Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1)(79)

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

I cringed at his use of that endearment. It reminded me of Gian, and I didn’t want to think about him tonight. I wanted to celebrate a successful opening and the resurrection of my career. I stepped out of the dressing room and saw him.

“Evangeline.” Gian’s smoky voice raced through me like a shot of morphine.

“Gian,” his name rolled off my lips with longing, regret, and more than a little hope. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t miss your opening night.” He handed me a bouquet of stargazer lilies. “These are for you.”

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” I brought them to my nose, inhaling their sweetly fragrant scent. “I hope you didn’t fall asleep.”

“No. I barely blinked.” He chuckled, and then his eyes softened, and they looked like warm honey. He brushed his fingertips along the tip of my nose, and I swayed toward him. It’d been too long since he’d touched me. “You had pollen on your face.”

“Oh.” I smiled through hollow ache in my chest. “Thanks.”

We lapsed into silence, and I twirled the bouquet in my hand.

“You were beautiful out there. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and I’m pretty sure nobody else could either.”

My heart squeezed. “Thanks. Does that mean I changed your mind about musicals?”

His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. “Only if you’re on the stage.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I better get going. Carmela said the cast is having a big party tonight to celebrate the opening.”

“Yeah.”

“Take care, sweetheart, and don’t be a stranger. Carmela misses you. So does my mom. I think they’re planning to catch one of your shows next week.”

The minute he turned his back to me, my eyes blurred with tears.

Oh, shit. Why now? Why when I finally had my life together.

“Wait, Gian.”

He halted mid-step, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to let you know you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. I didn’t mean what I said that night at Carmine’s, and I um…” I licked my lips, waiting, hesitating, not knowing if I should continue. Was I too late? He didn’t say he missed me. He said his mom and sister missed me.

His face was blank.

“I still love you.”

“You do?” His hands in his pockets, he turned to face me.

“I do.” He didn’t respond right away, so I kept rambling. “I didn’t mean what I said that night. It was stupid and hurtful. I mean, I don’t like what you do, that much is true. But I still want you in my life. I know there’s chance you’ve moved on, and you’re done with me…maybe we could still be friends?”

He sighed, and his body sagged, drawing attention to the shadows under his eyes. “Is that what you want? To be friends and nothing else?”

I dropped my arms, and the flowers brushed the side of my pants. “I’ll take whatever you’re offering. It’s up to you. I screwed up and didn’t fight for us when it counted.” I pushed my hair away from my face. “For what it’s worth, I really thought I was doing the right thing.”

He grabbed my hand and knitted our fingers together. “And what was that?”

“I was ashamed of my family, and I felt guilty for putting you in a position where you had to choose between your family and me. I refused to let you sacrifice anything for me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So you made the choice for me?”

I dropped my gaze to the floor. “I guess so.”

“Well, you chose wrong.”

“I-I did?”

“I love you, Evie. I would’ve found a way to make things work. Your dad’s demands were just that: demands. There’s always room for negotiation. You walked away without giving us a chance to fix things.”

“What now?”

“You tell me. The ball is in your court.”

I tilted my head to the side. “It is?”

“What are you going to do, sweetheart? Are you going to fight for us, or are you going to run away again?”

I didn’t have to think about it. I knew exactly what I wanted. “I want to be with you. I want to fight for us. I want a second chance, one that starts with truths instead of lies. Life instead of death. Love instead of fear.”

A huge grin spread across his face. “Thank God,” he murmured. Then, his lips crashed against mine.

“Just so you know,” he whispered next to my ear, a few minutes later. “I won’t let you go again.”

“I don’t want you to.”