A/N: If you're just catching up from my hiatus, make sure you read the chapter before this - Chapter 20 – first! Thank you all for your kind words and support.
"Good morning beautiful," Tony bellowed cheerfully.
Angela grimaced at the bright sunshine streaming on her face and rolled over, prying one eye open to find Tony standing over her with two mugs of steaming hot coffee.
"Come back to bed, Tony. It's too early."
"It's almost ten, Ange. But don't worry, the whole house is just now waking up. And, for once, we have nothing on the agenda today. We can stay in here all day if we want," he smiled, waggling his eyebrows as he set down her mug and coffee on the bedside.
"I think I'm too tired to drink that. Or to think about the day. Or to think about anything," she grumbled into her pillow.
"Ah, well no one feels the romance of the moment quite like you, Angela."
He crossed over to his side of the bed and climbed back in, slipping an arm underneath her as she tucked her head into his shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
She snaked an arm across his chest and kissed him on the cheek. "You ravished me until the sun came up. And you know I'm not a morning person."
"Ah, that's very true. You're lucky I'm not just some strange guy you fell into bed with," he teased. "I might start to think you regretted the whole thing."
"Mmm..., I don't regret one second of it. And I don't fall into bed with strange men, Tony. I prefer gorgeous Italian ones who know me very well." She cupped his cheek and turned his face down toward hers, planting a soft kiss on his lips.
And he did know her very well. Last night had felt almost like an extension of their dancing - a practiced, sensual waltz they had been mastering for years. He had explored her like a delicacy, taking his time to admire her, his reverent appreciation evident in every touch. Every sense felt heightened, every stroke of his fingers on her skin important in its own way - as if he had been longing to do this for years, and might never get the chance again.
For Angela, sex had always felt like a secondary and almost obligatory aspect of a romantic relationship. She understood the mechanics just fine, and of course knew it was essential to any solid relationship, but if she was being very honest with herself, she had to admit she rarely enjoyed it. Her early lovers had been clumsy, inexperienced. And Michael was always much more concerned with his needs than hers – both in the bedroom, and outside of it. And because Michael was her longest relationship, she had begun to believe that she just wasn't the type of woman who really enjoyed sex.
Living with Tony for the last five years had awakened something deeper, more sensual within her that she had never dared to explore with another man, even with Michael. And over time her relationship with Tony, platonic though it may have been, helped her see she was worthy of being adored and desired. The problem was, she wanted those things with him; she was afraid of what might happen if she explored them with someone else. Her heart had been broken before, and her world was rife with men who only wanted pieces of her - Angela the arm candy, Angela the lone female executive, as if she were a hill to be conquered.
Tony saw her differently; despite being from a completely different world, one of less privilege and opportunity, he understood her better than anyone else. He saw her insecurities, he saw her in her bathrobe. He saw her unemployed, and cutting loose in Mexico, and bumbling through disastrous romances, and digging into a pint of Butter Brickle on the other side. He admired her beauty, but never took advantage. He cared for her far more than his job required. Her relationship with Tony felt too precious to put at risk by trying to love someone else.
So, she kept a guard up; she chose instead to protect her vulnerable heart. Her fantasies of Tony were safe, because he was forbidden. Pragmatic men like Geoffrey were safe, because they allowed her to keep her deeper, more sensual feelings locked safely away in her heart – hopeful for the day their connection would evolve into something more...defined.
What she was feeling now was exhilarating and terrifying all at once; in many ways, the most important of ways, Tony was her first. She had never really understood how much lovemaking could feel like making love. How his eyes danced as he slipped off her negligee, unwrapping her like everything in this moment was a most precious gift. How he had whispered what he had long dreamed of doing with her in between nibbles of her ear, and then made good on every promise. How his eyes had triumphantly flashed, fiery and hot when he took her to a place of ecstatic rapture, and how he had laid over her, cradling her in the wake of her bliss, whispering his adoration for her, trailing kisses down the glistening nape of her neck.
After what felt like a luxurious few hours of exploring one another, building into feverishly passionate euphoria, they had collapsed the first time into the sheets, sated and exhilarated.
She had never known any man as intimately as she had known Tony. She had always wondered, if it were to ever happen, how they would navigate each other on the other side. To her surprise, they had deliriously talked about nothing and everything, as if they were having tea in front of a movie and hadn't just crossed the most major, off-limits boundary in their relationship; her hand stroked his chiseled chest, his thumb lightly trailing lazy patterns up and down her arm, his lips peppering kisses into her hair every so often, until they were eager to go again, both too energized to sleep.
As the sky was glowing its telltale cerulean before the dawn, she had awoken from a light sleep to his arousal pressed into her leg, and couldn't resist nibbling his earlobe into a dream-like state of wakefulness until he very decisively took control and rocked her into a new level of oblivion. As the birds were announcing the new day, she finally allowed herself to succumb to slumber.
If she never truly slept, maybe she would never awake from what had surely become the most satisfying dream of her life. Tony and Angela in Italy were easy, and uncomplicated. Yet as wonderful as the night had been - more than her daydreams had ever ventured to imagine - the lingering fear niggled in her mind that when they awoke, they would have to face the unsettling reality that they were Tony and Angela in America again. And that Tony and Angela still had a lot of baggage to unpack.
As if echoing her thoughts, Tony gently turned to roll on top of her, tucking one arm snugly underneath her to cradle her as he nestled into her, looking into her eyes as he gently brushed the hair out of her eyes with the back of his hand.
