Soft music swam through the interior of the bedroom, Nicole cleaning around with a bounce in her step and gently humming along to the instrumental symphony as she fluffed the cushions with the 1-year-old toddlers too occupied by the blocks laid before them. Humming to herself, Nicole turned around to grab something but instead was greeted by her husband's chest.
"Oh," She jumped in surprise, never having heard him enter much less come and stand behind her.
Nicole looked up at him as he was giving her a gentle smile. She watched him wrap an arm around her waist with the other taking hold of her hand and he began waltzing as his wife laughed at him, Salvatore's smile growing at the sound.
The two of them swayed around the room and danced to the music, Nicole too lost as the occasional giggle would escape her at his antics.
Salvatore had been getting better. Sleep
Stars illuminated the sky dressed in flowing black and for once; it wasn't covered by grey clouds and crying a fresh wave of snowflakes. The floor was the opposite of the roof above, white against black shining with diamonds. The house had been shining like fire in the setting sun, but now had been reduced to an ebony shadow in the distance, and at this time of the night, the majority of the lights had been turned off as well.Men hid on tree branches, watching the house, and the men patrolling the grounds, knowing they had a small time window, and the job needed to be done quickly. Their Boss was amongst the men hidden between the leaves, his immaculate suit replaced by black camouflage and a device fitted into his ear."Piero," Their boss called into the device, his voice hardly above a whisper, with his mouth covered by a black scarf tokeep away the cold. "Are you in position?"Pier
For the past one week, Nicole had either been sobbing nonstop or staring at her phone in hopes of a message or call from Salvatore. On more than a few occasions she had wanted to call him, even go back home, but Luca had told her to give him time. She had. She did try her hardest to give him the time that he needed, but now it was just becoming too much. The guilt, the longing, the need, his comfort. She needed to go back.Choking back the tears, she trudged out of her room and made her way across the hallway before pushing open the door to her parent's bedroom. She was hoping to talk to her father but instead found her mother reading, her gaze shooting up from the book to look at her from beneath her lashes."Nicole," She sat up, watching her daughter make her way forward and collapsing on the mattress, burying her face into the pillow and not caring how much criticism she would face. "Ti symvaínei? What
Nicole stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself in the black V-neck wrap dress that reached her knees. Her hair was left open, but it was a mess, she hadn't bothered brushing out the tangles after her shower, as a matter of fact, the only reason she had showered was because of Salvatore dragged her in with him.Swallowing the lump in her throat, she gave herself a long hard look. Her eyes a soft pink from her incessant crying, her lips chapped and her cheeks ashen. It hadn't been 2 days, and already she looked like a zombie.Black always had suited her, accentuated the green of her eyes or contrasted with the rich hazel of her hair, but now, she wore black to commemorate her grief for her loss. She had every right to be a mess, Salvatore said, she had every right to cry and scream and be angry, and she knew that and agreed.But what she didn't agree with was the need to invite
It had been over a week since Rhea's funeral, and since that day, neither Nicole nor Salvatore slept in the same room, the mafia boss waiting for her verdict. He had his wife sleep in their bedroom while he had initially slept in Stephen's room until the American went back to his apartment and he shifted onto the recliner in the twin's nursery. Both husband and wife didn't talk to each other, no matter how much the Mafia Boss wanted to, he knew she needed her time and space after everything that happened.A part of Nicole still blamed Salvatore, and his words would constantly be swimming through her mind. How her drugging him behind his back triggered unpleasant memories, and how if she did begin to hate him, the only plausible solution was a divorce and she spent entire days just lying in bed and not doing anything.And she didn't know if she wanted to separate from him...Salvatore stood d
Grief is not spontaneous or random.It's the smallest things which set it off: the reminiscing of the past, minor similarities between the deceased and a stranger, or just an old face which reminds you of them.It's always the smallest things which have the biggest impact.You feel your heartache like someone is squeezing it from inside your chest, your entire face gets warm, and your stomach drops to your feet; you are unable to stand right because you feel light-headed and your knees are shaking. Your hand trembles and your head pounds. A lump forms in your throat, your vision blurs as the tears spring forth and the next thing you know, you're crying because of how much their presence meant to you, because you see that look on the faces of the people around you, and you can see how lifeless their eyes look, how much pain they are in by the monotony of their features, and it hurts, knowing
November had come and gone, as had December and January; and spring had just come into full bloom as May rolled around. Salvatore had spent 2 months with a therapist, who then deemed him well enough to discontinue the sessions, and halfway through his first month, Nicole joined a 12-week PTSD group council which helped her immensely in overcoming the trauma of her mother's death.With spring rolling around, the weather lifted to that warmer notes and the flowers bloomed. In all that expanse of green, they have the courage to be anything else, to stand out with a beauty that draws people close. The flowers command a strength, a fragility, a vibrancy, a soft fragrance. They come as children do, boldly unique, born to grow in their own way. They come as the kind of smiles that reach the eyes. They come to help us to see with our hearts, for a love is a light that turns cold reason into an ever-branching and deeply rooted joy.
The warmth of the sun wasn't too harsh to stay indoors, and a slight chill loomed in the air with the gentle breeze that caressed the leaves on the tree. Salvatore sat on one of the garden chairs, his blazer draped over the back as he sat leaning forward, lost in thought. Across from him was his elder brother, Arsenio, a finger to his temple in contemplation and looking between them at the marble and steel chest set the latter had gifted the former on his 29th birthday.His hand hovered over the chessboard, looking around at his possible moves before Salvatore took hold of his rook and moved it across the board to be in place of Arsenio's knight."Check," The mafia boss stated and put the white tile to the side."I found you," The voice had Salvatore look up before a smile split across his face to see his wife making her way to him, dressed in a plain white loose-fitted A-line dress with but
The first thing Salvatore registered upon regaining consciousness was the pounding against his forehead, the ache having him scrunch his eyebrows together before groaning. Then everything hit him all at once: the strong smell of the disinfectant, the sheets beneath his fingertips and the needle in the back of his hand, the mask over his mouth, and the sweat beading his forehead with the light bleeding in through his closed lids.Struggling to open his eyes, he grunted at how heavy they felt and how difficult it was for him to get his body working again like a computer rebooting. It took him a while, but eventually, he managed to open them, bringing his hand up to shield them from the brightness, a figure looming over him suddenly, their faces blurred and their voices muffled. Pulling the oxygen mask off him, he tried to speak, but his throat was parched and he couldn't manage to get a sound across.Apparently, the p