Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Emma lets out a sigh of relief. It’s been a struggle for her, reconciling the man she loved growing up with the same man who put her child in danger. The man who has left Matteo with nightmares. I’ve offered to bring a therapist to her. After assuring her I mean paying a qualified therapist very well to do house visits and not kidnapping one, she agreed to try it.
She rolls around so that we’re facing each other and wraps her arms around my neck. She pulls me in for a kiss, and I savor it. Not just the kiss, but that she gives me her affection now. She no longer tries to keep me at arm’s length but welcomes me into these sweet moments.
“Thank you.”
She doesn’t realize the power she wields over me, but one day, she will. There isn’t such a thing as too much when it comes to Emma. I would burn the world down if that was her greatest desire.
She pulls away slightly, a shy look in her eyes as she licks her lips. “I… I love you, Enzo.”
I can’t show her how much I love her, not when Matteo is in the same bed as us, but I try my hardest to convey the feeling with my lips. “And I love you, Emma. I’ve loved you from the first second I laid eyes on you, and I will love you long after they have buried us in the ground.”
“By the way, I want to be cremated,” she teases me.
“Then they can mix our ashes and use them as soil for a tree our great-great-grandchildren can sit under.”
Emma laughs at me, the sound loud and sudden. It startles Matteo and Emma has to turn over to rub his back to help him settle back into sleep. I wrap my arms around her and welcome the sleep that comes with the woman I love in my arms.
Chapter Forty-Eight- Emma
It shouldn't make me so happy to see that our flight attendant isn't Clarissa. Perhaps the feminist in my brain should be seething at the thought that I would deny her a job because of how she looks, but that isn't true. It isn't that she can't work for the family, I just prefer she stays on flights away from my fiancée.
Perhaps my brain is more screwed up than I give it credit for.
Today, the flight attendant is a plump woman in her fifties. She’s got a kind smile and wears compression stockings. When we stepped onto the plane, she fretted over Matteo before she even acknowledged Enzo, who is technically her boss. He didn't mind, and I appreciated her all the more for it. She also showed me photos of her grandchildren when we boarded the plane, the youngest being only a couple of months younger than Matteo.
His birthday is at the end of the week, and he’s told me he wants to have a dinosaur-themed party. He thinks his father is capable of anything, including getting him a real dinosaur. I don’t think it’s possible, but if someone were capable of doing it, it would be Enzo.
I still don’t know where we’re going. Enzo hasn’t told me yet. After the incident, I doubted Enzo would want to go anywhere, but he woke us up this morning and told me to pack a bag for a couple of days. He also promises me his mom will arrange the best dinosaur birthday party for Matteo when we get back.
Enzo hands me a couple of pamphlets. Oceana, Marine Conservation Institute, and the Ocean Foundation. “What are these?” I ask him.
“Pick one. Every time we have to use the private plane, I will donate $10,000 to the environmental charity of your choice. Offset our carbon footprint a bit.” He doesn't smile as he says it, and if it were anyone else, I would have called him dismissive. Not only had he listened to me on our last flights, but he picked out three organizations that aligned themselves with what I told him.
Enzo might be a new language for me, but I'm becoming fluent quickly.
I can’t help but smile at the man with so many layers. He doesn’t care about his carbon footprint, but he knows I do. Maybe that’s what love is about, not finding someone who shares all the same ideas as you, but finding someone who cares enough about yours that they’re willing to compromise. The overhead speaker comes on, announcing our descent. Even the pilot doesn’t say what airport we are coming into.
“Are you willing to tell me where we are yet?” I ask him as I flip through the pamphlets he's thrown at me. I'm sure that we'll be making at least a few flights a year, so I'll spread our donations out between the three organizations.
“Colorado.”
I look up at him, wondering what he's up to. Colorado is where I ran to when I hid from him, and while he'll never forgive my father, I also hope he doesn't hold any ill feelings toward my aunt. She did her best to support me during that difficult time, she doesn't deserve his ire.