And even if we did, I thought he would turn away from me. I’m a reminder to him of dark times, just as he is to me. I can’t pretend that running into him, resparking that old fire hasn’t knocked me off my feet. Those memories, the ones I have worked so hard to put in the ground, float around me like the remains of some tragic shipwreck. Every now and then I wade too close to a piece of shrapnel, and the warning sirens go off in my head. As we talked and caught up with each other tonight, I had to remind myself that things are different now. That old danger is in the past.
Of course, there are new dangers now. Lorenzo and the Cleaners. The shop barely making a profit. Trying to keep my old, expensive, and empty family house up and running. And now there’s a new, added fear to the mix: losing Bruno again.
It’s like a dream, a surreality, an impossible twist of fate that we should find each other again years after the horrors that broke us apart. Throughout the evening, I’ve been occasionally tempted to pinch myself, to shake myself awake. This has to be a dream.
But when I reach up to brush my hand along the wiry hair on Bruno’s jaw and feel him lean into my touch, closing those beautiful eyes as though he’s losing himself in the ecstasy of the moment… I know for certain that this is real. This is actually happening. And I can’t lose him again. Not now. Not yet. There are still so many things I need to ask him, need to find out. I want to know him again the way I used to. We just need time—the one thing there never seems to be enough of.
Bruno turns his face slightly to kiss the soft skin of my palm, sending a curious thrill down through my body, burning down to my very core. I can feel that vibration way down in my toes. His warm, whiskey-tinged breath is like a jolt of electricity to my soul.
“Bruno…” I murmur, my voice trailing off and getting lost in the raucous thrum of competing conversations all around us in the bar. The counter is packed with patrons, and every table is full. Bruno and I have been standing against the far wall for… god only knows how long. Just talking. Reminiscing gently, both of us too afraid to really push too far and split open old wounds. I can tell, without even having to ask, that he’s not ready to talk about what happened yet. Not fully. I don’t blame him. I wish I could push those terrible thoughts of my mind, make room for better things hopefully to come.
Like right now.
I’m more than ready to make a new memory with Bruno. A much better one.
And it appears that he feels the same, leaning toward me, talking close. All evening he’s been pressed right up against me, that glorious, powerful body moving rhythmically with mine. It’s delicious, it’s intoxicating, and I can’t believe I’ve managed to survive all this time without it. Sometimes, someone can enter your life and remind you just how much you’ve been missing out on. Bruno was mine once, and nothing in the world has ever compared to the thrill of belonging to him.
I want him to claim me again. Tonight. As the two struggling grown-ups we are now.
“Passerotta mia,” he whispers, brushing his lips along the shell of my ear. A tingling warmth spreads through my body and I shiver, feeling goosebumps rise across my skin. I turn to catch his face mere centimeters from mine, the tips of our noses barely touching. We lock eyes for a tense, clenching moment, and then he glances down ever so quickly at my lips and I know.
He wants to kiss me. He’s feeling the same fire that I feel.
But he pulls back before giving in, lifting a calloused, powerful carpenter’s hand to stroke the hair back out of my face. “Where can we go?” he asks softly.
It’s a bigger question in my mind than he probably intends for it to be. Where can we go? In what world does our relationship belong? Where are we safe, the two of us? Right now, right here, I have an idea for a temporary safe haven.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I tell him. Then, as I’m turning to walk away, I add, “Please… don’t leave.”
Bruno gives me a brilliant, warming smile. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Serena.”
It’s hard to tear myself away from him, even for a moment, but I have to. I rush through the crowd, squeezing past various groups of bachelorette parties and post-grind investment bankers tossing back a few beers, finally reaching the bar counter. I wiggle in between two women giggling with umbrella drinks and locate Rafaela, who is engaged in a battle with one of her old nemeses: the daiquiri blender. At any other time, I might have burst out laughing at the sight— god knows we’ve talked about that evil blender a million times. She’s even confessed to me on one occasion that she’s pretty sure it’s possessed by a demon. It’s that bad.
But not as dire as my current situation.
I finally catch her eye, giving her an urgent expression. We know each other well enough to pick up on unspoken cues, and she immediately abandons the evil blender to hurry over to me.
“What’s up, babe?” she asks, her voice miraculously cutting through the din of high-pitched laughter and yells coming from all directions here at the center of the activity.
“I need a room,” I tell her plainly. I’m too determined to be coy about this. There’s no time to waste. Every moment I’m here instead of standing in front of Bruno is a moment I can hardly bear.
To her infinite credit and grace, she doesn’t razz me at all. Rafaela simply nods, swivels around, bends down to unlock a little gray safe behind the counter, and take out a room key. She places it in my hand and gives me a wink.
“Room 6. King-sized bed, en suite bathroom, window overlooking the community garden next door. Go get ‘im, tiger,” she says, grinning.
“Do I need to—?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about paying. It’s an empty room, you need it, and you’re my best friend. Consider this an early wedding present,” she adds, laughing. Blushing, I reach out and squeeze her hand gratefully.
“Thank you. Seriously.”
I turn away and start maneuvering back through the crowd again, my eyes peeled for Bruno. Finally, I arrive at the same spot where we were standing just minutes ago and he isn’t there.
My heart sinks down into my stomach and the room starts to go dizzy.
Where is he? Did he leave? How could this have happened? Maybe I spooked him somehow. Maybe he thought better of this and decided to make a break for it before things got too heavy. Maybe I only imagined the magic sparking between us. Maybe… it wasn’t meant to be.
Just as I’m about to give up and go back to the bar to return the key to Rafaela, I feel an arm snake around my waist. I look down, then back up, and to my uncontrollable joy I see Bruno beaming down at me, a fire in his eyes.
“I’m here, Serena. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”