Page 18 of Mine Again
I zoom in on Isa’s face, the camera sharpening her sleepy features. My hand lifts to the screen, and I trace the curve of her cheek,remembering what it felt like to stroke her skin, to kiss those lips that haunt me.
I can still taste her if I close my eyes.
The memory of her body arching against mine floods back so vividly it makes my heart ache… and my cock harden in my pants.
The soft sounds she made when I touched her. The way her breath shuddered into my mouth when she gave herself to me.
Fuck. My cock throbs, hard as steel, and all I can do is grip myself for the barest relief. But nothing, not even release from my own hand, will ever compare to her.
And it’s been so fucking long.
“I love you, butterfly,” I murmur, letting my thumb drag across the glass as if it were her mouth.
My chest burns with how much I miss her, how much I need her. The longing has carved itself into my bones, etched there as permanent as any tattoo, and it won’t ease until she is mine again.
How have I lasted this long without her?
Watching her heartbreak these past few years has been unbearable. Every tear, every forced smile, cut deep. Especially on her birthdays.
But it’s time to look forward. Time to reclaim what’s ours. The future I promised her is waiting. Not long now,farfalla.
On the desk beside me sits a sleek black box, her favorite chocolatier’s logo embossed in gold on the lid. I had the chocolates flown in yesterday. While I can’t send them to her, the box will wait here, lined up with the others from the past two birthdays.
This year, the pralines are topped with chocolate swallows, birds that migrate apart but always return to the same nest.
The tattoo gun waits in the drawer, this year’s design ready. One more mark for one more year carved into my skin. And after this, no more.
This will be the last birthday she spends without me. And I’ll be with her, watching.
Chapter Six
Isabella
Iwake to the soft, golden trickle of sunlight slipping through the curtains. I stretch my arms above my head, the sheets rustling as I breathe in the stillness.
Like every morning, I stare at the ceiling for a while.
Usually it’s to figure out how I’ll spend the day, and that depends on whether Father is around.
Lately, he’s been gone more often, which is a quiet relief to everyone in the house. Being capo and vying for the role of consigliere takes time, effort, and a great deal of maneuvering.
No one misses him. And he certainly doesn’t miss us.
Not even on days like today.
I turn my head to the window, trying to shake off the heaviness already settling inside. I’ve come to hate this day. It’s a cruel reminder of everything that could have been.
The door creaks open, and I glance up and watch Mari tiptoe in. She’s barefoot and grinning like she’s up to something.
“Ah, good. You’re awake.” She laughs softly, launches herself onto the bed, and starts tickling me.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happytwenty-second birthday, my dear old, old sister…”
I squirm and laugh, trying to fend her off.
“Brat,” I mutter, pinching her side. She squeals and flops down beside me, still smiling.
“I’ve got something for you,” she says, reaching over the edge of the bed to retrieve a small wrapped bundle she dropped during her dramatic entrance.
