; “They’re new around here, so make sure you take good care of them,” my dad said. “Especially you, Sandro.”
I never understood why I was called out specifically. Maybe it was just because Willow, Ricky, and I were all the same age, or maybe it was because my dad knew that one day, I would come to take his throne. Maybe it was my dad’s tendency to be borderline prophetic in his ability to see what was coming on the horizon, and maybe he knew that one day, I would fall head over heels for that shy little girl he told me to look out for.
Raphael convinced Willow and Ricky to hang around with Gabriel and me, and at first, I was annoyed for the company, but toward the end of the day, the sun was setting, and Gabriel wanted to go onto the tilt-o-whirl. I’d just finished a foot-long chili dog and wasn’t feeling up to the constant spinning, and Willow wasn’t big into the rides, so she also held back. Ricky and Gabriel climbed on while Willow and I watched from the sidelines, and at one point, Ricky went slamming to one side of his car as he blew by, and Willow let out a giggle.
I looked over at her and was struck by nothing short of pure artwork. The setting sun was casting a beautiful, golden outline around her, and her brown hair and blue eyes shone. She looked over at me with a smile, and for the first time in my life, my heart leaped up into my throat. I’d never experienced anything so profound before, and when I went home that night, I asked my dad what that meant, and he just smiled at me.
I met and fell in love with Willow Moretti that day.
I had to muster up everything in my body to ask her out for our first date when I was thirteen and for our first kiss in our garden at the end of our third date. I nearly threw up when I saw her in a dress for the first time for our first high school dance together, and I still had dreams about how beautiful she looked in her coral-colored Cinderella gown for our senior prom.
It probably made me a bad person to experience excitement when Ricky told me that his grandfather had died. I was sad for him, and I’d miss the old man, who’d been a pseudo-father to Willow and Ricky after their dad went to jail to protect mine, but I also knew his funeral would bring Willow home from Philadelphia. I loved spending time with her when she first came home and recreating our first date when she finally agreed to see me again. Proposing to her after I found out she was pregnant was the best day of my life until the day we got married.
I’d known Willow for fifteen years, and I’d loved her for all fifteen. Not once in 5,475 days had I woken up and not had Willow be the first thing on my mind.
So, when I had to sit there and watch her with a gun to her head while she sobbed and made her final devotion to me, something knocked me back into alignment. Fifteen years of loving her crumpled up like a crushed can as I realized that I was about to lose a piece of myself. She had been more than just a friend, a girlfriend, a fiancee, a wife, or the mother of my child. Willow Moretti was my lifeblood. She was more necessary to my well being than air, more than water, and I almost lost her.
“Sandro,” she whined in my arms.
I guided her down onto our bed like she was made of glass. My hands slid up her arms, over her face, down her chest, across her stomach, and down her legs. I kissed her on her lips and on her neck and on her shoulders and on her collarbone. Tears fled from my eyes in an uncontrollable stream, almost as if my brain was still unconvinced she was real—as if it believed that she’d died back in that hedge maze, and I’d finally snapped. I was trying to make her real by feeling all of her.
“Sandro,” Willow called out again. It was devoid of any of the hesitation it had held in days past. It was wanting, needing, drowning. I set my forehead against hers and looked down into her blue eyes, equally as wet as mine. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I kissed her. “I love you so much.” I kissed her again. “I love you.”
I pressed my lips to hers and let the heat of her remind me that she was really there. She was mine, she always had been, and I needed to make sure that she always would be. One of her hands curled against the bend in my neck while the other pulled at the jacket of my suit. I relented myself to her, letting her pull the jacket over my shoulders, and pulled my hands away from her only as long as I needed to so I could shake the jacket off. When they went back to her body, they did so against her waist, peeking under her blouse to press directly against her skin.
I moved my way down again, setting my lips to her cheek, then her neck, then her chest. My hands moved up while my mouth moved down, meeting around her breasts. I pushed her shirt up until I could see her black, satin bra and undid the clasp. The fabric fell away, revealing her beautiful mounds, and I kissed them, paying homage to the fact that every inch of Willow was beautiful. She made me feel alive in ways I didn’t know I knew how to feel, and even fifteen years later, she was still able to ignite the flame deep inside me with no effort. I licked and sucked with fervor, perking my ears as best I could to hear the sounds that slipped out of her. Her squeaks were small and reserved from months of practice of not letting herself give herself fully to the pleasure between us and desperately trying not to get swept up.
I pulled away and pulled her shirt over her head. I placed my hand on her cheek, flicking away the fresh tears that had gathered there. “Let me have you, Willow,” I begged, “I promise not to waste it anymore.”
“I’m scared,” Willow responded, new tears bunching in her eyes. “I’m scared of how much I love you.”
“I’m sorry.” I kissed her. “I’m sorry that I’ve been so irresponsible, but I’m done now. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. I almost lost you.”
“Whatever it takes?” she asked.
I nodded and kissed her again. “Whatever it takes.”
She closed her eyes, and drops sped down her face. “Don’t say it if it isn’t true. I can’t do this again, Alessandro.”
“Look at me.” Willow’s eyes opened again, and even sad, her eyes shined like the morning sun’s reflection over a still ocean. “I’m done hurting you. I’m done hurting our family. I’m done hurting us. I’m done hurting myself. I won’t put you through this again. I promise.”
Willow nodded. “Okay.”
I smiled. “Okay?”
She let out a little chuckle laced with more tears. “Okay.”
She pulled my face down to meet hers again, and her fingers raked against my button-up to pull it free of where it was tucked into my pants. I released her, something I hated, but it was worth it to get rid of any articles of clothing remaining between us. I pulled my shirt and undershirt off, then my pants before turning my attention to Willow’s pants. I hooked my hands into the hem of them and her underwear and rolled them down her waist and over her thighs slowly, kissing my way as I went.
When they were free of her, I kissed my way back up the insides of her legs. I placed dozens of new bruises among the fading ones from our torrent of a couple days ago. It felt so long ago, like so much had happened—so much had. I remembered the way I felt when I took her then, and knew I didn’t want to go back to that place. Willow was light, and I had no business polluting it with my darkness. If I wasn’t willing to step into the light, I was better off not being near her at all, and since that was no longer an option for me, I had to bid my darkness a farewell. It would be scary, trying to be a person without a shadowy shield, but as long as I had Willow, I would be just fine.
My tongue found her core, and she let out a moan no longer restricted by fear or frustration. My fingers dug into the soft, welcoming flesh of her thighs as I dove deeper into her, allowing myself to consume and be consumed. Willows hands threaded into my hair and tugged lightly, spurring me on. For all the trouble I’d caused, all the pain, I wanted her pleasure to be unending. I slicked a couple of fingers with my mouth before returning to Willow’s sensitive spot and using my fingers to move around inside of her. I peeked up at her, but her head was tossed to the side, her face drenched.
I smiled and kissed her. “Does it feel good, baby?” I asked.