Page 149 of Jude

‘If I had to burn through every damn fire in this universe just to hold you again, I’d do it, because infinity belongs to us.’

His gaze dropped; he took an inhale, then leaned into the camera.

‘Come back to me, babe.’

Moments later, the screen went to black.

I sat still, staring at my phone for a long time, heart churning, pulse kicking hard at the lingering poignancy of both melodies.

I fought the need to rush out of this room and out into the night, searching for him.

However, I remained unconvinced by the musical olive branch.

‘No!’ I whispered into the empty room, tossing the device to the foot of my bed at the end of the song.

I was still too bruised from his lack of faith in me.

It was too soon to seek his arms again, even though I ached for them with all of my heart.

The next night, his black sedan idled along the gravel shoulder of the Greyhound bus terminal at the end of my cleaning shift.

I walked toward my Honda, exhausted from scrubbing bays for six hours, when I glanced up to see Jude easing from his Ram and heading toward me.

He stopped my progress by wrapping his sinewed fingers around my upper arm.

His grip was not violent, but it was absolute.

I was not going anywhere.

‘How’re you, babe?’ he growled.

I turned to face him, softening a fraction because he seemed so haggard.

Yet, even with the devastating toll of the past weeks written across his face, his striking features made my breath catch.

An unruly growth of beard shadowed the chiseled line of his jaw, and his high cheekbones appeared more prominent, hollowed out by sleepless nights.

The collar of his printed shirt lay open, exposing the inked column of his throat, and I longed to nestle into him, to press my lips to his pulse.

Damn.

‘I’m OK. You?’

‘Been better, babe,’ Jude muttered, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine, searching my face with a fierce intensity. ‘Did you listen to the tracks?’

I gave him a single, curt nod.

His arm slid to my waist as he pulled me to him, tight and close, staring down at me with such intensity that I shivered.

‘Sei l’amore della mia vita,’ he rasped.

I jolted, a tremor running through me.

‘Did you just tell me that I’m the love of your life?’

He gave me a chin raise.

‘I’ve been practicing my Italian for you, babe. I also want to say mi dispiace. I’m sorry, Sofia. I was a coward. I made assumptions I should not have. I ruined what we had. While I’m not begging you to forgive me, I need us to talk through what happened and map out how we’re going to move forward together, babe. You’re my wife. Please, come home to me.’