Page 159 of Legacy
His body…
It’s a monument.
A living, breathing chronicle of us.
Every line of ink, every shade of crimson. A history I didn’t know he kept writing.
“I wanted to remember you,” he says.
Quiet. Certain.
“Every part of you. Even if I couldn’t have you.”
I take in a shaky breath.
It’s hot.
Too hot in here.
And I can’t breathe.
I can’t do this.
And he’s standing there covered in me.
Waiting.
I shake my head.
“Why?”
“Why?” he echoes his head tilting.
“Why dothatand not come for me? Why make me wait?”
His shoulders fall, his brows rise.
“Adriana, I don’t know how many times I can apologize until you believe it. But I will etch it in to your soul if I have to.”
He approaches me and I let him.
His fingers brush back my hair until his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me close he closes the distance his forehead presses to mine.
“I’ll regret not coming for you sooner for the rest of my life,” he whispers
I close my eyes and take a breath.
“Be patient with me. Make it right, Angelo,” I breathe out.
His breath hitches.
“I will. I swear it on my life. It’s the only thing I want to do.”
***
We disagree on who gets the couch. As much as he insists, I force him to the bedroom.
I tell him I need the distance.
