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“In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.”
“Don’t ever lose your heart, my baby.”
Yes, she decided. He would be her first kiss.
“Nice to meet you too, Tristan. You’re my little buddy now.”
“You have really pretty eyes,”
“You,” his father sputtered, marching up to Tristan. “You did this? You disgraceful little bastard. I own you. Everything you do here, I control. You cannot-” Dante saw, adrenaline pouring in his system, as a young boy inches shorter than his father, stepped right into his face, nothing in his expression, and uttered his first words in public. “You ever try to leash me, I’ll fucking strangle you with it.” If angels could sing, that was the moment Dante heard the whole freaking choir. Someone in the crowd gasped but Dante kept his eyes on Tristan. He had been right to trust his gut when it came
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Every time she saw him, she wanted to do a chef’s kiss gesture to the sky. Yeah, he was that good.
“You just look at him like he’s Zia’s best batch of cookies and you’ve been hungry for a month. Like he’s fresh out of the oven and you’re waiting for him to cool before eating.”
He’ll be everything dark and you’re afraid of the dark, remember? You don’t belong in that world. You deserve better.”
“Will you be dark too, Vinnie?”
“I don’t know,”
“But I’ll never be dark for you.”
“I’ll love you anyway, you know.”
“Yeah, me too,”
there was a very fine line between them. Her hero could be the villain in someone else’s story.
People weren’t black and white, and sadly, neither were emotions.
“You’ve been acting weird.”
“No offense, Mr. Maroni, but you don’t know me well enough to know how I’m acting.”
“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I have a feeling you’ve been deliberately avoiding me for some reason for a while now, and I don’t know why. I don’t like it.”
“People are like chess pieces. Anyone on the board is of consequence.”
“And you think I’m on the board?”
“I don’t know yet,”
“If that’s all, Mr. Maroni?”
“Dante,”
“Seriously, why are you av...
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“I’m not.”
“Liar,”
“It bothe...
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“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s very nice of you to check in on me, but unnecessary. Have a good day.”
“Don’t lose your heart, my baby,” her mother told her, and Amara felt her eyes burn as the meaning of the words finally dawned upon her.
Amara turned her head to the side. And felt her heart stop. Dante Maroni sat on the chair in the room, looking absolutely wrecked. His tie was askew, his shirt crushed, his hair in disarray, and his eyes wild. Her breath caught in her chest. She’d never seen him look like this before.
The storm in his eyes focused on her—not her bandages, not her neck, but on her eyes.
“You’re not going to walk through life, Amara,”
he uttered roughly, each word a vow that cemented itself in her heart.
“You’ll dance through it. And I’ll fucking remove anyone who tries to break your...
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“So, I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.”
She was important and he was not going to ignore that.
Dante had picked her up carefully, and she had opened those beautiful green eyes of hers for a second, glazed in pain but recognizing him, before collapsing on his chest with a trust that had unmanned him. Yeah, she was fucking important to him.
I used to think strength had to be jaded until she taught me otherwise. She is strong like water is strong—it doesn’t appear that way because it’s adaptable, but it can seep into the smallest of cracks and break open the largest of rocks over time. She’ll be fine.”
‘Fate is always weaving its threads, Dante. We just don’t see them until our eyes open.’
She shrugged, closing her eyes, soaking in the rays of the sun. Dante looked at her, trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened within the last few weeks. Mostly, he was working and trying to process everything this girl was causing to happen inside him. Where before he had been a man not appreciating the sun until he went blind, now he was a blind man blessed with vision seeing the sunlight in all its glory. Amara wasn’t sunlight of clear skies; she was the sun hiding behind dark clouds, muted but powerful enough to still light the world.
Sometimes, things didn’t really have a reason. Sometimes, they just were.
“Wildflowers?”
A small smile while her eyes were in a nightmare.
Dante went to see her every day, and after a while, he realized she wanted him to.
A week later he went to her. She glared at him, threw him a pillow, and cried a little. He sat down beside her, and she hit him in the chest. It was the first time she touched him voluntarily before retreating into her blankets. That was progress.
Every day, he knew a little more about her. Every day, she saw a little more of him. Every day, her scars solidified a little more on her skin. But she didn’t talk to him. Her mother said she had started to whisper little sentences. Vin told him she’d started to whisper little questions. Even fucking Tristan had said she’d started to whisper little words to him. But not with Dante. That fucking bugged him.
Years passed. She became his person.
The thing between them grew, feeling the sun and the water, feeling the nurture and the affection. They began to feel more like magnets than puzzle pieces, finding their way to each other, close but not close enough, as the tension between them built and built and built. She became his person. She became his.
Over the last year, Dante had become something like the sun. She waited every day to feel his warmth, if only just for a few minutes before the clouds returned. But as long as she had the sun, the clouds were bearable.
