Out of the Dark (24 page)

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Authors: April Emerson

BOOK: Out of the Dark
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He pulls me close as we dance. He leads, and I follow.

I force myself to not feel like a stranger in his arms. I push the events of the past two days into a vault in my mind. I can almost hear the click as it shuts. I glance to the top of the stairs and see Enzo watching us from the shadows. His eyes are solemn, and my heart is breaking. I bury my face in Stefan’s chest.

Chapter Sixteen
 

There’s nothing left; no sign of life lingers here. The trees and the grapevines are bare. Each day, the air gets colder and the landscape grows more lifeless as winter continues its descent upon Ravine Creek.

In my heart, I echo these drab and dreary visions. The life has been forced out of me and replaced with a chill. The memory of warmth is distant and unrecognizable. I’m living a lie. I’m not in love with my fiancé, I can’t let myself love the man I belong with, and I’m afraid to leave.

Stefan tries to understand my moods. He attributes my withdrawal to the loss of my mother.

I feel that brutal loss, too, but that’s not why I refuse to let him make love to me. It’s because I don’t want anyone that close to me ever again.

Anyone except Enzo.

At some point, I know I’ll have to give in to Stefan. I’m his fiancée, after all. I’m just not ready to face that farce yet. I can only think of Enzo. Of his passionate and loving face lingering over mine in the darkness of his hotel room. Of his dejected and lost expression when I caught him watching me dance with Stefan the night we returned from Michigan. I have shed tears over these visions. If only we could leave.

If only Stefan would let me
.

But these things will never happen. They can never be.

For weeks now, I’ve kept my distance from Enzo, and he’s done the same, but it’s so cold and I’m so lonely without him.

This morning, I left Stefan lying beneath the down comforter in our cozy bedroom. Butterflies ran rampant inside me when I entered the kitchen, hoping to find Enzo there, but he rarely is there anymore and this morning is no different. Instead, the room is hollow and vacant, just like me.

When we do see each other, Enzo is pleasant and polite but not his typical warm and caring self. No trace of the man that carried me through the hardest time of my life remains. He’s acting, and so am I.

There are days when it seems easy, and there are days when it’s hard, but today, I just can’t do it. I can’t take it anymore. I have to see him.

I spend a lot of my time on the porch with Nora and Gemma, or alone, snuggled under a blanket, and that’s where I am when I decide I’m going down to Cuore della Terra today. I’m going to see Enzo and ask him for a job.

It may not be the best idea, but this way I know I’ll see him once in a while. There’s also the possibility that it will make things much worse for us, but at least I’ll know how Enzo feels when I present him with my application. If he accepts it, then he misses me as much as I miss him. If he doesn’t, then he wants to keep this distance between us. Regardless of whether or not it’s a smart move, I can’t keep going on like this, and I don’t see how he can either. It could be a refuge—a legitimate way for us to be together. It could be a place where we can talk to each other without feeling afraid of letting on about our feelings.

Away from Stefan’s watchful eye
.

I keep repeating these things as I march upstairs to Stefan’s office.

The door is shut, but I can hear him talking and assume he’s on the phone.

“Rocco, this has all been explained. I know what Alfonso’s wishes are, and I’m not defying him by increasing your responsibilities. This is how I want it. Do you understand? Very good. Yes. Goodbye.”

I knock.

“Come in.”

I force a smile on my face—an expression Stefan hasn’t seen from me in quite some time.

“Darling, I was just thinking about you.”

“Stefan, I’ve—we spoke about this before, and I feel like it’s the right thing for me to do right now . . .”

He approaches me. “What is it?”

“I want to work. I want to see if I can get a job at Cuore della Terra like we talked about.”

“You want to work? I don’t remember you saying that, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. If it’s my permission you seek, you have it. Lorenzo’s in charge, as you know, so it’s up to him if he’ll hire you. I know he’s got Natalie working there, and I’m not sure he needs another waitress, but you go ahead and give it a shot.”

I wasn’t asking for his permission, and his condescending tone infuriates me, but I don’t show it. “Okay. Well, we’ll see, I guess.”

Stefan and I stand beside the window. The glass is frosty from the cold outside.

He kisses my forehead and moves closer. He slides his arms down my back as he embraces me, and I can feel that he’s hard, that he wants me right now. He begins to kiss my neck, and I try to remember a time when I wanted him this way.

I try to erase what’s now written on my heart, but I can’t. “Stefan . . .” I grab his wrists to remove his hands.

Usually, he lets me go when I refute him, but today he doesn’t. “Please. Please let me touch you. I know you’re hurting, but it’s been so long. I miss you . . .”

His touch makes me cringe. “Stefan, I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

I push him away and he relents.

It feels like I have little tiny creatures crawling all over my skin, down my arms, the back of my neck, across my stomach, and on my legs.

I rush out of the room with tears streaming down my face and take a deep breath once I’m outside in the frigid air.

The sky is gray and dead leaves crunch beneath my feet as I shuffle down the path through the vineyard to the bar.

I’m afraid Enzo will say no.

I’m afraid Enzo will say yes.

I pass the oak tree and the bench where we kissed for the first time, and it’s like an old friend that I haven’t seen for a while and miss.

As I get closer, I spot Icarus sleeping beside the door to the bar.

He wakes as I approach, rises, and licks my hand.

When I enter the bar, I find it busy but not crowded. There are sections of obvious tourists, but the locals outnumber the tourists this time of year. Natalie seems happy, smiling and talking, as she works the bar with Enzo, who is bent over some paperwork beside her.

