Page 57 of Nine Years Gone

“Those are good friends to have.”

“Yeah, Stevie is one of the good ones. When Luci visited me the first time, they hit it off and bonded over their love for calling me out on my bullshit.” I smile at the thought of my friends.

Massimo’s eyes turn up at my words. “I like doing that too.”

He leans in just inches from my face and whispers, “Lena, you have no idea how much I missed you. No fucking clue.” His left hand moves up. I again notice the absence of a wedding ring.

I want to ask him about it. Need to know whether he’s married, especially since we were intimate last week. Thoughts of him and the mother of his boys have haunted me all week—wondering if I am intruding on a relationship, taking what isn’t mine, stealing from another woman. Last week at the wake, I saw her with their boys, and she’s gorgeous. When I recognized who she was, my heart twisted, and jealousy erupted inside of me.

I know if I ask him now, he’ll think I’m deflecting and doing everything I can to avoid having the one conversation he’s been waiting nine years to have. I swallow my need to ask until I tell him why I left. He brushes the back of his fingers across my cheek, my eyes fluttering at his touch.

“I looked for you for a year. Every day I hoped you would come back to me, but you never did.” Agony is in his voice as he recounts the pain I caused him.

“I’m sorry. And I know those words may not mean much, do very little to ease the heartache I caused you, but I want you to know, I made the decision because I thought it was best for you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you ghosting me was the best decision for me.” His head shakes in unison with his words.

Massimo’s thumb rubs back and forth across my beauty mark as he speaks to me, his attempt at relaxing me. Back in the day, he would always use touch to soften me, to draw me into him, and tear down my walls. He knew how to manipulate me with his hands, my puppeteer.

“Do you remember when you proposed to me?” I ask.

“How can I forget? Easter hasn’t been the same since.”

Ten Years Ago

Easter dinner is at Massimo’s parents’ house, and we invited my parents to join us. It’ll be the first time both families will be together to celebrate a holiday. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. Massimo’s mom asked me to make myMami’s flan. I had made it for her the first time I went to their house to meet them, and it was a hit.

My parents arrived not too long after us. My mom madearroz con habichuelasto accompany the lamb that Massimo’s mother was making, as it was their tradition to eat lamb on Easter. We have traditional Puerto Rican food,pernil,arroz,yuca, and potato salad at my house during the holidays. This year would be different for them, which made me a little nervous because they’re kinda old school and stuck in their ways.

We gather around the dinner table—my parents, his parents, and his siblings. His father asks Massimo to say a prayer before dinner.

Massimo rises from the table, moving his chair back, and stands in the empty space before kneeling.

“Lena.” He takes my hand. For a moment, I’m confused until I see he has a small box in his hand. My eyes widen, mouth agape, heart racing.

“That first day I sat at your bar, I knew you were my girl. You’re the woman who has opened my heart in a way I never imagined was possible. You’re on my mind from the moment I wake up until the moment I fall asleep and in my dreams each night. When we were at Gina’s wedding, I knew I would marry you, that you would be mine. I want you to be Mrs. Massimo DeLorenzo and my life partner. I want you to be the mother of my children because we’ll create the most beautiful little humans together. Will you be my Mrs.?” He opens up the box, inside a beautiful Asscher-cut diamond on a thin white gold diamond-encrusted band.

Tears stream down my face, and I have to remove my glasses. I swipe my fingers underneath each eye to wipe away the wetness and try to compose myself because I’m blubbering from emotions.

I nod. “The answer is always yes!”

He slides the ring on my finger and kisses me, deeply and passionately, there in front of our parents. I blush and pull away, nervous at everyone looking at us. When I look up at our family, joy fills the room. My mother is crying, a grin spread across her face and leaning into my father, who’s smiling at me—his eyes wet at the creases.

Stella rises from her seat. “Get up. I want to hug my new sister,” she says. When I do, she embraces me tightly. “I’m finally getting the sister I always wanted. I’m happy! For you, for Massimo, for us. I knew I loved you the minute he brought you home.”

“Love you too, Stella.” I pull back from her, and we’re both crying happy tears.

“I cannot wait to help you plan this wedding! Ahh, I’m wicked excited!” Stella is ecstatic. She and Massimo are tight, and because of their close relationship, my relationship with her has grown into one of friendship.

My parents both stand from their seats and come over to us. “Nena,que alegría. I’m so happy for you,” my mother says, hugging me.

“Gracias, Mami.”

“You know, Massimonos pidió permisobefore asking you. He wanted to make surequewe approved,” my father adds, looking between Massimo and me.

“He did?” I ask, glimpsing at Massimo. My heart is exploding with happiness knowing that he sought out my parents’ blessing to marry him.

That night when we return home, Massimo starts talking about wedding plans and babies. “I cannot wait until you’re pregnant with our child. Other than you being my wife, it’s what I want most in the world, to make babies with the woman who makes me feel alive.”

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