"I haven't. I wanted to tell you first, but I'll let her know. I'm not sure how she will take it, especially after that whole fiasco last year."
Yeah, being left at the altar and thinking your future husband had run away, and then hearing our father was dead, did not land well with Clara. But I always thought she was tougher than she looked, and I was sure she would be able to work through all of this, maybe even better than Aria and me.
"Let me know once you have more information, okay? But for now," I pulled Ajla to me, "I need you to leave so that Ajla and I can finish our conversation."
Aria smirked, retreating back towardthe door. "Conversation, right." She looked at Ajla then. "It really was great meeting you, and whenever you want to have that training, just let me know. I'll help you."
"Thank you," Ajla said just as Aria exited the room. "She's nice," the light of my life said, staring at the vacant spot where Aria stood.
"Nice isn't an adjective anyone would use to describe my sister, but, eh," I shrugged, "I guess she is when she likes someone. Now," I turned her around, "where were we?"
Her hands landed on my chest, her eyes clashing with mine. "Oh, you were about to tell me I'm your soulmate and your heart belongs only to me."
If only she knew.
EPILOGUE
Ajla
Four Months Later
Back home wehad a saying that if too many people knew about your happiness, they would somehow jinx it, so I kept my relationship with Nicolas mostly hidden from people. When I say mostly, I mean that those people important to me knew about him, but the rest—the rest didn't need to know.
My mom met him via video, andshe couldn't shut up about how kind he seemed and how in love he looked, not that we had said those words yet. They couldn't understand each other, and in a way I was almost grateful. I don't think I was ready for her to have a full conversation with him and to share all the embarrassing moments from my childhood. She knew he was in real estate and that he owned a company, but nothing more, and that's how it should stay.
My sister, on the other hand, already had a question I didn't know how to answer, and I hoped I would never need to. I didn't want to have to explain that I had somehow ended up in a relationship with a Capo of the Moretti mafia, when I've spent half of my life warning her against dangerous men and what they could do to her if things went sideways.
But the only danger Nicolas possessed now was a danger to my heart, and maybe a little bit to my soul.
It's been four months since I decided to give him a chance, and I haven’t regretted it once. I had a feeling he took my happiness seriously and he wasn't only trying to show me in words how much I meant to him, but also in actions. He remembered small things, like which TV shows I liked, what foodI loved, when I needed some time for myself, and he didn't push.
Even now as we lay in his bed, with my head on his chest and his fingers going through my hair, he understood that I sometimes needed silence to process my thoughts. And the one that kept running through my head right now was the fact that I was so in love with him it wasn't even cute anymore.
"Nico," I said, my throat still raspy from all the screaming last night and this morning. He definitely knew the best ways to wake me up. I pushed myself up and looked at him, practically obsessed with his freshly fucked look, and the way his eyes seemed to turn almost red in the morning sun. "I love you," I blurted out, my eyes widening as soon as the words came out.
I sat up, covering my mouth with my hands, looking at him with equal parts embarrassment and fear. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if I said it too soon? What if I had misread the signs?
"Say it again,mia bella rovina," he practically whispered as he sat up with me, pulling my hands away from my mouth. "Please. Say it again."
"I, uh," I cleared my throat. "I love you. And it's okay if you don't love me. It's okay if you don't feel the same way, because?—"
He never let me finish that sentence, effectivelyshutting me up with his lips on mine, his hands roaming all over my body. Devouring me, tasting me, his lips moving down my neck, all the way to my chest and back up.
"Ti amo," he said. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you," he kept repeating, smiling the entire time. His hands engulfed my cheeks as he pressed his forehead to mine. "I don't know when it started or how, but I am so in love with you, and I've been terrified I would scare you away if I told you too soon."
"Since when?" I placed my hands on top of his. "Since when did you know?"
"Since our first month together. Since you treated Clara not as a broken young woman, but as someone stronger than she knew. Since you allowed my mom to baby you even though you are old enough to be a mother yourself. Since you held me as the nightmares attacked my mind. Sometimes it feels like I have loved you since the moment I saw you, but I didn't want to get ahead of myself."
I understood, because sometimes I felt that way too. My vision blurred and the tears I didn't need right now pushed through, running down my cheeks.
"No, no," he murmured, his thumbs removingthe traitorous emotions rushing down my cheeks. "Don't cry."
"I'm happy," I mumbled. "I'm so happy and I was afraid I had somehow ruined what we had by blurting those words out."
He pulled me into an embrace, wrapping his arms around me, letting me cry and smile and cry some more. "I'm glad you were braver than me." His lips pressed against my hair. "And I know it might seem too soon or maybe even crazy, but I have a question for you."
I pulled back like he was on fire, hoping he wouldn't ask what I thought he might.