Chapter 26

For several minutes he stayed beside me, and I listened to his quiet breathing as he rested his head beside me on the pillow. I was tired, but I didn't sleep. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Then Piero raised his head and kissed my cheek, and I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

"Piero?" I asked.

"Hmmm?"

"What was in the box you had earlier?"

He got up and went to the wall, where he reached behind the armchair and produced the box. He returned to me and placed it on the coffee table. It was filled with my things: my clothes, my bath washes, my makeup, my slippers...

"My things!" I said, smiling.

"I went to your house after I went to the hospital. I figured it'd be easier to stay out a little longer than to come back and have to tear myself away from you again. Your mother was home, and I asked her to put some of your things together, and she did."

"My mother was home? She should be at work."

"Well, she's been through a lot. Probably taking time off to think."

I nodded.

"Did she talk to you?"

"Not a word. Just did as I asked."

I nodded, and reached out to the box to pick up my favorite bottle of body wash. I flicked the cap up and smelled it.

"Mmmm…" I said, smiling. I looked down at the blanket twisted around my legs, Piero's thin T-shirt clinging to my body and his shorts loose and baggy around my thighs. I looked down at my messy hair spilling over the side of the couch, and the bandages on my wrist and foot. I suddenly felt very pathetic, and I wrinkled my nose and turned my head back to the bottle to smell it again. I looked up at Piero.

"I want to take a bath."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I don't know. But I want to try."

Piero nodded concernedly.

"Just take it easy," he said. "Don't strain yourself. But if that's what you want, I'll go and run you a bath."

He went off to the bathroom and I heard the water begin to run. I reached out and pulled the box closer, picking out my shampoo and conditioner, and my pajamas, which were an oversized T-shirt and shorts. I smelled them, and they smelled clean and familiar.

I held my things on my lap, and Piero came back a few minutes later.

"Hang on," he encouraged as he leaned over and slid a hand under my back and another under my legs. I moved my arm around his neck and held onto him tightly.

"Are you sure?" he asked before he moved me.

I nodded.

"Do it."

I braced myself for the pain, gripping his shirt. He stood up, slowly lifting me from the couch and into his arms.

"Mmmmm!" I protested as pain sharpened along my back and my ribs made themselves known. Piero paused fearfully. "I'm okay," I encouraged, my voice strained, as Piero watched me with concerned eyes. "Keep going."

He carefully carried me to the bathroom, gently holding me and supporting me as he walked. He slowly sat me on the side of the tub, and I gripped the hot water handle to steady myself as he released me and stepped back.

"Good?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Call if you need anything," he said, and I nodded again. He left, and I carefully undressed, tied up my ankle and wrist with plastic so the bandages wouldn't get wet, and climbed into the tub. The water was warm, and it felt good lapping about my achy skin. I hadn't had a bath in a few days, and I turned on the shower and let the water run into my hair and face, filling my eyes and mouth and running off my chin.

I washed slowly, enjoying the comfort of the fresh water, the scent of the body wash, and the dripping of my long hair. The bath coaxed the weakness out of my skin and soothed the pain, leaving me feeling sleepy and content. I slowly climbed out of the tub and sat naked on the side, enjoying the fresh, feminine feeling of being clean. I wrapped myself in the fluffy towel laid out for me and after a few minutes I carefully changed into my T-shirt and shorts, feeling the comfort of the clean fabric against my skin. I wearily watched the water swirl down the drain as I meditatively brushed my wet hair. I saw myself in the mirror and studied my reflection. My cheeks were flushed with the heat of the bathwater, my lips rosy red, and my eyes weary, giving me a serene expression. I had the romantic glow of a clean young woman, and I smiled shyly at the foggy glass. I heard Piero singing in the kitchen, and I closed my eyes and listened to the powerful, beautiful sound until I realized that I was falling asleep.

I reached out to the door and unlocked it, pushing it open with my foot.

"Piero?" I called, and at once he appeared in the doorway, still singing. His voice faltered when he saw me. A smile spread across his handsome face and he gazed at me for a moment before approaching me with careful reverence. He cautiously reached out and took me lovingly into his arms, and I winced and endured the pain, held still in his strong grip. I looked up into his handsome, admiring eyes.

He silently carried me into the cool air of the living room and lowered me onto the welcoming cushions of the sofa.

I adjusted my head on the pillow and curled my hands on my middle. I yawned in content, and Piero knelt beside the sofa and smiled at me. He caressed my cheek with his hand, and then leaned forward to softly kiss my neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh scent of my body wash.

He moved his face up to mine and kissed my lips, then gazed at me for a moment.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly.

"Refreshed."

He smiled.

"Good. I'm glad."

"Piero? I was wondering if the moon was out."

He got up from the sofa and went to the window.

"It is, mi amor. It's beautiful, very bright tonight." He turned to smile at me. "Do you want to see?"

I nodded.

"Medicine first," he said, and helped me to take it.

Afterwards, I watched as he went to the rocking chair and dragged it outside, out the back door. Then he returned to me and reached down to carefully reach his arms around me. He paused, and then carefully lifted me from the sofa and held me as the pain increased and then subsided. He turned and carried me out the back door, closing it with his foot. It was a warm summer night, and the sky was clear and beautiful.

He went to the rocker and sat down, carefully positioning me in his arms. I sat on his lap, leaning against him with my head on his shoulder, my feet dangling just above the ground. He held me firmly to him, supporting my back and ribs, keeping me from moving or slipping.

