Giovanni Vitale

Epilogue

Gio pov

As I analysed him, his light brown hair, eyes that looked about as empty as he felt. I couldn't help but pity the man who looked back at me from the mirror.

I scratched at the short dark stubble on my jaw, turning away from my bathroom and heading back into my office. I sat down on the desk and pulled out my leather journal. It was the 22nd of the month, so I had to write a letter today. Just like every other 22nd day of the month.

*Play song now*

"March 22, letter #62

How could you leave me without as much as a warning? I'm mad at you. But if I'm being honest, if I had the chance to see you one more time, I'd fall apart in your arms. I want to hold you again, feel your warm body against mine, kiss you until I could no longer breathe, love on you until we were both exhausted.

It's been 6 years now. Too long without mio amore.

I need you, your brother needs you, Gracie needs you, your friends need you.

I write to you this letter, with no hope of response, not because I never sent any, but because you're dead.

So many times I envisioned our future together. I had it all planned out. We would have gotten married, maybe had a kid if fate allowed it, because I know you didn't want to adopt or watch another woman carry your child. We would've grown old and happy together until one of us unavoidably passed away.

Except, you messed up the order. You started with the latter.

You have no clue the amount of days where I've just wanted to take my gun and kill myself, so I could join you where you are.

And you know what's worse?

I can't even get justice for your death. We've looked for Vassilio, we've found him actually, but we can't get to him.

Maybe I should find pleasure in the fact that his empire was destroyed, but it's worthless without you.

But I can't kill him, he's too good.

I miss you, your soft brown hair, your addictive scent, the way you always ran your fingers through my hair, your laugh, your smile.

Fuck Noah, I miss all of it. And I don't know how much longer I can go on without it.

Tell me how to stop the constant ache in my chest, I've tried it all, but the only fix is you. And you're not here.

I'm sorry I broke my promise to always protect you-"

I couldn't keep writing due to the tears that were blurring my vision. The black ink on the paper was smudged by fallen tears.

5 years and it still hurts as much as the day it happened. I've been on a rampage, killing everyone who's an inconvenience to me.

I can't really blame anyone other than myself right? I'm the one who left without her. I can understand why Sky blamed me.

Eventually she found me in my office after I had swallowed a few too many pills. She dragged me to the bathroom and shoved her fingers down my throat until I threw them up. She held me in her embrace until I stopped shaking.

Maybe that incident should've been a warning for me to lay off the drugs and alcohol, but I couldn't stop. It's the only thing that helps. That and women.

I think I've slept with more than half the female population in the US. I've been scolded by my mother, claiming it isn't a healthy way to cope with loss, but I don't know any other way.

I've been spending time with Fernando, no one else in the house parties every other night so he's the only other option. He praises me for my way of coping.

I can't party with Luca because he and Sky now have a 2 year old son who needs their care.

I love Luca like my brother, but watching him live the life I wanted with my lover, was too difficult. I had to distance myself.

I'm sure Noah would be disappointed in me, but she'd dead "D. E. A. D." As my cousin likes to remind me.

You might think I have a kid somewhere out there, but no. Birth control and a condom, always. I'd like to save the last little bit of pride I have left.

I flipped back to the frst page of the book and read the short entry.

"Desiderium ; an ardent desire or longing especially : a feeling of less or grief for something lost.

This was our story and this is how I lost her."

Noah always thought I had been poetically talented. She loved reading my old diaries from when I was a teenager. She always claimed that she regretted not keeping one.

She'd said "Life is like a book, diaries just prove that point."

My phone started ringing, I checked the caller ID and answered.

"Hey Gracie." I tried my best to sound normal.

"How many times do I need to tell you? It's Ace now, people only called me Gracie when I was a baby." Yeah, she has a phone now. But to be fair, she paid for it herself, babysitting for family friends.

"Well, you're still a baby to me. You're only 13, you know?"

She snorted on the other side of the line. "Yeah, 13 and I can fight better than you, old man."

"Hey, I'm not that old, I'm only 31."

"You're turning 32 in two months. Anyways, you wanna spar?"

"What?- You mean you're home?"

"Yeah, I'm downstairs."

"Alright, I'll be down in a bit." I hung up on her.

I looked back down at the journal on my desk. Noah was right.

Life is like a book, and she might not have made it to the end of my story, but I'll always remember what page her name was on.

THE END