Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)(80)

‘Ever cautious,’ he said softly.

He reached his hand out to help me steady myself. After much manoeuvring, I managed to make camp beside him.

‘Hi.’ I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. Stupid Dom and his apocalyptic words.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

Strangely, I wasn’t. I shook my head. ‘There are no stars in the sky,’ I pointed out. The night was cloudy – the moon just a nebulous smudge.

‘Everything is different now.’ I got the sense he wasn’t just talking about the weather.

I nodded, the sense of glumness expanding inside me.

He tipped my chin up so I would look at him. ‘But not how I feel about you, Sophie.’ He brushed his hand against my cheek, his thumb lingering on my bottom lip.

I blinked away the surprise. I had been expecting his feelings to trickle away, like water, even though mine had blazed ever brighter with each passing day. Still, there was no joy in the way he said it, no whisper of something more – of a future unfurling before us. It was hard to feel the sense of possibility now, no matter how badly I wanted it.

Still, there was tonight.

‘I bought you a Christmas present.’ I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small wrapped parcel. ‘It’s not much, and you’re probably going to think it’s really silly, but I wanted to get you something you’ve never gotten before and I thought it might be something special, just for us …’ I trailed off.

He raised his eyebrows, taking the package and rotating it in his hand. ‘I have to be honest, Soph, I’m really hoping it’s another poem.’

‘That was a one-time deal,’ I said.

He frowned. ‘But I love your poetry.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘I do,’ he insisted. ‘I mean, it’s really really terrible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it.’

Before I could stop myself I shot forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Open it, before I go out of my mind with suspense.’

He laughed a little, amusement turning to concentration as he unwrapped it piece by piece. Excruciatingly slowly, just to annoy me. I let him have his moment. At least he was being playful.

When he was done and the paper had been peeled away, he let it sit there on the palm of his hand, while he stared at it. This inconsequential-looking black stone with little thumbprint-shaped grooves inside it.

Embarrassment roared inside me.

He obviously had no idea what it was. He just kept looking at it, like he was trying to figure it out.

Oh God. He thought I was giving him a rock for Christmas.

Well, technically I was.

But it was a special one.

I thought about just covering my face and rolling off the roof, but it was my stupid idea in the first place, so I figured I may as well just explain myself and get the mortification over with.

‘It’s not just a rock,’ I said to the side of his face. ‘It’s more than that, I swear. See, it’s a—’

‘It’s a Sikhote-Alin Meteorite,’ he said, looking up at me. ‘From Russia.’

‘Yeah. It is …’ I said, surprised.

He looked back at the rock in his hand. ‘It’s from a meteor crash site in Siberia in 1947. Is that what you were going to say?’ He was looking at me again, and he was wearing the strangest expression on his face. I had never seen it before.

It was … wonder.

I smiled sheepishly at him. ‘I was actually just going to say it’s a fallen star.’

He held it between us, passing his thumb over the small ridges. ‘These are coarsest octahedrites,’ he murmured. ‘Part of the surfaces of these meteorites were blasted off while they passed through the atmosphere on the way to earth. That’s why it’s not smooth. See.’ He placed my thumb under his, so I could feel it.

‘Do you, um, do you already have one?’

‘No,’ he said quietly. That look, still on his face. His eyes seemed bigger, his mouth fuller, his breathing quicker. ‘I don’t.’

‘Good,’ I said, relieved. ‘Because I had to outbid an old lady from Kansas for it, and it got right down to the wire, but I’ll be damned if I was going to let her play the age card on me. Like, what? I’m just going to let her steal it out from under me when—’

‘I love it,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘I love that you went head-to-head with some sweet old lady and won. And I love that you have absolutely no remorse about it. I can’t believe you did this for me.’

I moved a little closer. ‘Why is that so hard to believe?’

He shook his head, his smile small and sad. ‘Because I don’t deserve it.’

‘Yes, you do,’ I said, willing him to look at me, but he was already disengaging, reaching into his jacket pocket.

‘I have something for you, too, Sophie.’ He pulled out a small box.

I took it from him, and held it in front of my face. ‘OK, this looks a little small to be a unicorn, Luca.’

‘Maybe I was just trying to throw you off the scent,’ he said, leaning closer as I opened it.

It was a bracelet, delicate and silver, with a single, heart-shaped charm. I read the words engraved on it. ‘Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, “It will be happier.”’