I looked up at the moon, a gorgeous, bright, round orb, almost full, but not quite. There were no clouds to mask it, and its exposed light bathed everything below it in a gentle glow. The pool water rippled with a white light, and the darkened grass lay flat in reverence of the magnificence above.

I lay against Piero and we both looked up at the moon in silence. Piero began to rock me forward and back, forward and back, gently and slowly in the rocking chair. I snuggled up to him and peered up at the moon. It would only take a little longer for it to become perfect and whole, and I gazed up at it in admiration.

"It's beautiful," I eventually whispered, looking upward in awe.

"La luna," Piero murmured. "Yes, it is beautiful."

"I look at it a lot," I admitted. "I take notice of it. I think it's one of the most beautiful things in the universe. At least, from what I've seen thus far."

Piero laughed, and I looked up at him to see his beautiful smile. His eyes shone in the moonlight, and he kissed my cheek as we returned to the quiet. The rocker moved soothingly back and forth as I reflected on my nights spent sleeping in the forest.

"When I slept in the tent, it was only a little crescent," I interjected thoughtfully. "The night Ray hurt me it was gone because of the storm. I remember, and that's why everything was so dark. There was no moonlight."

"I remember that it was very bright that day we were on the beach," Piero said, "That night I first sang "La Luna Hizo Esto" to you."

"I remember," I said thoughtfully as I recalled the first time I had heard Piero sing that song. "It was a half-moon."

"I look at it a lot, too," Piero admitted softly. "I look at it and think about how everyone sees the same moon. People mention that a lot, but I think about my family all the way in Naro, in Sicily, seeing the moon, and how it shines over all the Il Volo fans everywhere in the world at once."

We were quiet, both admiring the glowing orb in the sky, amidst the stars that complimented it and longed to be quite as beautiful.

"We mention the moon a lot in our songs," Piero said, his voice soft and thoughtful.

"La luno hizo esto…" I sang softly, and he nodded and kissed my cheek.

"Yes. Like that one. But we mention it in other songs too. Like in "Questo Amore." We sing, "E la luna ti offrirei." Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"It means I'll give you the moon."

I was quiet, and he softly kissed my cheek again.

"Do the want the moon Julia? "Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down." "

I smiled at the reference to "It's a Wonderful Life."

"I'll take it," I said, and he smiled.

"I think you've got it already," he said. "You think the moon is the most beautiful thing in the universe? Well then, when you smile, the beauty of the moon is present in your eyes."

He turned his face to me, his eyes shining, the moon reflecting in them, and kissed me tenderly.

Then he looked back up at the sky, and I opened my hand and rested my palm over his heart, as if trying to feel its beating.

"Then there's "Surrender." We sing, "Let me hold you in my arms, dear…While the moon shines bright above!"

I reached up and touched his cheek, and he turned his face to me to kiss me again.

"What else?" I asked, hungry for more beautiful words about the moon.

" "Luna Nascosta." Hidden Moon."

"Tell me."

"Dove sei…luna nascosta…le coi in fondo…"

I listened blissfully as he sang the entire song to me in beautiful Italian, his voice powerful and comforting. His voice was right beside my ear, and I felt his chest move with his breaths, heard the syllables echoing around me. The song entered the night and floated up to serenade the waiting moon, who gratefully shone its light onto us, allowing us to see each other's faces despite the darkness.

When the song was finished, Piero translated it to me, and spoke the lyrics in English, poetry falling from his lips.

"Where are you, hidden moon? I read into the depths of your thoughts. I have to open the curtain among the stars to see my hidden moon."

I closed my eyes and listened.

"I know that you touched my soul, moon and fire of passions, make my deep love shine for you, I don't want it hidden from you."

Back and forth the rocker moved, and I felt Piero's strong arms around me, his words reaching through me all the way to my heart.

When he finished the words we sat in silence under the moon.

I opened my eyes and admired the way his face glowed in the light. He turned his gaze down to me.

"Whenever I've left your house, and you were asleep, I stood and watched you for a little while, seeing you in the moonlight," I said softly to him.

He kissed my cheek and began to massage my back with his thumb, and I closed my eyes and sighed in content.

"I've been admiring the way you look in the moonlight the past few days, while the moon's been getting brighter," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as that."

"Even though I'm hurt and bandaged up?"

"Even still. When you sleep, you have this peaceful, beautiful look on your face. You're not upset, you're not fearful, you're just peaceful and calm. You're sweet and vulnerable, especially now that you're hurt, and I know it's my responsibility to watch over you, protect you."

He kissed me, and when he pulled back I leaned forward to keep kissing him.

"Julia, I promise that I won't let you get hurt again," Piero said. "I will protect you, and Ray will never hurt you again. I promise you this."

I kissed him and we kept kissing, our lips moving against each other's under the moonlight.

I pulled back finally, breathless and blushing, and Piero smiled at me and kissed my forehead. He adjusted me on his lap, cuddling me to him, and I laid my head on his shoulder.

I looked up at the glowing moon one last time before closing my eyes.

Piero began to sing what he knew I would like to hear, "La luna hizo esto… fue culpa de la luna… haberme enamorado…enamorado de ti!"

I was falling asleep in his arms, and he knew it, because he slowed down the rocker and softened his voice. He held me and massaged me and rocked me into a deep, peaceful sleep underneath the moon.