I take a deep breath.

Even if Enzo does let me take this job, how will I deal with Natalie? Can I handle watching her flirt with him?

I know that my being here is a mistake. I want to leave, but I feel paralyzed by my desire to see Enzo and my envy of Natalie.

She bends down to whisper to him, and Enzo turns his head to see me standing here. He doesn’t look at Natalie.

She turns to see what he’s looking at and finds me. Her face falls.

Enzo says something to her, smiles, and then walks out from behind the bar.

He moves like honey dripping out of a half-empty bottle, and I’m impatient for his arrival but enjoying the sight of him.

He strides toward me in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt.

I see him fighting to conceal what I assume is joy, or relief, and I feel it, too.

“Hello, Cari.”

His voice pulls me closer. “I’d like to talk to you,” I tell him.

“Okay. Let’s take a walk.” He moves past me to the door.

I follow behind, dizzy from the rush of seeing him and the chance at being alone with him.

When we get outside, Icarus rises and falls in step with us. I struggle to keep up as Enzo walks up the path on his long legs and turns into the now fruitless vineyard.

Once we’re concealed between the snarled grapevines, he stops and turns toward me. Neither of us move as we stare at each other.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I want a job. I wanted to ask you if you need any help at the bar. I’d like to work there.”

He folds his arms across his chest and his thumb comes up to his lips. He nibbles it, and I stare at his lips. “That’s what you want to talk about? That’s all?”

The look in his eyes is soft, but I still feel the accusation and interrogation. I look toward the horizon and then over my shoulder. There’s no one else here.

Just us
.

I move toward him. “Enzo . . .”

He drops his hand and reaches for me.

I entwine my fingers with his, and we walk together through the dead and brittle vineyard.

I watch his face as we walk.

He watches the ground.

I feel him squeeze my hand, and I squeeze back.

“I missed you.”

He smiles. “I missed you, too.”

He reaches out with his other hand and scrapes it along the dry, empty branches that were once overflowing with a fruitful bounty. “These vines look still—they look lifeless, but they’re not. In places that we can’t see, they’re changing. The roots are still reaching deep into the earth, feeding and growing and living. We just can’t see it happening.”

He’s speaking about the plants, but I can tell he’s trying to say something else, trying to reveal something to me.

“Do you really want this job?”

We stop walking.

“Yes, I do.”

He looks into my eyes and brushes my hair behind my ear. “Then it’s yours.” He swallows, hard, and his jaw clenches.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I rise on my toes to kiss his cheek, but he turns his head so my lips touch his. I know it’s not smart, out in the open like this, but the sun is setting and it gives the illusion of safety. I slide my hand up his neck, into his hair, and deepen the kiss. It’s wonderful, it’s everything . . . but it’s momentary.

He lets me go and scans the horizon, looking for witnesses. He finds none and relaxes his body before stroking my cheek with his fingers. “I’m gonna need you at the bar tomorrow. In fact, I think I’m gonna need you to work every day this week.” He smirks.

The lifeless cold that has been such a plague rushes out of my body, and even though I’m standing in this gray place, I feel as if the sun is shining down on me. I feel happy. I feel hope, however misguided it may be.

That night, I find Enzo in the kitchen. For the first time in weeks, he’s cooking with Lucy and Nora at his side.

The whole family comes together to eat dinner for the first time since my return.

Enzo seems like himself again, and the pain of not being able to live the life that I want is subdued, pushed away like raked up leaves, and overshadowed by the unspoken agreement Enzo and I made today. Consequences be damned, we want to be together, even if it has to be in secret.

Stefan is thrilled to see me smiling, which he probably believes is the result of his giving me permission to work, thereby providing a distraction from my grief. It’s also another reason for him to sing the generous praises of the nephew he loves so much.

After dinner, Stefan pats Enzo on the back, thanking him for giving me a job and giving me something to look forward to.

That night, I lay in bed beside Stefan as he reads, and I stare at the television, watching nothing in particular.

I’m restless. I get up and put on my robe and slippers. Not sure where I’m heading, I tell Stefan that I’m going to get a glass of water, but once I’m in the hall, I find myself staring at Enzos’s bedroom door and the lack of light coming from underneath it.

He’s clearly not there.

Probably out like he has been every night
.

I hate it, but I can’t be angry with him. I’m sure it’s hard for him to sleep just feet away from me. It’s hard for me, too.

I decide to visit Nonna. I need to think of something else for a while, and she has a knack for cheering me up. When I reach the top of the stairs, however, I hear Enzo’s voice.

He’s home after all
.

I breathe a soft sigh of relief and listen to him talking to his grandmother.

“She’s like someone you
wish
you knew. It’s like she’s a dream. Do you know what I mean?” Enzo asks.

“Not really, dear. What’s this girl’s name anyway?”

“That’s not important. Never mind.
You’re
the only woman in my life, Nonna.”

She laughs.

Her laugh melts into a coughing fit, and I hear Enzo pouring her a glass of water from a pitcher.

“All right, now. That’s enough excitement for you tonight, young lady.” Enzo calms her.

She settles down and they’re quiet for a moment.

“Lorenzo, honey, will you play my song for me?” she asks in a tired voice.

“Sure. I think you may be the last person on earth who owns a record player.”

“Oh, just hush and play it,” she says, coughing again.

The music starts, and I know the song.

So does Enzo.

He begins to sing along. He’s off-key. It’s awful and it’s adorable.

Enzo singing a lullaby to his sick Nonna is something I can’t miss, so I step toward the door unable to help myself. I
have
to see him.

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