My Saving Grace

"D-did she...get hurt?", I managed to utter after what felt like an eternity.

"She had a concussion," Antonio replied in a grave tone. His face was buried in his hands as he threaded his fingers through his hair in anguish.

Needing to touch him, comfort him, I reached for his arm, but he withdrew it from me.

"Don't touch me," he snapped.

"Antonio, look at me," I implored.

"I don't fucking deserve you. Why the hell did I even come here?"

"You tell me," I countered.

He stared down at his lap, avoiding my gaze. Moments passed in silence when he finally spoke.

"I came...because I need you."

I reached for his face, and this time, he didn't recoil.

"And I need, you, Antonio," I whispered fiercely.

He stared at me through his tear-stained eyes as I caressed his cheek, desperately wanting to absorb his pain.

"She didn't even press charges against me, can you believe that?", he croaked.

"It's unfortunate you two just happened to be fighting by the stairs," I said meaningfully.

"She said that as long as we broke off our engagement, she wouldn't press charges. She also didn't want to jeopardize my career."

"How thoughtful of her." My voice was laced with sarcasm.

He gave a humorless laugh.

"I know, right? For once, she finally acknowledged all I had to give up to be with her. When I completed my doctoral degree at Stanford, the chemistry department offered me a high paying job. I was ecstatic--working at Stanford meant that I'd still get to be near my family.

"But Veronica already had a steady job herself down in SoCal and didn't want to relocate. So I did. I never thought twice about anything she asked of me. I was so blinded by my love for her, I never saw the selfish, cunning bitch she'd turned into."

He leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his face wearily, and I rested my hand on his thigh.

"Antonio, I'm so sorry," I said quietly, my heart aching for him.

"You have nothing to apologize for, mia bella." He placed his hand on top of mine, our fingers interlacing.

"Did your family know? About how Veronica fell down the stairs?"

"Yes. My brother called me a selfish son of a bitch and cut off all communication with me. Which was easy to do since his job relocated him to Boston anyway."

A look of remorse crossed over his features as he stared down at his lap. His next words were spoken so quietly, I had to strain my ears to hear them.

"Carlo said I was physically violent...just like our father."

Grabbing his face between my hands, my eyes bored into his, and the words I uttered were out of pure, raw honesty.

"You. Are. Not. Your. Father."

His forehead rested against mine as he closed his eyes, shaking his head back and forth.

"If I was able to hurt Veronica like that, God knows what else I'm capable of."

"Antonio, stop—"

"But I swear to God, Sophia, I will never do anything to hurt you." His voice was thick with emotion.

"I know." I smiled through the tears that were beginning to well up in my eyes.

"Oh, mia bella," he whispered as his arms enfolded me in a fierce embrace. I clung to him like my life depended on it, breathing in the familiar, intoxicating scent of him.

"I missed you so much, Antonio," I spoke into his chest.

"I missed you, too." His hands stroked up and down my back.

When we finally pulled apart, I stood up to go get a glass of water. I called out to him from the kitchen, asking him if he wanted anything to drink. But there was no reply.

Frowning, I headed back to the living room, only to find Antonio sprawled on my couch, fast asleep. His long limbs dangled over the edge, and I smiled to myself at the sight.

I set my glass down on the table then went to my bedroom to retrieve a spare blanket. It was a pathetic little thing and wouldn't cover him completely, but it was better than nothing. After draping it over his large frame, I gave him a light peck on the cheek before retreating to my own bed for the night.

The following morning, I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and a wide smile spread across my face at the thought of Antonio in my apartment. He was back in my life again, and nothing made me happier.

I practically jumped out of bed and quickly checked my hair in the mirror before digging in my drawers for a pair of shorts.

Who says you need to put on shorts, my subconscious chimed in.

I smiled dumbly. This was Antonio we were talking about, not some stranger. Besides, my T-shirt was long enough to cover my butt cheeks, so all was good in the world.

"Good morning," I said in a sing-songy voice as I walked into the kitchen.

Antonio was frying eggs at the stove, and he turned around at the sound of my presence. The shirt he wore was wrinkled, thick stubble covered his jaw, and his hair was completely disheveled, but he still looked so goddamned beautiful.

He simply stood there, his gaze raking me from head to toe.

"What?", I asked.

"Nothing...Damn, I've missed those legs."

I burst out laughing, and Antonio smiled his gorgeous smile, revealing the tiny dimple on his cheek that I'd never thought I'd see again. He went back to cooking, and I took a seat at the kitchen island, pouring myself a mug of coffee.

"How long have you been up?", I asked.

"About an hour. My stomach was growling all night."

"That's unfortunate."

"I haven't eaten much this past week," he admitted with a light shrug.

"Yeah, me neither."

Lies. You stuffed yourself with half-apps last night.

I watched as Antonio moved about my kitchen as if it were his own; it amazed me how he knew where everything was located, from the spices to the utensils.

As if reading my thoughts, he said, "Don't worry, I haven't been stalking you or anything. You just happen to leave everything in the same places as I do."

"Great minds think alike."

"Exactly. Now eat up." He slid a plate filled with eggs, breakfast sausage, and French toast towards me then took a seat by my side.

