“And ‘Elpidio’?” Ally asked. “He was your—”

“Nonno… Mamma’s papa. I never met him, but…” That usual stab dragged through my stomach when I thought of my mamma. It was getting harder and harder to keep all the shit back that surrounded the woman who wanted nothing more than for me to succeed. Instead all I’d done was fail, over and over and over... I’d been an epic fuck-up as her son.

“Querido? Are you okay?” Ally asked me softly. When I met her warm eyes, I knew that she understood who I was thinking about. But I still couldn’t go there yet… not even with Ally.

Not yet.

“My… Mamma used to talk about Nonno all the time. She loved him. She said he was a good hardworking man. I was using the Italian technique, I was using Carrara marble, so his name felt right to use. Fuck, my own papa’s name would only be a curse.”

“Elpidio… It’s perfect, it really it is,” Ally murmured. I could suddenly see the way she was looking at me had changed.

I drew my head back, and asked, “What?”

Ally crawled over me and tucked her head into my neck. She looked like she wanted to say something to me, but for some reason she was holding it back.

“You are so much more than anyone knows. You should give yourself way more credit than you do.”

I didn’t say anything as we lay there. For a long time I thought Ally had fallen asleep until she said, “I’m going to do everything in my power to persuade your brothers to see the man you are today.”

I stilled. “I don’t want them knowing about my sculptures.”

Ally sighed. “I know. I won’t pretend to understand why, but I accept it… reluctantly. But I’m still gonna try everything else.”

I felt my heart would burst through my chest as she said that. Ally’s cell beeped. In a flash she was across the room opening it up.

Relief spread over her face.

“Good news?” I asked.

“It’s Rome. Molly’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna have a tough couple of months, but for now, she’s good.”

Ally walked back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Looking back at me, she said, “I’m tired, but at the same time, I don’t think I can sleep.”

“I got an idea then,” I said, and I watched as fire lit in Ally’s dark eyes.

“Yeah?” she said and turned her body to crawl over me. After she’d kissed me, I held her head in my hands and whispered, “Play for me.”

Ally reared back in surprise. “What?”

Feeling like a damn pussy, I said, “Play the piano… for me.”

Ally’s expression changed from surprised to embarrassed to wonder. “You want me to play the piano for you?”

I threw her a single nod. Ally cast a glance to the piano, then back to me. “What do you want me to play?”

“What you played me before… Kiss the Rain.”

Her smile washed away any embarrassment I felt and she said, “You remembered the title?”

Pulling her face in to press kisses all over her cheeks and neck, I whispered, “I remember everything, every single fucking thing from that night. Every single fucking thing…”

Ally, surprising me to all hell, wrapped her hands around my neck and squeezed me in the biggest damn hug I’d ever felt… I never ever wanted to let her go.

When she released me, Ally said, “You’re in every part of my heart, Mr. Carillo, in every single part…” before getting up from the bed, leaving me lying here like a dumbstruck fool.

What does she mean by that… That I’m in all of her heart?

Before I had a chance to think it over, I heard Ally sit at the piano and test out the keys like she did the last time. There she sat, naked, her tanned skin flushed, her dark hair falling to her waist.

Eyes closed, her hands stretched over the keys. Then the opening chords to that song fucking sent an arrow through my heart. The image of my woman sweetly smiling at me with her chin on her fist, big brown eyes watching me, like no one had ever looked at me before, filled my mind.

My hands itched to create.

My heart raced for me to sketch.

As Ally’s eyes closed and a happy smile spread on her lips, I picked up a pad of sketch paper and a pencil from my bedside table…

And I started to draw… to draw the outline of the only sculpture I knew I would never tire of staring at.

Chapter Eighteen

Ally

“That’s it, guys. The only two things left for me to do is get the final text boards drawn up and to arrange for the cleaners to polish the gallery until it damn near sparkles!”

I stood in the center of the art gallery with my team. I stared at the finished exhibition with a lump in my throat… it was simply stunning.

Axel’s pieces exquisitely occupied the white open space; each one at a different height, each one lit perfectly with colored lighting or with subtle painted backdrops. It was a journey, a journey through the complex tortured emotions of a sculptor... a sculptor who had yet to see its beauty… yet to see his heart-aching creations on display for the all the world to see.

As my team gathered around, a soft applause rang out as we all congratulated one another on a job well done. But a louder clap came from the rear. As we turned round Vin Galanti emerged through the black curtains with tears streaming down his face.

He was back from New York in time for the opening night, now only in a few days’ time.