Page 112 of Reckless Need
When she pulls back just enough to speak, her breath mingles with mine. "Yes."
The word is barely a whisper but it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
"Yes to all of it. The good days and the bad days and everything in between." She cups my face in her hands. "I love you, Marco Conti. Even when you're overprotective and bossy and trying to force-feed me like a baby bird."
I laugh and kiss her again. She melts into me like she was made to fit there.
Behind us, Vito clears his throat. "Congratulations. Now get out of my office before Rina hears and starts planning a wedding before you've even picked a ring."
Elena turns in my arms without letting go. "Thank you, Vito. For everything."
"Don't thank me. Just be happy." His voice softens. "Your mother would be so proud of you, Elena. Of the woman you've become."
Fresh tears spill down her cheeks but she's smiling. "I hope so."
We leave hand in hand. Down the hallway. Into the elevator.
Elena reaches past me and presses the button for the lobby instead of our floor.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
She looks up at me with mischief dancing in her eyes—the first real spark of her old self I've seen since I found her in that cell. "Plant shopping."
"Plant shopping."
"I need more greenery for our apartment. Plus I saw this gorgeous monstera at the nursery a while back and I've been thinking about it ever since." She's already pulling out her phone to look up addresses. "There's a place in Brooklyn that has the best selection. Oh! And we should stop for pastries on the way. I'm starving."
My chest tightens with something that feels suspiciously like joy. This is the Elena I fell in love with. The one who drags me to plant stores and lectures me about proper watering schedules. The one who got excited about croissants and new leaves unfurling.
She's still here. Bruised and scarred but still here.
"Whatever you want, little fox."
The elevator doors open to the lobby. Afternoon sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Elena steps out first and I follow.
She doesn't let go of my hand.
We walk out into the afternoon. The city bustles around us—cars honking, people rushing past, the smell of roasting chestnuts from a vendor on the corner.
Normal. Ordinary. Perfect.
Everything that happened—the kidnapping, the assault, the violence—it doesn't disappear. The scars remain. They'll always remain. Some days will be harder than others. Some nights she'll wake up terrified and I'll have to remind her where she is. Who she's with.
But we'll face those days together.
Because we're not just our trauma. We're also this. Two people who found each other in the darkness and chose to walk toward the light.
Elena tilts her face up to the sun and smiles. Really smiles. Then she tugs on my hand.
"Come on, slowpoke. That monstera isn't going to buy itself."
