Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I cling to Saverio’s elbow. “Oh my God.” Confused for a moment, I battle to process the sight.
Nicole jumps out of nowhere, her arms flailing wide as she rushes toward me in an elegant silver evening gown. “Surprise, darling.”
She hugs me, forcing me to let go of Saverio.
“I’m sorry,” she gushes. “I know the whole yelling surprise thing is a cliché, but I couldn’t resist. Let’s get you out of this coat.” She helps me to remove the coat. Thanks to the widespread outdoor mushroom heaters, it’s warm inside. “Oh my God. You look gorgeous.” Handing the coat to a nearby waiter, she says, “Leave this in the house.” To me, she says, “We set up a cloak room for the guests in the entrance.” She pushes me deeper inside with her hands on my shoulders. “Welcome to your party, darling.”
My lips part as I stare at the setup in front of me. Everyone from the club and their partners are there. A white and gold checkered floor laid down on the lawn ensures the ladies’ heels won’t sink into the grass. A full bar complete with a mixologist who’s making a show of juggling bottles of liquor is set up in the corner. Cocktail tables and barstools are scattered throughout the space. Waiters stand at attention around the sides of the tent, seemingly waiting for the word to serve the guests.
At the other end, musicians sit on a stage. They start playing a slow version of happy birthday while Nicole urges me to enter. Saverio takes my hand and walks me inside under the loud clapping of the guests. I look up at the ceiling that’s draped with fairy lights and flowers. An arrangement of lilies and roses in the shape of a chandelier hangs from the center of the roof. Everything is unbelievably beautiful, and it’s all for me.
My chest tightens with emotions as we walk through the crowd toward a table on the side with flowers in the center. No one looks at me with hostility, pity, or misplaced envy like they did at our wedding. They all smile at me as if my joys and perils are the same as theirs now. The desperate fight for survival is a powerful bond. It ties us together, and that makes me one of them.
I look over my shoulder to see Livy and Dante who sneaked in behind us. They must’ve gone around the side of the house. Livy beams, giving me a bright smile. The surprise is meant for me, but it makes her happy. My mom has never been happy for me. On the contrary, she hated it when I was happy. It makes me appreciate Livy all the more for her unconditional love and selflessness.
Dante nods, a quiet message passing between us. He’s telling me to forget about our problems for one night and to simply enjoy the big deal Saverio is making about my birthday.
My heart squeezes as I turn my gaze to the man who, despite the cane, walks proudly next to me. And then my breath stutters. Because he’s taken off the eyepatch.
“Saverio,” I cry out softly.
He looks down at me. The transformation is striking. The custom-made acrylic eye replaces the temporary one. It’s so well made you won’t notice the difference unless you study it closely. The color matches the infinite blue of his own eye. The uncanny effect throws me straight back into the past, into a time when Saverio looked at me with predatory intentions burning in that icy blue stare.
I want to tell him what a work of art that artificial eye is, how it changes his steely regard when he doesn’t wear the eyepatch, but I only manage to say through dry lips, “You didn’t tell me.”
He brings me around the table. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“The change is extraordinary,” I say when he pulls out a chair and seats me.
His mouth lifts in one corner in acknowledgement of the compliment as he sits down next to me.
The song and the clapping come to an end. Waiters rush forward, filling the glasses on the tables with champagne. When our glasses are full, Saverio pushes to his feet, leaving his cane against his chair. I don’t miss how he spreads the fingers of his left hand and presses them on the tabletop for balance as he raises the glass in his right hand.
The gazebo goes quiet. Everyone stands.
My husband turns his face toward me, the quiet second in which our eyes lock just for me. In that second, he says more with his smile than he can ever say with words. For a moment, he’s an open book, allowing me to see everything—the pride, the respect, the heat, and the crazy obsession. For that moment, no one else exists. I’m just a woman in love with a man, and he’s the man who promised to take care of me. When it comes down to the basics, it’s as simple as that. We’re just a man and a woman doing our best to survive. I can’t ask more of him when he’s doing his best to make me happy. Not even love.