Rosa

Chapter 40

As Nijah's ghost crept over her consciousness, the tremor in Rosa's voice overwhelmed her entire body. Her hands began to shake. She was no longer in control. Like a glass house standing against a battering storm, Rosa's defenses began to crack and splinter into fragments of unresolved grief.

Cristiano looked at her as though his heart was breaking as well. He observed in a faint murmur, "You have known loss, too."

"You have no idea," Rosa replied with a broken smile.

His dark eyes swam with sorrow and sympathy. "I cannot take away your grief, anima gemella, but I can carry it with you."

Barely touching her skin, Cristiano used his knuckles to trace the outline of her cheek, so lovingly, so tenderly, that it brought an unexpected surge of tears to her eyes. Her heart swelled with anguish. He was always so gentle and kind in her moments of weakness. Such gentleness felt alien to her. Such kindness was so unfamiliar. His touch triggered a feeling inside of Rosa that she didn't know how to process.

Appreciation?

No, the emotion ran far deeper than gratitude. What they shared felt more like an understanding between two damaged souls. In Cristiano, Rosa recognized a man who had been destroyed in the same cruel way that fate had chosen to fuck with her and Nijah. Life as they knew it had been ripped asunder, and their loved ones were gone. Forever.

His hand lingered on her face. Caressing, comforting, caring for her. His presence gave Rosa the strength to share her story. In a wisp of a whisper, she bared her soul to him, "Nijah... was born in the morning."

Cristiano's steady arms circled around her back much in the way she had tried to console him during his recounting of his family's demise.

She buried her face into his chest. Wetness leaked from the corners of Rosa's eyes despite her best efforts to hold back the tears. "I had been in labor all night. I was so tired. I could barely keep my eyes open. But I remember seeing the first rays of sunlight when I heard Nijah's first cries."

He kissed her again. A ghosting brush of lips against her temple.

Rosa shivered slightly. "She stopped crying the moment they put her on my chest. Skin to skin. I had never known such peace, such love, as when I held her in my arms—"

Her voice cracked before she could finish.

With his thumb, Cristiano wiped away her tears and offered in thick, hoarse tones, "There is no need to continue if these memories are too much for you."

"But I must continue, mon beau," Rosa countered softly, "a promise is a promise. You told me about your family. Now, I wish to tell you about mine."

"Are you sure?"

"Oui."

"Then," Cristiano murmured as he pulled her closer, "I will listen."

Her amber eyes turned dull, carrying a faraway sheen, as Niajh's face flickered across her mind. "She had my eyes, you know. Same color. Same shape. Everyone who saw her could tell that she was my little girl."

He mumbled, "She sounds beautiful. Just like you."

Rosa smiled faintly at his compliment and gave a sad shrug. "Nijah was the most beautiful, perfect soul I ever laid eyes on. More beautiful than I could ever hope to be."

"Your love for Nijah is what makes you beautiful, Rosa."

Cristiano's words struck a poignant, painful chord in Rosa. She had always been valued for her physical beauty. No man ever bothered to look beyond the surface. They never saw her as human. As a girl who had been stolen from her family. As a killer who had been driven to commit unimaginable sins for survival. As a mother who was still grieving the loss of her child.