Born in violence (A Mafia Romance Book 2)

Chapter Sixty- Two

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.
~Robert. A. Heinlein.~
 
           
 

                   Mia

"Te Amo, Bella Mia," He Had said. Sometimes, Romano makes love to me while speaking Italian, though I find it sexy, I have no idea what he says and I stopped asking when he did it so often and wouldn't tell me what he meant, no matter how many times I asked.

"Its lover's  talk," he would say," pretty much what I say in English in the same circumstances."

But this was different. He had said it differently, and the circumstances were not the same. I knew what it meant was what I've wanted to hear from him since I started Falling in love with him.

Te Amo Meant, I love you.

He finally said it. Romano was in love with me. I felt as if I had accomplished the impossible.

Butterflies filled my stomach; my heart seemed to have broken some kind of speed limit because it was beating too fast; I felt like my legs were about to give out even though I was seated

I Put that moment In a compartment somewhere in my heart, locked securely so I may never forget. I will forever remember the look in his face, the hand on my cheek, and his face lightly placed on my other side of the cheek, feeling his beard on my soft skin.

I was in a place in my life where happiness seemed to be elusive; I felt battered, but Romano saying he loved me meant so much I wondered if he realized just how much I needed to hear it.

I did not question it, or doubt it or assume he said it because of the circumstances we both found ourselves in. I knew he meant it because Rom never says anything he didn't mean.

We spent the day together. He pushed me out in a wheelchair watching the sunrise. I hadn't been out in days, I thought, as I lifted my face allowing the first sun rays to kiss my face.

It felt like the beginning of something new. It shone as if it came bearing gifts.

"How do you feel?" I hadn't spoken to him since I woke up; it was my way of making sure he didn't start talking about the elephant in the room, but now he had promised he wouldn't.

" I love the sun." I answered. He moved from my back to stand in front of me, his hands in his trousers. I noticed, for the first time that his hair was longer than he allowed it, curls fell beautifully around his shirt collar.

His lips broke into a smile; his eyes stared into mine. I felt as if he was trying to read my mind, something he did often and accurately.

" Thank you." He whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. I narrowed my eyes in confusion as to what he was thanking me for, intently still gazing at me as if I was the answers to all his questions.

"For speaking to me."

Oh God! That made me both sad and guilty. I was so cought up in my grief I didnt stop to think how he was dealing with all of it.

I didn't know how he felt about the baby?

How was he dealing with the loss? Did he think about it? And how was his mental state in regards to what happened to me?

He looked like a man who'd been hauled to gallons and lived to tell the story. He rubbed the edge of his nose with his thumb, giving me one last look before moving his eyes to the surrounding.

"Im sorry I haven't been okay." that seemed to make him angry, his soft eyes turned granite-hard, his forehead creased into four-folds, hand fisting as if he wanted to punch into something.