Page 73 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

“Because you can withstand it. Because you can withstand it all. Because that is who you are. But I don’t believe life will ask that from us.”

“What if it does?”

“You will be the man you’ve become. In the face of everything. And so will I. It was not love that was weak when your father let you go. And deep down I think you know that.”

“He did not love me. Not really.”

“Or perhaps he didn’t love himself. Perhaps he didn’t see a way out. But it was his fear that won. Not his love. And it was not his love for your mother that caused him to do that, because if he truly loved her, if in that moment he could truly feel what he had felt for her when she was alive, he never would have left her son. I would kill you. I would come back and haunt your ass so hard, Dario. If you abandoned our child? No. Your tribute, your love for me would inspire you to be the best father you could be. My father did that. Even if imperfectly. And I am well, in spite of his imperfections. Love does not have to be perfect. It simply must endure.”

“I do love you,” he said, everything within him trembling now. “I do. But I am... I am afraid. Because I feel closer to the boy that I was now than I ever have been. I feel perilously close to losing everything.”

“You’ve always been that boy. That boy is the one that got you here. Don’t hate him. He was strong enough to bring you where you needed to go. He was strong enough to help turn you into the man that I love.”

“I love you,” he said.

“It means more here, doesn’t it? Down in the street.”

He nodded. “It reminds me of then. I... I.” He took a breath and looked at her. “I spent three hundred and sixty-seven days on the street. Every night when I went to sleep I was afraid.”

“Oh, Dario...”

“I dreamed of having a bed, but there wasn’t one. I dreamed of rescue, but I couldn’t find it. I was cold, scared, alone. And I was eaten up with hatred for my father. I knew he would not rescue me so I found the strength to rescue myself.”

“Dario, our son will never need rescuing. We’ll already be there.”

They would be. Always. He knew it, with all of his heart. This was love. And it had been, from the moment she’d spilled coffee in his office and he’d seen the woman she’d become, and it had changed him. It had been, slowly, in all the years since.

Every fight, every battle, had begun to tear at the layers of defense he’d put up. She was the only one he’d never tried to charm. She was the only one who knew him.

And he knew it was time.

“I was born Raphael Vicente. I made vows to you as Dario. And now I make them as Raphael. I will stay with you, honor you, and love you. With all of me.”

A sob racked her frame and she threw herself into his arms. “Raphael,” she whispered. “I feel like I always knew you. Like I knew him.”

He held her tightly, emotion cascading over him in a wave. “Because you were the only one who looked at me and saw the truth. Saw it all.”

She smiled through her tears. “It’s mutual. You saw me when I didn’t.”

“You are kisses in a summer rain, Lyssia. And a whole hurricane besides. You are everything. You are mine, and I am yours. With you, I lose control and feel more grounded all at once. With you, I’m not afraid anymore. Not of love, not of the future, not of those three hundred and sixty-seven nights. With you, there is only love. Always.”

She nodded gravely, and then she took his hands, as if they were making vows then and there. Again. “And I will stay with you. I will. Always. I promise.” She leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. “You told me once you were what the world needed, spontaneously created to fill a void. But I don’t think so. You weren’t for the world. You were for me. You were never the villain, Dario. You were always my hero. From the very beginning.”

Dario Rivelli had very expensive custom-made shoes, and for the first time in his life he did not have a plan. Instead, he was filled entirely with nothing beyond love. For the woman in front of him. And he knew that he needed to know nothing. Except for them. Except for this. And so he would. Always.

EPILOGUE

WHENTHEIRSONwas born, the joy that Lyssia felt was so far beyond any pain she had ever suffered it was like a beacon of light that changed everything around her. The entire world.

But then, that seemed to happen, daily, since falling in love with Dario.

They were in a private hospital suite, looking down at their baby. Her father had been brought to tears by the enormity of seeing his grandson.

A little boy with black hair and dark eyes, just like his father.

“Have you thought of the name yet?” She looked up at her husband, who hadn’t taken his eyes off his son from the moment he had entered the world.

“I want... I want to name him Raphael,” he said.

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