Chapter 50 NOT TODAY
••Roman••
“You didn’t want to come down from the car,” I said calmly, adjusting my grip on her back. “So I carried you.”
Then she gave a small hum that vibrated against my shoulder. Before I could say anything else, she rested her head fully against my back again, the soft weight of her cheek pressing into my jacket.
Then she snored. Loudly.
I froze for half a second, disbelief tugging at me before I let out a quiet breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. Alcohol had completely defeated her. Whatever sharp tongue and stubborn glare she had aimed at me in the car, it was all gone now.
She shifted again, mumbling something unintelligible into my shoulder. I tightened my hold automatically, one arm firm around her thighs, the other steady at her back, adjusting her so her head wouldn’t loll uncomfortably. Her hair tickled my jaw, smelling faintly like her shampoo mixed with alcohol.
I carried her into the room, kicked the door shut with my foot, and lowered her onto the bed carefully. She barely stirred when I removed her shoes, and tugged her coat off her arms. She only groaned softly when I pulled the blanket over her.
She rolled onto her side, hair falling into her face, mouth slightly open like none of the chaos from earlier had ever happened. She looked soft and vulnerable in a way she would hate if she knew I was seeing it.
I stood there longer than necessary, watching her. Part of me wanted to brush her hair back, to tuck the strands away from her eyes, but I stopped myself. I had no right to touch her like that. Not when things were already complicated enough.
Then I turned away and opened my laptop. I had a lot of work waiting to be attended to.
But even as I worked, my eyes kept drifting back to her.
Two days later
••Luciana••
Today was our last day in New York.
Yesterday had been a complete blur of regret and pain. I had a terrible hangover. My head had felt like it was being punished personally for my poor life choices. Every time I moved even slightly, it throbbed in protest.
Roman had left early for business, and I hadn’t even tried to follow. The curtains were drawn, the room dim and quiet, and I had zero motivation to be a functional human being.
When I finally opened my eyes wide, my head throbbed again like it was reminding me not to get too comfortable. I turned to check my phone on the bedstand. Next to it I saw a bottle of water and some meds.
Roman.
May his soul be blessed. Doesn’t it feels strange he has been acting sweet recently?
The realization made my chest do something stupid and warm. I shook my head like that would knock the thought loose.
Throughout the whole day, I stayed wrapped in blankets, Netflix playing, and my chocolate milk within reach like a lifeline.
By the time Roman came back late that night and told me we were leaving the next day, sadness had settled quietly in my chest.
I wanted more time. More moments where I wasn’t someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, someone tied to duty. Since I couldn’t change our departure, I decided to make the best out of my last day at New York.
At breakfast, I stared at my plate longer than necessary before speaking. The eggs were getting cold. The coffee smelled amazing. Roman was reading something on his tablet like he always did.
“I’ve always wanted to try skating.”
Roman lifted his gaze from his cup of coffee. “Skating.”
“Yes.”
“On ice.”
“Exactly.”
“You?”
“Yes, Roman,” I replied calmly. “Me.”
The questions were getting annoying. As if I was speaking another language he didn't understand.
He leaned back a bit, studying my face like I had just announced I wanted to skydive without a parachute. “You can’t go by yourself.”
“I’m fine with that if it means I get to go.”
“You might fall or hurt yourself.”
“I’m not worried.”
“We’ll go together.”
I grinned. “Do you know how to skate?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What is it that a respectable mafia man cannot do?”
I chuckled. “A lot of bravado without evidence.”
“You do hurt me.”
Still, we set off.
The cold air hit my face the second we stepped outside, sharp and refreshing. The rink was busy, full of couples, kids, tourists. Laughter echoed everywhere. It felt… normal. Like a slice of life that didn’t belong to us but that we were borrowing for a moment.
As soon as we stepped onto the rink, Roman glided as if he were born to skate. His poise made it look so easy, like gravity personally favored him. I hardly had a chance to tease him when, out of nowhere, he began skating backward towards me, arms extended. “Come on.”
“I don’t trust you.” I responded, gripping the rail like my life depended on it.
“You married me.”
“That’s not quite the same.”
He grasped my hands before I could argue any further, his grip both sturdy and gentle, anchoring me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. My feet immediately began to tremble like traitors.
“I won’t let you fall,” he assured me.
And true to his word, he didn’t.
Each time I wobbled, his support was there. When I completely lost balance, his arm wrapped around my waist like it was instinct. He guided me slowly, patiently, voice low and steady near my ear.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “You’re doing well.”
I was not. But I liked the way he said it.
The closeness did things to me. His hand at my waist. His fingers laced with mine. The ease with which he moved us together like this was nothing new. Like touching me had always been allowed.
My cheeks felt hot. I knew they were red.
When we stopped, I pulled back slightly. “I need a break.”
He tilted his head. “Why are your cheeks like that?"
“They’re fine.” I answered almost immediately.
“They’re not.” He insisted.
“Stop looking.”
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
Later, as we skated again, something small landed on my lips. Probably the snow or ice or something. It startled me enough that I gasped.
Roman stopped suddenly and reached up, brushing it away with his thumb.
“Here,” he said quietly.
He leaned in closer than necessary. My breath caught. My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape my body.
For half a second, the world narrowed to just us. It felts as though every other thing stopped and it was just us. My eyelashes blinked, way more than I can control. I wondered what this was going to lead to, and he tilted his head more closer.
Just then, a child crashed into us, laughing loudly as he skated past. I stepped back quickly, my heart racing. Heat flooded my face.
Maybe I imagined it. Maybe he was just trying to blow something from my eyes, or maybe I was reading things that weren’t there.
I cleared my throat, and he turned his face backwards.
Then his phone rang.
Roman cursed under his breath and stepped away to answer it.
Of course.
Some things just weren’t meant to happen today.