Pretty Little Lies, page 31
Finally, after agonizing minutes of being unable to speak or breathe, I manage to calm myself down enough to stem my torrent of tears. I force deep, shuddering breaths into my lungs to steady myself. Then I pull away from Nicolo.
I can see the hope leave his eyes as he lets me go willingly. His hands slide from my shoulders, his fingers tightening almost reflexively around my arms before he forces himself to let me go.
“Please, Anya.” His words are barely above a whisper as the fight seems to leave him all at once, hunching his shoulders in a sign of defeat. “I would do anything to be a part of you and Clara’s life.”
My heart squeezes at the promise behind those words, and I step forward to fling my arms around Nicolo’s neck and kiss him. He freezes, seeming momentarily stunned by my response, and then his hands press against my back, pulling me to him as he holds me close. His lips mold eagerly to mine as he takes my affection as I sign that he’s forgiven.
When we break our kiss, at last, we’re both breathless, and a slow smile spreads across Nicolo’s face as he combs a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he asks hopefully.
I laugh breathlessly. “Yes, I forgive you. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he assures me fiercely, his eyes roaming over my face as if to soak up every detail of me. “You did what you thought was best for our daughter, and I couldn’t ask for more than that. God, I love you, Anya.”
My heart swells with joy at those words. “I love you too,” I whisper as fresh tears sting my eyes.
Nicolo brushes a soft kiss across my lips before pressing his forehead to mine.
“Can I meet my little girl? Properly this time?” he asks gently.
A wide smile splits my face. “Yes, of course.” I pull Nicolo the rest of the way into my aunt’s apartment and close the door behind him. “Clara, Aunt Patritsyia, will you come out, please?” I call.
After a moment’s hesitation, Clara’s door opens, and my aunt peeks her head out to see if everything is alright. I give her a reassuring nod. Leading Clara out by the hand, my aunt meets us halfway as I usher Nicolo closer.
Clara hides shyly behind her auntie’s skirt as she looks up at Nicolo, confusion in her eyes. Nicolo kneels down to her level and gives her a soft, comforting smile.
“Hello again, Clara. Do you remember me?”
“You’re the man from the park.”
“That’s right,” he says encouragingly, and that bolsters Clara’s confidence enough for her to step out from behind her auntie.
“Clara,” I say, kneeling as well and taking my daughter’s hands.
She steps close to me, seeking comfort from her mom, and I wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her to me.
“Clara, this man is your father,” I say gently. “He and I made you together, and he wanted to meet you.”
“Why?” Clara asks, her innocence shining through.
“Because, Clara, I think you’re very special, and I would love to become your friend. Would you like that?” Nicolo’s tone is so tender. Filled with a sense of wonder, it’s the closest I’ve ever heard him come to being emotional.
“Do you like dance parties?” Clara asks gravely, as though her decision hinges entirely on how he answers her.
Nicolo releases a deep chuckle. “I love dance parties,” he assures her.
“Wanna have one right now?” she offers as her usual outgoing self comes out in full force.
“Definitely,” Nicolo agrees.
“I’ll put on the music,” I offer, heading to the stereo and inserting Clara’s favorite CD.
Clara springs into action as the music starts, and my heart melts as Nicolo joins her. She giggles every time he mimics her dance moves, and that only encourages him to try more of them. Soon, the two of them are twirling and jumping, not so much dancing as rolling around the room.
“You’re alright?” Aunt Patritsiya asks quietly as she steps up beside me to watch their dance party.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Aunt Patritsiya. I’m sure I scared the living daylights out of you. I just panicked. But we talked it out, and I think everything is going to be fine.” I smile as Clara releases another bout of contagious giggles. “More than fine.”
“Mama, come join us!” Clara demands as she jumps in place, looking impressively like a bunny.
“I’m coming!” I call, striding forward to meet them.
Clara grips my fingers with one hand and wraps her other hand around Nicolo’s pinky and ring finger–the most she can grip in her tiny fist. She starts to turn us in circles, skipping along as she does. When my eyes meet Nico’s, I’m astounded by the intense love and joy pouring from his hazel gaze.
All at once, it’s like my life has fallen into place, each stray puzzle piece coming together to form a beautiful picture. I have everything I’ve ever wanted, and suddenly I’m filled with hope at what our future together will bring.
EPILOGUE
ANYA
Six weeks later
I take a deep breath, settling into my pose in the utter silence of the auditorium. The classical sound of a violin starts, announcing the beginning of my choreographed number for the winter showcase, and I feel Robbie come to life behind me. Then the contemporary beat strikes, and I spring into action, transforming from a statue into a living, breathing piece of art.
The hush of the audience registers in the back of my mind. Still, I stay focused, rising up onto my toes as I dance across the stage, twirling around Robbie as he leaps into the air at just the right time. After months of grueling practice and long hours in the studio, we’re ready for this moment.
I’m so proud of how far my young dance partner has come, in strength, balance, and movement. Where once, he was somewhat of an awkward teen, not quite sure of his body and how it might work with mine, we now feel as effortlessly as one, as I once did with Fin. And as I sprint toward Robby for our first lift, leaping into the air, his arm catches me, using my inertia to push me high over his head.
