Gianni trailed his fingertips along the smooth wood of the pews as he passed toward the front of the cathedral.
The wake was over and the last of the mourners had left. The sanctuary glowed amber and the air was thick with the scent of burning candles, incense, and flowers. He remembered that lilies were her favorite flowers. In the front of cathedral white lilies covered every available surface. And in the center of the cathedral was a dark burnished wood coffin. A large arrangement of the white flowers was placed upon its lid.
Gianni fell to his knees before a small prayer altar ablaze with hundreds of tiny candles. Murmuring an anguished prayer, Gianni lit another candle and remained kneeling.
Natasha was gone, murdered by his blood. And all that remained of her was left in that coffin. It didn't seem real. How could all that she was be contained in that tiny wooden box?
A gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the black garb of a priest.
"My son," the priest murmured.
Gianni wrenched away with a growl. "I'm not your son!" he snarled.
The priest paled and took a step backwards at the burning fury he saw in the young man's eyes.
Gianni stood before the coffin, emotion threatening to overcome him. Rage, loss, and most wholly, guilt. He had flung aside her love out of fear, and now she was dead. She died not knowing that he loved her. He loved her so much, he felt she had taken his very heart with her. And now he lay empty.
He brought his fingers to his lips then pressed his fingers to the smooth surface of the coffin. "Arrivederci, Bella," he whispered before turning to leave.
"My son!" the priest called out. "Have hope!"
Gianni whirled in the aisle to face him and sneered. "It's long since I had any hope." He pointed at the coffin. "Any hope that I had for my life died with her!" He turned on his heel and strode from the cathedral, his footsteps echoing.
"My son!" the priest called after him but Gianni ignored him.
The sky was grey when Gianni left the cathedral and the rain fell in fat heavy drops. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Gianni turned the collar of his jacket up against the rain as he made his way down the steps of the cathedral to his car parked on the curb.
As Gianni settled into the black leather interior of the car and closed the door there was a rapping on the window. The priest.
With a grimace Gianni rolled down the window. "What is it now?" he ground out in irritation.
The priest passed a small envelope through the window. "There is always hope, my son." And then he was gone.
Gianni stared at the envelope in consternation. He opened it carefully. Inside there was one thick white card. There were only two words written upon it in scrawling black letters. She lives.
***
Natasha leaned her head against the window of the airplane as the private plane descended into a small airport in L.A. The feelings she felt were bittersweet. This was her home but her heart was heavy. She hated the way she had left things in Italy.
As Natasha stepped off the plane there was a shriek. A petite blonde girl was running towards her. "Tasha!" the girl squealed as she threw her arms around Natasha in a hug. "You're back!"
Natasha hugged her back and couldn't help smiling and she felt the tension draining out of her. "It's good to see you too, Lacey."
"Oh, my God, Tasha!" Lacey cried. "You have to tell me everything. How was Italy? How were the guys? What did you do?"
A hand came down on Lacey's shoulder. "C'mon Lace. Give her a chance to take a breath."
Natasha looked up. A tall male surfer version of Lacey stood grinning at her. Colin. "Welcome back, Tash," he said softly, his blue eyes assessing her.
He opened his arms with a grin and Natasha practically launched herself at him. Laughing he twirled her around. "Missed you too." He ruffled her hair kissed her cheek.
Lacey was not to be deterred. "So tell me about Italy. Did you meet any cute Italian guys? How's your uncle? Why are you back so soon?"
Natasha's smile faded though she tried valiantly to keep her expression cheerful.
Lacey noticed it right away. "Oh, Tasha." Lacey hugged her best friend. "What's wrong?"
Natasha pulled away slightly and took a deep breath. "Things were just different than I thought they would be."
Lacey's face was immediately sympathetic. Then she brightened suddenly. "I know exactly how to cheer you up."
Natasha grinned at her and lifted one ebony brow. Lacey was an unstoppable for of nature.
Lacey slipped her arm through Natasha's and led her towards Colin's white jeep wrangler parked nearby. "Frappuccinos and shopping are the cure for whatever blues you may have."
Colin snorted back laughter as he picked up Natasha's bags and tossed into the back of the jeep. The three climbed into the jeep and suddenly it was like she'd never left. Natasha leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She was home.
They spent the remainder of the day wandering in and out of shops. Natasha told them about Italy, leaving out anything unpleasant. Finally Colin slipped between the two girls and placed an arm about their shoulders. "As lovely as this has been, ladies, I think I might shoot myself if we go into one more shoe store."
At the end of the day Colin helped Natasha carry her shopping bags and luggage into the spacious loft apartment.
Natasha flicked on the lights. Everything was exactly as she had left it. She took a deep breath and went to one of the tall windows and looked out. Life had gone on without her here. Everything was the same.
Colin set the bags down by the door and came to her side. Taking her hand he turned her to face him. "Tash," he began, his eyes searching her face. "Something's up. I can tell. What happened in Italy? Is there anything I can do?"
Natasha smiled at him. He was so sweet. They hadn't dated in nearly two years and been friends nearly their whole lives, but he was still worried about her. He still cared. She sighed and caught her lip between her teeth. She looked at the floor.
"Natasha," he took her chin in his hand and gently lifted face her to look at him. "You know you can come to me for anything, right?"
Natasha smiled genuinely. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I know, Colin. Thanks, but I'm fine."
He looked at her, his expression unsure. Then he shrugged. "Okay, but call us at home if you need anything."
"Sure." She walked him to the door, closing it and bolting it behind him.
Alone now, she looked around her apartment. Home sweet home, she thought. But somehow it didn't feel quite like home anymore.
***
Gianni stepped off the private jet and into the California sun. She was here somewhere. She wasn't dead. She was alive. For the hundredth time in the past few hours he wondered what he was doing here. She'd made it perfectly clear that she was done with him. He'd hurt her.
