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“Yes.”

His head snaps up. His eyes burn into mine. Then he leans down and kisses me. Hard, hungry, passion flowing between us in a way I never imagined. I moan his name as I cling to his arms.

There are still obstacles between us, challenges to overcome. But here, in this moment, I make a conscious choice to let down my walls, to be more vulnerable with my husband as he’s chosen to be vulnerable with me.

I don’t know what the future holds. I do know that my path forward is no longer certain. That if Michail were to ask me to stay, I don’t know if I would say no.

But that’s a question for another day. Today, I’m going to enjoy myself and this moment of happiness that we’ve claimed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Michail

We meander throughthe streets, hands clasped together, rarely speaking. More people fill the streets, tourists with cameras and phones pointed at the iconic blue domes, the churches, the caldera that cradles the sea. We duck down twisting paths with no destination in mind.

I’ve never felt more content in my life.

Eventually we end up at the edge of the city, whitewashed walls behind us and the sea laid out in its deep blue splendor before us.

“My mother would have loved this.”

I remember the picture I saw in her office, the happy grins and pure joy on both Alessandra and her mother’s faces.

“What was she like?”

Alessandra’s lips curve into a slight smile, her face softening as she gazes out over the sea.

“Incredible. Strong and supportive. She worked two jobs while studying for her nursing assistant qualification. When she got her nursing degree, we went apartment hunting. She taught me to enjoy the little pleasures but live within my means.”

“A wise woman.”

“Those first years were hard on her. Learning how to balance a budget, how to forego things she took for granted.”

“Another reason for your interest in finance?”

“My mom made mistakes early on. She never hid it from me. Since I loved numbers, she’d even have me help her with the budget, figure out how much we could afford for our new apartment. Graduating with her was the proudest moment of my life.” She squeezes my hand. “Your mom reminds me of her. Both going to school and pursuing a dream to create a better life for us.”

“And it was just the two of you?”

Alessandra nods. “She didn’t trust others after my father left. I don’t think she trusted herself, either. She fell hard when she met him. Looking back, she said it was all heat and no substance. But she ignored the warning signs, especially when my grandparents threatened to stop paying for her college.”

“You never saw him again?”

She slowly shakes her head. “No. The only real memory I have of him is the day he left. He came out of the bedroom. I heard my mom crying. I was playing with some wood blocks. He walked by, looked at me and said, ‘Sorry, kiddo.’ And then he was gone.”

I slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her a little closer. First her father walking away from her, then her grandparents labeling her as nothing more than a mistake. It’s no small wonder that she has a hard time letting people in when the people who should have loved her the most abandoned not just her but her mother.

“My mom didn’t go on a date until three years ago.”

Alessandra leans into me. My body tightens with need. Part of me wants to whisk her back to the villa now. But I also want to be with her now, like this, sharing pieces of herself like she did during our night together. Her confessions then were propelled by grief and passion. Right now, though, Alessandra is sharingherself because she wants to. And I want every piece she’ll give me.

I’ve never felt this way before. Never wanted to know someone on a deeper level. But each new thing I learn about the mother of my child adds to the complex layers of a dynamic woman who’s quickly becoming an integral part of my life.

“I wish they could have let themselves be happier sooner.”

Her words linger as we walk down the path to the water’s edge. When I had knocked on her door that morning and then opened it to find the bed made and no sign of her suitcase, I’d experienced a bone-deep fear similar to when she’d fainted outside her office in New York. Had I ruined things so quickly after we’d just finally made progress? I’d pushed her away from joining me at an event only made possible by her. And then, instead of owning up to my behavior, I’d jumped on one thing she’d said and used it as an excuse to put even more distance between us.

The relief I’d felt when she had finally answered her phone this morning had momentarily robbed me of speech. When she’d told me where she was, I’d allowed myself a sliver of cautious hope. I hadn’t planned on opening up to her. There had been several moments where I’d almost stopped. But she had taken everything I’d shared and given back compassion in an instant. Compassion and understanding, although I’m not sure I deserve either. The least I could do was show her I had heard her last night. Was making the effort even if I couldn’t go all the way.