She gasps against me and I place my palm against the back of her head, holding her to me. “She’s not going anywhere,” I say through gritted teeth.
He gives me a quick smile.
“But she is. I’m calling immigration. Marco will tell me where she’s staying. You can run and hide if you want Ruby, but eventually you’ll be found. Might as well give yourself up now.”
“Please,” I whisper, I beg. “Please don’t do this. I love her.”
“That’s why I’m doing it. Because you don’t deserve it. You can’t have everything, Luciano. That’s not how life works. Someone has to keep the balance.” He pauses. “You know, all this time I tried to keep things fair. It wasn’t fair that you had the talent and my own son, my own flesh and blood, didn’t. Then you had to push your luck. You had to go after the things he had. If I didn’t keep the balance here, I’m sure the man upstairs would.”
He starts walking slowly toward the door, pressing the spare key onto a side table.
“I’m going to make the call when I get somewhere safe. If I were you, I would pack your bags and get ready to go on the next flight out of here back to the states. In the meantime, enjoy your sweet time together.”
He opens the door and steps out.
The door closes behind him.
I don’t want to let go of her, but I have to.
I immediately run for the door, locking it.
I turn around to see Ruby collapse to the ground, crying, mouth frozen open in a soundless scream, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Ruby,” I cry out, hurrying over to her, sinking to my knees, pulling her into me.
We collapse onto the floor, holding each other.
Jesus Cristo.
What have I done?
She cries into me, sobs shaking her body, and even though I’m holding onto her as hard as I can, I wish someone was holding onto me.
I’ve never felt so helpless, hopeless, lost.
Lost and stumbling through it all.
I want to be lost and stumbling with you.
Ruby’s words from long ago sink in deep.
“I can’t lose you,” I cry out, my chest feeling like it’s being swallowed in agony. “I can’t lose you again.”
My own tears are spilling from my eyes, falling onto her like sporadic rain. I hold her even tighter, as if I can press her into my skin, like I could absorb her, keep me inside me forever.
This can’t be it.
This can’t be the end when it’s only just the beginning.
“Fuck!” I scream, my voice scarring my throat, the sound of pure grief being ripped out of me, hooks and all.
I cry.
I cry and I hold her, rocking back and forth on my apartment floor in Madrid, realizing how much different this one hits. How much different it hurts than before.
Now I know I have her love.
Now I know I want her future.
I was supposed to be in it.
“Ruby, Ruby, please marry me.”
The words spill out of my mouth.
She stops sobbing, stills in her arms. Raises her head to look at me, her eyes red and in so much pain. “What?” she asks, breathless.
“Marry me,” I tell her. “Please be my wife.”
She stares at me in disbelief, her cheeks, nose and mouth wet. She swallows thickly. “That’s not going to change anything, Luciano. I’m still going to get deported.”
“I know,” I tell her, pressing my thumbs against her cheeks as I hold her. “I know it won’t change anything in that way. It doesn’t matter. I want to marry you.”
She blinks at me, her lashes wet. “Are you sure?”
I can’t help but smile at her, even though it makes my head spin. “I’m more than sure. I want you to be my wife. I want to give you children. I want to live with you, wherever you want, have a future with you, the whole fucking future. Lost and stumbling, you said it yourself. That’s us. Together. Always.”
She looks down for a moment, her chest heaving.
In the past I would have been worried about her silence, worried that I pushed things too fast, came on too strong.
But I’m not anymore.
She’s what I want.
I’m not fucking around.
She licks her lips and glances up at me, brows raised. “Yes?”
“Is that a question?”
Hope dances in my heart.
She breaks into a grin. “It’s not a question. It’s a yes.”
“You’ll marry me?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll marry you.”
I laugh. It’s sharp and loud and full of joy, straight from my soul.
I kiss her. Hard. Soft. Full of love for her.
Her hands go to my face, cupping it, holding me.
For a moment it’s pure joy. It’s the most honest, deep, pure love I’ve ever felt in this world.
For a moment it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and then some.
It’s everything.
I’m crying, she’s crying, and it’s sweet and it’s happy and my heart is going to burst.
And then her tears turn wild.
Raw.
Rivers of sorrow.
She presses herself into me, her hands at my shoulder, digging in hard, holding me tight as the sobs wrack through her, and I’m hit by it too.
Realizing the joy is tempered by the cold, hard truth.
She has to leave.
She still has to leave.
“I can’t do it,” she cries out. “Three years. I’ll be banned for three years. I can’t do it.”
“We’ll make it work,” I tell her. “I promise you we will. I’ll come and see you. No one can stop me from doing that.”
“You have your team, your game.”
Fuck.
Everything I ever wanted.
The winning team, the cups, the status.
All my dreams came true, at a cost.
The cost of that one final dream.
The one that counted the most.
“You have to stay here,” she says, taking in quick, panicky breaths. “There’s no way around it, you have to be here with your team and I have to go home. How am I going to do this without you?”
I don’t have any answer for her.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this without her.
But we have to find a way.
That’s all we have.
“It’s going to work,”
