Page 56 of Of Grief And Gratitude

I’d watched death cloud a man’s vision before, how the chest sank on the last hissing breath. Waited to see if the next breath would come. I couldn’t picture my Mamma’s body stilling like that.

I suppose it hadn’t since her end had been violent. There was nothing left.

My mind couldn’t process her smiling face one moment, wiped away by fire and metal the next.

Dante’s voice brought me back, saving me from thinking those thoughts. He squatted next to Riona, handing her a handkerchief and helping wipe her tears. That should have been my job, but I was utterly useless. My hand shook as I reached for hers, but she held on tight, steading me as her watery blue eyes met mine. I tried to follow as she rose, but my body betrayed me.

Sometime while I’d been on the ground, the sky had opened up, unleashing its fury on the surrounding destruction. My suit was soaked, and the fabric of Riona’s dress had darkened from her exposure to the elements. It took both of my brothers to help me stand on legs that cramped as my muscles tried to work again. The physical pain was nothing compared to the blade death had speared through my still-beating heart.

Could a man live, even as he died inside?

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” Dante said evenly. He straightened my suit jacket, snapping the sodden lapels into place and brushing dirt from the front. It was something Mamma did every time she saw us, even if there wasn’t a thread out of place.

Grief strained Dante’s face, his perfect hair hanging limply over his forehead, water dripping down his brow. He looked ten years older than he had at mass that morning. Had it only been hours? It felt like a lifetime.

“Riona is going with you,” he said, nodding in her direction. “She’ll stay there until I’m done.”

She nodded and wove her fingers through mine. Behind her, I glimpsed Cosimo’s back as he walked away, turning the corner before I could call out to him. It likely wouldn’t have done any good. My brother dealt with things in his own way.

I looked down at Riona, noting how her wet hair held tiny droplets of rain. It wasn’t fair to make her stay through the storm. “I’m ready.”

I wasn’t, though.

Even as we returned to the car, sheets of rain pelting us, my heart cried out, urging me to cling to that street where Mamma had left us.

Chapter Sixteen

I’d never seen a man collapse under the weight of his grief until Romeo’s knees buckled on that street. His cries were heart-wrenching, drawing tears of empathy from me.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day's events, and I struggled to process as the SUV sped toward Romeo’s building. I would essentially be his caretaker until one of his brothers could arrive and ensure he didn’t harm himself or others. It was a daunting task, but there was no way I could bring myself to leave him like he was.

Even now, he sat nearly catatonic, staring blankly out the window, face pale and the only sign of life the occasional rise and fall of his chest. I wasn’t even sure he was blinking.

I curled in on myself for heat, rubbing my arms because the heat in the vehicle didn’t help much with how wet I was. Thunder rumbled as the SUV entered the underground parking at Romeo’s building.

The driver held my door open for me, shooting me a sympathetic look when I shivered through my wet clothes. I helped pull Romeo out of his seat, taking his icy hand in mine and moving us toward the elevator.

“I can handle it,” I assured the men when they followed. “I’m just taking him upstairs.”

The man with the scar looked at Romeo warily but nodded and turned away, his partner following. I breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors closed, leaving Romeo and me alone. We rode silently to his place, where I fished through his pockets, finding his keys to let us in. He was a statue, moving just enough to get from one place to the next. We were dripping all over his entry, and I didn’t want to have to mop.

I pulled him across the living room, down the hall to Romeo’s bedroom, and into the bathroom, then turned the faucet in the shower on as hot as I could handle it. He needed to warm up, and the faster I got him warm, the sooner I could get dry. Romeo stood there immobile, his eyes unfocused and face set in hard lines. I was afraid to ask what he was thinking.

“Come on,” I said gently, fumbling as I worked the buttons on his shirt free. His skin was like ice under my fingers. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

He didn’t respond, but allowed me to pull his soaked suit coat off. It fell to the floor, heavy with water. I removed his cufflinks, peeled the shirt from his toned body, and then quickly worked on his pants. I didn’t look as I curled my fingers under his boxer briefs and pants, pulling them down to his ankles before realizing I’d forgotten to remove his shoes.

I unlaced the sleek black Italian leather dress shoes and tapped his foot. “I need your help here, Romeo.”

He lifted one foot first and then the other so I could remove his shoes and socks. His silence was unnerving. I was so used to his annoying wit that the statue of a man in front of me worried me more than I wanted to admit.

“Okay, that’s good.” I stood after removing the last of his clothes and led him into the shower. “You just stand under the water for a few minutes, and I’ll be out in the—”

“Stay.” Romeo’s large hand wrapped tightly around my wrist, and his eyes were wide and wild. He tugged me toward the water. “Please. Just—stay.”

My mouth fell open, but I found I couldn’t deny him his request. “I’ll stay, but you have to let go long enough for me to take my clothes off.”

He reluctantly released me, and I turned away while I stripped out of my blue dress. I caught him watching me in the mirror, his gaze dark and indiscernible. He’d seen me naked before. This wasn’t a big deal, but it felt significant somehow. I laid my dress on the counter, set my bra and panties on top, then kicked my sandals off and rolled my thigh highs down my legs, snagging them as they tried to stick to my skin.

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