Page 59 of I Would Beg For You

“That’s…a lot to take in,” I venture to say.

He nods. “I know. But you have a safe space here.”

Literally and figuratively. This apartment. And also, with him.

I heave in a deep inhale then sigh loudly. “What, now?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That simple, huh?”

This time, he does shrug. It makes me smile, seeing him so human in this soft move of his lean shoulders.

“Thank you,” I say.

“For all this? You don’t owe me any thanks, Naomi.”

I shake my head. “For gifting me a memory of my mom.”

His eyes go soft, the smile wistful. “You look so much like her.”

I don’t think he could’ve said anything to warm my heart more.

“We’ll meet again?” I ask.

“Yes.”

Just one word, holding all the certainty in the world.

“Goodbye, Naomi. Be safe.”

“Goodbye, Uncle Declan.”

I catch him smiling before the call cuts. The silence blanketing the room is deafening. There’s a roar in my ears, and it seems to be coming from my heart. It’s in my blood, flowing all through me. I’m not alone anymore. I have somebody else in my corner. My world lost its axis the day Valentino told me the truth about my father and how he pursued my mother, but the wrongs are being righted, slowly but surely. I just have to hold on for long enough.

Slowly, I come back to my senses. I can hear soft mutterings in the next room, where Valentino and Anya still are. I pick up the laptop and stand up, make my way to the door which I slide open.

Two pairs of worried eyes land on me when I stop in the doorway. I wordlessly hand the computer to Anya, who picks it up from my extended hand. I then open my arms and step towards Valentino. He wastes no time wrapping me in his embrace. When he drops a soft kiss on my head, I burrow into him some more and let out a sigh.

“I have an uncle,” I say, then giggle.

The rumble of his laughter resonates in his chest and against my cheek.

“So, you do,” he replies with a chuckle.

“This place is mine, apparently.”

He pulls away and stares down at me. “What?”

I laugh. “I had the same reaction.”

We can stay here…

This is our bubble, our pad away from all the turmoil brewing around us. My father and his damn political campaign; Valentino and his Borgata. We could nest here and just be us, Val and Naomi, happy, carefree, and more importantly, free.

But that’s not reality. A pang hits my chest, and I gulp softly.

“We can meet here,” I say in a murmur.

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