Mafia's Desire

27

Ermanno's POV

Three days without her. It was hellish. I hadn't realized how dependent on her I had become until she wasn't there.

But now I was back with her, with her body wrapped against mine as we lay in her bed. Her breathing was soft and patterned as she slept with her head resting next to my chest.

Earlier in the day, she asked me if I'd had any nightmares while I was away. I hadn't, but I wasn't able to sleep. The thought of her being alone, suffering every night from the unconscious visits of her ex-husband, without me there to offer her any comfort, to protect her, made it so I was unable to sleep. I was worried about my wife and how she was taking care of herself in my absence.

Having her sleeping against me now was relieving. I knew she was dreaming peacefully and not suffering from her experiences with Michael. I didn't need to worry anymore.

But I couldn't sleep in the early hours of the morning. Ansley had fallen asleep four hours ago, but I was still awake at 2 am. The anniversary of my father, Wyatt's, death was on this day. He died thirteen years ago today.

This was always the hardest day of the year for me, and this year in particular was the worst. This year meant I had lived longer on this earth without my dad than with him. I still felt the same pain I felt thirteen years ago when my mother told me what had happened. The pain never went away. It was silent sometimes, only showing up here and there, but it always hit me with the same shattering intensity.

I shifted on the mattress as an onslaught of emotion rattled against my chest. Ansley, my ever-knowing wife, stirred in her sleep and blinked up at my face.

"Are you okay, darling?" She asked.

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles. "I'm okay. Go back to sleep." She needed her rest after having not slept well the past few nights.

She pushed herself up onto her elbow while her hand came out to rest on the side of my face. "What's wrong? Have you not gone to sleep yet?"

I shook my head. "I'm okay, love, no need to worry about me."

She stared at me, unwavering in her position.

"My dad died thirteen years ago today. I've officially lived more years without him than with him."

Her eyebrows pinched up and she collapsed onto my chest, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. "Ermanno, I'm so sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I managed.

"Why didn't you tell me? I could've tried to comfort you."

"I try not to think about it much," I said. The back of my throat burned a bit as I spoke to her. "I didn't mean to not tell you."

She kissed my chest and smoothed her hand through my hair. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked softly. "I'll listen to anything you want to say about him."

I was silent for a moment as the burning in my throat heightened. I was going to cry. In front of my wife. How humiliating.

"I miss him," I said, hearing a pitiful crack in my voice, a crack that alarmed my observant bride because she picked her head off my chest to look at me just as the first tear fell from my eye.

Immediately I saw her eyes fill with water as well and she sat up, pulling my head against her chest.

I tried to blink away the wetness in my eyes before more tears could fall, but Ansley grabbed my face in her hands. "You're allowed to cry, my love," she whispered, as a tear rolled down her cheek.