Sweet Fall (Sweet Home #2)(98)
The old woman cleared her throat, an endearing smile on her face. Ducking my head in embarrassment of being caught staring, I smirked and replied, “No, é la mia fidenzata.”
No, she’s my fiancée.
The old woman smiled wide and laid her hand on her chest, glancing over my shoulder to Lexi. “Ah, giovane amore.”
Young love.
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder. “è preziosa, tesoro. Proteggi il suo cuore.”
She’s beautiful, darling. Protect her heart.
I nodded, cherishing the woman’s advice, and replied, “Sempre. Sempre. è l’amore della mia vita.” Always. Always. She’s the love of my life.
I made my way back to Lexi through the teeming outdoor terrace and placed my hand on the nape of her neck. Big beautiful eyes looked up at me, and she smiled.
She still took my damn breath away.
“You ready, Pix?” I asked and held out my hand for her to take. Lexi gripped her hand in mine, and, leaning down, I placed a kiss on her engagement ring—an ebony four-carat diamond set in eighteen-carat black gold—nothing else would do for my little gothic girl. Not too big, not too fancy, but laced with edge and completely her.
Blushing, she stood and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her face was suddenly serious. “I’m ready, baby. Are you sure you are?”
Inhaling deep, I placed a kiss on Lexi’s lips, pulling back only to say, “I am.”
Walking back to our private villa on a stunning hilltop in a secluded hamlet, I gripped onto Lexi’s hand like it could give me courage. She didn’t say anything in response. She knew today was gonna be hard on me, on Levi, but she was always my silent support. Hell, she’d been that way all along, hadn’t she? Keeping my secrets, me keeping hers.
Lexi had moved with me to San Francisco. And in the past year, together we had opened up a treatment center for youths with eating disorders. She called it Daisy’s Smile, and I was so shittin’ proud of her. She was still helping others, even though she was still in recovery herself.
I couldn’t wait to marry her, to have her as my wife, but we agreed that day would come when she felt comfortable again. Felt like herself again. Lexi’s recovery would be a long process, and I wanted to give her the wedding day of her dreams, not one clouded with insecurity. I didn’t really care about waiting. I saw her as my soul mate, my life, regardless of a piece of paper telling me what we had was legit.
Ten minutes later, and after a slow and steady pace, Lexi and I walked through the door to the villa, Lexi a little breathless from too much exercise. She was still weak but getting stronger all the time.
Levi immediately met us at the door, eager to get going. The kid looked good these days. He’d smartened up. His fair hair, short and styled, paired with his gray eyes and deep southern drawl, he had the California girls wetting their panties over his Bama ass. We got his stidda removed too. He was reborn. He didn’t need the sign of his past weighing him down.
Since moving to San Fran, I got Levi in a good private school—a good football school—and he’d gotten his grades up. He was focused on football, and he had just about every college in the damn country wanting him to play for them in a couple of years—most talented wide receiver I ever saw.
Of course, Levi wanted to play for the Tide, his home team, but he wasn’t ever going back to Tuscaloosa. I just couldn’t allow it. He got out of the crew, and he wasn’t going anywhere close to the Heighters turf ever again.
I was just so damn proud of the kid… Mamma would be proud of the man he’d become too.
“We ready to go?” Levi asked nervously, and Lexi broke from my hand and moved to give him a hug. Levi wrapped his gangly arms tight around her back. I noticed her subtle flinch, but it was Levi and he adored her. She’d become a mamma of sorts to him, making sure he wasn’t ever missing out on having a parental figure in his life.
Pix had a heart of gold.
“You gonna be all right, okay, sweetie. We’re here for you,” Lexi said as she pulled back and rubbed at Levi’s arms.
“I know, Lex. Just gonna be weird, you know?” Levi shrugged and, moving forward, I took him in my arms, pulling back only to place my hands on his cheeks. “Andrà tutto bene, fratellino mio. Te lo guiro.”
Everything will be fine, little brother. I swear it.
Lexi walked away to our master bedroom, giving us a private moment, and, minutes later, reappeared clutching the small golden urn protectively in her arms.
Her small encouraging smile told me it was time.
Mamma told me growing up that the Ponte Vecchio was her most treasured place on Earth, the thirteenth century bridge that ran over the top of the Fiume Arno, the Arno River. It symbolized her home, Firenze, her roots, and she dreamed of showing us all its beauty one day.
She never got that chance.
When Mamma died, spreading her ashes in Alabama never seemed right. This was her home; Italia was her soul, her heart. And it was about time she made her permanent return.
Lexi, Levi, and I walked slowly along the length of the Ponte Vecchio, Lexi’s hands in each of ours, our rock in this most intense time.
The iconic tourist attraction was strangely deserted on this wintery but sunny day. It was like God knew what we were about to do and wanted to pay His respects, giving us some privacy to say our final good-byes to His daughter.