only feels like I’m trying to breathe past the steel cage trapping me in this new nightmare. Gio rocks Tony again, and I pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder and the other holding Tony’s.
“I’m so sorry, Tony.”
They’re the words I was too cowardly to confess while he was alive. I pray he can still hear me beg for forgiveness.
“It was one of Claudio’s men, I am sure of it,” Gio spits with more venom than I’ve ever heard from him.
Sever’s hand stills on my back. “How can you be so sure?”
“Who else would do something like this?” Gio snaps.
His soft, round face is full of hard, angry lines, and his eyes are narrowed with hate. It’s shocking. I always thought of Gio as my kindred with our fiery personalities, but his fury is something I know firsthand, and I’ve only ever seen it in my own reflection. I don’t like seeing it on him.