For a moment, I hang there, suspended like a statue on its marble stand. Then Robbie releases me, letting me fall a split second before transitioning into our second lift. My feet touch down as if onto a cloud, and I spin away from him, my arms arching up around my head.
The music starts to crescendo, and I shift into my chaînés as I find Robbie as my spot. Every time I reach this point in the song, I think of Nicolo and that electrifying moment in the studio where I danced for him alone. The memory fills my motion with poignancy, and when I come to a halt in front of Robbie, my leg extends back in a deep split. My heart flutters in the sudden absence of music.
And then, as the beat comes to life once again, so do I, weaving my way through the choreographed piece as though it were a part of my very speech. I could do this in my sleep. In fact, over the past week, I think I have practiced the routine several times in my dreams. Nicolo tells me I’ve even started doing ballet moves beneath the covers in the middle of the night. Though I’m not sure, I’m inclined to believe that.
It’s bittersweet as the music slowly draws to a close. I arch backward over Robbie’s arm as I’m suspended lifelessly once again, a doll unable to dance without my music. The auditorium bursts to life with applause, and after holding our pose for one last second, Robbie brings me back to a stand.
When we take our bow, my eyes skim the crowd that lies in shadow before me. It’s so dim compared to the brilliant stage lights that I can barely make out Nicolo’s beaming face, and next to him, Clara and my aunt. Each cheers louder than the next, warming my heart with their approval.
Robbie and I take one last bow and exit stage right, making room for the next performance.
“We did it!” Robbie bursts as soon as we duck behind the curtain.
I can’t help smiling from ear to ear. “We did.”
“Oh, man. That was amazing!” Bouncing with enthusiasm, Robbie leads the way backstage.
“Beautiful, you two,” Whitney compliments with a warm smile.
“You stayed to watch!” I pull my friend into a hug.
“Of course.” She gives me a squeeze before releasing me. “You were breathtaking.”
“So were you,” I say.
I turn to head toward the dressing rooms and am greeted by the sight of Clara leading Nicolo by the pinky as she makes her way toward me.
“Hi, baby girl.”
I bend, opening my arms to her, and Clara releases Nicolo’s hand to close the distance between us. Tutu or not, she doesn’t care, and her legs and arms wrap around me like a monkey as I scoop her up.
“You were incredible,” Nicolo says, his eyes dancing with a fire that makes my stomach quiver. Leaning in, he wraps his arms around Clara and me as he presses a chaste kiss to my lips.
Anticipation builds inside me at the silent promise of what’s to come later tonight. If I had hopes for what my relationship with Nicolo might become, we have soared above and beyond those by leaps and bounds. I’m blown away by the level of commitment he has shown Clara and me since the day he found out about her.
Trips to the zoo, ice skating, and hot chocolate at Millenium Park, he’s been a part of all our fun family activities. And more than that. My heart swells with love as I think about our simple movie night last night, curled up by his gas fireplace as we watched Frozen for the third time in as many weeks. It’s Clara’s new favorite, and Nicolo has endured watching it on repeat like a true champ.
He’s even spent considerable time winning over my aunt, who’s given him the most challenging time, presiding over our relationship with skepticism until Nicolo could prove he meant every word he said. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know he did.
At times, it can still be hard to wrap my mind around the fact that he is the eldest son born to a mafia family. I know he makes money through less-than-honest means. And while I still struggle with his life in the mafia, I can’t see leaving him for anything. I love too much about him to even consider it, and now I can both follow my dreams and be happy with the man I love. He’s the father of my child, and every day, he becomes a better man.
With the winter showcase over, we now have three weeks of uninterrupted vacation time together as a family, and I look forward to it.
“What do you say I go get changed, and then we head home?” I suggest, giving Clara an Eskimo kiss.
“Yeah!” she shouts enthusiastically.
I set her gently on the floor, and her tiny hand wraps around Nicolo’s pinky once more. Every time, it makes my heart ache with happiness to see how close they’ve become in such a short time. Clara loves her papa, though she always assures me in a stage whisper that I’m still her favorite.
It never fails to make Nicolo laugh. “As is only right,” he agrees. “Your mom is what makes the sun shine and the birds sing.”
“Really?” Clara asked in awe the first time he said it.
“No, baby girl. He only means that I’m important to you both.”
Still, those words melt me into a puddle every time. I would never have thought Nicolo could be so romantic. Charming, I never doubted. But I’m astounded by how tender and loving he’s proven to be. From a callous, ruthless bully, Nicolo has transformed into a man with incredible depth. I’ve loved every minute of getting to know more about him. Whoever would have guessed that my gut instinct back in high school had been right all along? We are something special together.
More importantly, I think we might just stand the test of time.
Want the next installment in this sexy saga? Get Pretty Little Toy here. Want more Nicolo and Ana? Get a sizzling hot bonus scene here.
Ivy Thorn, Pretty Little Lies
