Always, Darling

Chapter 2

~ Ｔ Ｈ Ｅ Ｏ Ｄ Ｏ Ｒ Ｅ ~

Sixteen years had passed since Milena left without a trace, leaving a short note that read, I am so sorry, darling, but I can't do this anymore. I'll always love you, until I take my last breath.

I had been raising Simon as a single father for sixteen years through medical school, residency, and fellowship. I loved my boy more than anything, but each day I laid eyes on him, I was reminded of the heartache I had suffered, of the heartache that had never dulled even ages after the years that had passed.

His chestnut eyes, his warm brown skin, the black coils that fell from his head, that wide smile he had when around his boyfriend, Nathan. The same smile I used to bring out in my darling wife before the events of that night when everything changed.

Even after sixteen years, the memories of her were still painful to remember. Sometimes the pain was a mere throb, but other times a sharp pain would go through my heart just as it had when I read that note, as if my entire world was crumbling once again. I had resigned myself to always feeling like this because it seemed to be that this part of my story—the thrill of love and romance, no matter how short it was—would have a lasting impression on my entire being.

If it wasn't for my family and two best friends—James and Wyatt—I never would have made it this long. I had been friends with James since I was eleven, but I met Wyatt at a party that his brother, Chris, had dragged him to when I was fifteen and Wyatt sixteen.

The two of us were drunk as fuck. I don't remember much of that night, but somehow we ended up back at my place in the morning. Dad and Alessandro were pissed at me for coming home drunk, so I got grounded for two weeks. Wyatt's parents reacted the same, but before they came to pick him up, we made sure to exchange numbers.

After our grounding was over, we latched onto each other and became practically inseparable. He started college in Miami two years later, at the same time James moved down for college as well. The two of them immediately hit it off well, but there had been a few issues over the years.

Wyatt was a detective, his brother the chief of police and father the ex-chief of police who now owned a small private investigation firm. His family's position in law enforcement prevented us from being completely honest with him, especially since James was now the Don of the Italian-American Mafia. But we always worked through it, and our friendship had lasted through the years.

Wyatt and James were practically family to me. They had helped me cope with Milena's abrupt departure, helped me raise Simon and give him good role models. They had cooked meals for us when I was depressed to do it myself. We were inseparable—the three Musketeers.

I may have been Ava's guardian angel, but James and Wyatt were mine.

It was Saturday morning—8 a.m. to be precise—and in my opinion, much to early to be awake. Especially after a night of drinking with Wyatt and James.

Light peaked through the curtains that were drawn across my bedroom window. I brought an arm over my eyes, shielding myself from the light.

"Watch yourself, Russo," Wyatt mumbled from his position next to me. "You nearly knocked my head off with that arm of yours."

"That would've been a shame. This arm makes me half a million each year."

"Shut the fuck up with that fancy doctor shit," James said, his voice still groggy from sleep. He was laying on the other side of me on my king-sized bed. He turned on his side and tugged the blanket across his torso, saying, "I'm trying to fucking sleep, and if I'm interrupted one more time, I will break your arm, no questions asked."