"I have waited...so long for you, Angela."
Her heart soared as she smiled into his gaze, loving and tender. A warm feeling settled into her belly, as she relished the feeling of being beneath him, lazily scratching her fingers through his hair, as if this was where she belonged, where she had always belonged. This easiness of their physical intimacy was new and thrilling, and she couldn't get enough of him.
His familiar gaze held new meaning this morning. Since almost the beginning, her breath had caught in her chest when she caught his gaze across the kitchen, or over the kids' heads during a resonant moment in a favorite movie, or at night, when they parted with a lingering look after a cup of midnight tea. It was the most honest they ever were with each other. In those moments, her most private dreams were buoyed by her clear and mutual understanding of everything he was saying and feeling behind those eyes.
Everything about this felt right, and most strangely, everything about this felt comfortable. Even their physical intimacy, thrilling though it was, felt like an extension of where they had always been.
"I just wish we could stay a few more days," she lamented aloud, cupping his cheek. "We finally got to this point, and now we have to go back to reality tomorrow."
"Well, I'm not sure we want to turn the child-rearing over to Mona permanently," he teased. His voice turned low and sincere. "But soon, we can stay forever, Ange."
He stretched across to the bedside table, still holding her close with his other arm. He retrieved a small pouch from his wallet, and returned his gaze to hers with a quiet sincerity.
"I love you, Angela. And this is about to be my vineyard. My land. Truly - we have so many possibilities from here. And you know I would never come between you and your career. But, it seems to be presenting more opportunities for you in Europe. And I don't want this to drive us apart. I want you here as much as you want to be here."
He pulled a small ring out of the pouch and held it up to her. The ring was a simple band of gold, with two hands clasped and a tiny emerald set in the center.
He cleared his throat and swallowed, suddenly visibly nervous. "Now this - this is not what you think it is, Angela. This is called a "fede" ring. It's a tradition that goes back to the Ancient Romans. In Italy, it can be given as a promise ring, or an engagement ring, or a token of loyalty between a couple. The joined hands symbolize friendship, loyalty, trust; the heart around the Emerald in the middle symbolizes love. Emeralds symbolize romance, rebirth, and hope."
"Tony," she breathed, examining the delicate ring.
He kissed her hand and continued quietly. "Aldo gave it to me last night, before you went upstairs. He told me he had forgotten it existed but found it in a safe when he was sorting through some old papers for the estate. This was the family fede ring and, apparently, it was intended for my father to give to my mother before the war, when their parents had arranged the marriage. Of course, things didn't pan out the way they planned. So my father never received the ring, because they eloped."
"I hope this isn't presuming too much. But when we go back to Connecticut, Angela, everything will be different. And I know that's what we both want. But still, we have the kids, and nosy neighbors, and I want to do this right. I want us to already have a commitment. But I want this to happen on the timeline that feels right for us too - I don't want to sneak around, but I also want us to have time to adjust to this. And I don't want to feel forced to formally propose for propriety's sake."
She nodded. "I'd like to just...enjoy this relationship for a little while."
"Me too – me too Ange. For me, this ring is a promise of our future together. We've been through a lot, you and me. My parents went through a lot to be together too. And being here has shown me that is what's really important, making the most of your time with the one you love. So, in a way, I feel like they saved this ring for me. This ring is my famiglia, my promise, my terra firma. And I would be honored if you would wear it – on your right hand, so that there's room for the other ring, when...you know, we feel like it's right."
Angela's eyes glistened, and for a moment his gesture rendered her speechless. "Tony, I would be honored to wear your family's ring."
He slipped it on her right hand and delicately kissed the ring on her finger. "It fits perfectly."
"Like us," she smiled.
They sat in a comfortable silence, as he admired the ring and her slender fingers. "I've always thought you had beautiful hands."
"Really? My hands?"
He nodded. "They're very sexy. My favorite hands. They've driven me crazy many times. Sexiest hands in Connecticut, hand to God."
She laughed, swatting him playfully, and he rolled off of her to lay beside her, pulling her close against his chest. "And some day, we're coming back with the kids. And Mona. Then, if you want, we can stay forever."
He pointed out the window. "You see that hilltop where we had the picnic the other day? By the cave? Where you said it smells like lemons and lavender? Some day when we come here, I am going to marry you on that hilltop, Angela, with all our family here."
"Sounds like a dream. You've already planned this all out, huh?"
He nodded. "And the night before I marry you on that hillside, we will have a candlelit family dinner at the long table in the wine cellar. Just the immediate family - not all this famiglia and nonsense. Just Jonathan, and Samantha and Mona. Grumpy Aldo and meddling Rosa. Maurizio and Emelia."
"Oh, I think it would be special to include Antonio and Lucia, Tony."
"And Antonio and Lucia," he conceded.
"And Mrs. Rossini," she said matter-of-factly.
"Ooh," he winced. "I can't forget Mrs. Rossini. God, we would never hear the end of it."
"You'd be banned from Brooklyn for life. You're already going to have hell to pay when you tell them you aren't marrying an Italian."
"Somethin' tells me they gave up on that awhile ago."
Her lips pursed into a delighted smile. He kissed her. And then kissed her again. And by the time he'd finished kissing her, the coffee had grown cold.
FIN (save room for an epilogue!).
