ventotto

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*translations adjusted to fit the English equivalent and the feel of the literature*

I look up at Dante expecting him to immediately shoot down the idea but, to my surprise, he doesn't.

"Alright, let's go," he held the door open for me to get into the car.

"Wait, really?" I say as I climb in hesitantly.

"If that's what you want then of course," he squats down to my level, "But, we need to talk about something first."

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to say that I can't stop thinking about last night. I felt awful about the way I talked to you. I was too ashamed to even touch you in bed."

My eyes fell on the dashboard, "It's fine, I understand. You were just trying to protect us and you're worried about your grandma."

He took my hand from my lap and squeezed it gently, "I was very, very worried but I was also too dismissive of your feelings. It just came to me as a shock so I just acted without thinking. It's completely understandable that you'd want answers, you just found out the guy that you let into your space and invested your time and energy into has been lying about everything he's ever told you and to top it all off, he's one of the leaders of an international gang or cartel or whatever the hell you want to call it. I didn't give you any time to process it and that was my mistake. We all react to things differently. I wanted you to cut him off immediately and you just wanted to get to the bottom of it all."

"Yes, but I was being self-centered. I should've considered you more. You're in this too." I responded.

"And I should've tried to honor your feelings more. I could've came up with some sort of compromise instead of dishing out an ultimatum. I'm a grown man, you're a grown woman. We can talk things out. I don't ever want to fight with you, Infinity. I know that you've heard enough apologies for one day but, I am sorry."

I finally meet his eyes, "I'm sorry too."

He kissed my hand tenderly, "You deserve closure. Besides, if it really is him, then we'll at least have a clear answer as to whether he's really in this thing plus we won't have to be looking over our shoulders anymore. But...are you really sure that you want to do this?"

"Yes..."

"What if it really is him?"

"Then, like you said, I'll have my answer and we can both move on." I affirmed.

He breathed out slowly, looking into me, "And...if it isn't him?"

I hadn't considered the possibility but I knew why he was asking.

"It doesn't matter. It's still going to be you because I want you. And I mean that. I really mean that."

He smiled weakly, got up, closed the door and entered through the driver's side.

"Giurin giurello," he said, picking up my hand and linking his pinky finger with mine.

I laughed, "What does that mean?"

He leaned in and kissed me, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

We were directed to a coroner's office just outside of the city. The police informed us it was quite uncommon that they let the public identify a body like this, but since it was such a unique case, they were itching for someone to help them.

As we sat and waited for the next step of the process, I was simply a bundle of nerves. The waiting room was stereotypically cold. The walls painted an uneasy shade of yellow and a mounted fatback TV played the sports channel. Sterile pamphlets splayed out on the glass coffee table:

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