"You seriously gotta let me cook for you some time," I said, taking a bite of the toast. As soon as the syrupy sweetness hit my tongue, I moaned in delight. "Oh my god, this is amazing."

"It's my mother's recipe. And yes, I actually look forward to sampling your culinary skills."

"Well, it isn't anything impressive, let me tell you that."

He chuckled, giving my thigh a playful squeeze. We ate in companionable silence and afterwards, I washed the dishes while he went to take a shower. I let him borrow some of Nick's clothing that he'd left in the guest bedroom for whenever he slept over.

I showered, changing into a floral summer dress then went to look for Antonio. He stood at my piano, flipping through the pages of my music books that had been gathering dust over the years.

"Debussy? Mozart? I didn't know you were such a prodigy," he remarked with a look of amusement.

"It's been a long time," I said, glancing down at the black and white keys that had once been my fingers' natural habitat.

"Play something for me. Anything at all." His eyes were practically gleaming.

He stood back to give me space as I sat down at the piano bench, smoothening out my dress. A whirlwind of songs I could potentially still play went through my mind, then at last, I settled on one.

Lifting my hands to the keys, I began to play the beginning notes of Alicia Keys's, "Fallin," which I considered to be one of her greatest hits. To my surprise, it felt as if I'd never stopped playing the piano; my fingers were able to glide smoothly over the keys without hitting a single sour note.

At the chorus, my eyes drifted closed as I became one with the music, letting it move me. After all, I was falling myself...for the man who was standing behind me.

When I finished, I set my hands down on my lap then turned around in my seat to look up at Antonio, my expression hopeful.

"How'd I do?", I asked.

His eyes drifted from the piano to mine, and he drew a long breathe, as if reviving from a trance.

"It was...incredible. You're incredible."

"Thank you," I said with a shy smile, blushing furiously.

He brought a hand to my chin, tilting it up and planted a light kiss on my lips.

"I see what you did there, picking an Alicia Keys's hit, but one song isn't enough, don't you think?" He grinned playfully then I nodded towards the couch. He sat down on it, stretching out his long legs and made himself comfortable.

For the next hour, I played my favorite pop songs for Antonio, and as my fingers became reacquainted with the increasingly difficult notes, I switched over to classical music. I ended with Franz Liszt's, "Liebestraum," a gentle, romantic-sounding piece that always made me feel like floating on air whenever I played it.

I turned to face Antonio, and he beckoned me to join him on the couch, where I curled up into his lap.

"I know talent when I see it, and you, mia bella, are truly gifted," he spoke, gazing at me with admiration and pride.

"You sound like my piano teacher."

"How so?" The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"She always wanted me to pursue piano as a career and said what you just did."

"So why didn't you?"

"I'm terrified of playing in front of crowds. It's so nerve wracking. And besides, I love science too much to not pursue it as a career."

He nodded in understanding.

"We're chemistry geeks for life."

I bit back a laugh.

"So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?", I asked.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. We can go out and do something if you'd like."

"Or we can stay in and binge watch Netflix," I suggested.

His brow lifted in amusement.

"What are we, college students?"

"Yes, if I had decided to go to grad school. You, on the other hand, are too old to be a college student." I poked him in the chest.

"I'll show you old," he said with a low growl, flipping me onto my back, and I let out a high pitched squeal.

His breath fanned my cheek as he leaned in to capture my lips in an all-consuming kiss that stole my breath away. It had felt like an eternity since we'd last shared a kiss like this. For two agonizing months, my body had yearned for him. Now, here he was.

But so was my period.

What perfect timing.

Just when I felt his hand beginning to slide up my thigh, I stopped it in its tracks.

"What?", he asked, his lips still molded to mine.

"I'm on my period."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he groaned, dropping his forehead onto mine.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to my nose.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

My hands slid beneath his T-shirt, feeling the smooth dips and ridges of his abs before traveling lower. When I reached the waistband of his sweatpants, I began palming his throbbing erection, and my mouth watered at the feel of him.

"What are you doing?", he rasped, biting down on his lower lip.

"Relieving you of this," I whispered.

I slipped my hand beneath his waistband, wrapping it around his bare flesh as I began stroking him long and hard. His breathing became shallow, and he buried his face in my neck, his eyes clammed shut.

"Yes, mia bella. Just like that. God, what I'd give to be buried deep inside of you right now," he groaned, pulling down one of my dress straps. His mouth enclosed around a nipple, and I moaned. As he licked and sucked, my hands squeezed tight then I began massaging him.

Within minutes, we both came, and he dropped his head on my chest, panting heavily. He gave me one last drugging kiss then got off of me, helping me up. After cleaning ourselves in the bathroom, we both made ourselves comfortable on my bed, and I turned on the TV.

"So, what's good right now on Netflix?", I asked.

"You into action?"

"It depends. Usually no. But if there's a little bit of romance involved..."

He smiled.

"I know just the movie then."

I handed him the remote, and he selected a movie called, "Live or Die."

"Sounds intense," I commented.

We sat back against the pillows, and I watched as the opening scene commenced. The setting was some sort of detective agency, and the camera was focused on a man's back. It was when he turned around that a shocked gasp escaped my lungs.

Either my eyes were playing tricks on me, or Chase Lincoln was the man staring back at me through the TV.

Notes