Page 88 of Till Death Do Us Part

“Oh shit!” I stopped short when a motorbike jumped the curb and came to a stop right in front of me. I was about to go off on the driver when he lifted his helmet.

“Get on, Dino.” He held out a black leather riding jacket.

It was the first time I'd seen Felice since we arrived in Italy. He looked fine as hell straddling the sleek Ducati. He wore a leather jacket, a tight white T-shirt underneath, dark jeans, and black boots.

Even though I had my reservations, I couldn't stop myself from taking the jacket and getting on. It was a tight fit. The pillion seat didn’t really feel like a seat at all. My ass stuck out. He had an extra helmet hanging from the handlebar, and he handed it to me. I slipped it on and wrapped my arms around him.

He revved the engine and took off, weaving in and out of traffic, until the city dissolved into the countryside, and he really hit the throttle. We were going so fast, it almost seemed like we were flying. I held on to him even tighter as we made turns and the wind whipped against us, taking any sense of time with it.

He turned onto a long drive, Mediterranean cypress trees lining the path upward. He slowed when the land opened up and we came to a golden villa with wooden teal-green shutters.

Felice parked and helped me off. I removed the helmet and jacket, handing it back to him. While he removed his and set them back on the bike, I sent a text to Talia telling her to go back without me. Felice would drop me later. He was no longer a secret, so I didn’t need to lie.

I smiled when I noticed Felice’s hair. It was sticking up all over the place. Mine must have been too because he tamed it down with his hands. Then he pulled me in for a kiss. It went on for so long I had to pull away, or I wouldn’t have enough oxygen to keep going. He always kissed me like we were about to say goodbye.

If I would have known that was his intention, it would have made me anxious, but I always got the feeling it meant the opposite. He just kissed me with the intensity of whatever he felt for me.

“You’re not staying too far away,” I said when I could catch my breath.

He took me in, like he was seeing me for the first time in months. “If you’re not next to me, you might as well be on Venus.”

I nodded and looked away. I needed more time to catch my breath, and I couldn’t when he was looking at me that way, like he wanted to absorb me into his skin and carry me around.

He turned my face back, and I couldn’t understand the look on his. Some of the intensity was gone. It was almost like he was wary of my thoughts.

“You have something to say, Dino?”

It was eerie how he seemed to know I was holding back from him. I didn’t know what to do, whether I should come clean about the conversation with Babbo or not. I wanted Felice’s truth, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

“What would make you say that?” I asked.

“Your eyes are guarded,” he said, studying them.

“That’s nothing new. I’ve always been told I have mean eyes, or shrewd eyes. It’s the reason I’m unapproachable.”

“Not mean or shrewd. Guarded. There’s a difference. And the reason why you’re unapproachable is because all the other challenging males smell me all over you. Always have. You carry me with you.”

“Okay, guarded. But they’ve always been guarded.”

“Not with me.”

I didn’t turn my face away from his, but my eyes. “What do you want with me, Felice?”

He was quiet for so long that I finally looked at him. He was staring at me, his face hard and his jaw tight. When my eyes met his, the look softened, but something had pissed him off.

“Ti amo, Roma,” he said. “You’ve always been mine.”

He loved me?

Before I could respond, he took my hand and led me into the villa. Celso was inside, along with a man I thought was named Fredo.

Felice nodded to an envelope on the kitchen table. It had Mamma’s name on the outside. Inside, a picture of a man in his early twenties, maybe taken in the 70s or 80s, and two certificates.

“This is not possible,” I said, reading over the marriage certificate. It listed Mamma’s name and the name of a man I’d never heard of before. “Mamma had an arranged marriage with Babbo.”

I said the words, but the certificate from a church in Mamma’s hometown proved my parents hadn’t told us the entire story. Neither one mentioned this man or a first marriage to us. I looked at Felice and slapped the paper down on the table.

“So what? Maybe she made a mistake she didn’t want us to know about.”

---