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He wraps me up, holding me so tightly I can barely breathe.

His chest shakes.

He's crying.

Shaking, as tears run down his face

“Fuck, Rusty, I thought I lost you.”

His voice breaks on the words.

Actually breaks.

And that destroys me.

Because this man—this stubborn, overprotective, impossible man—is shaking.

Alessio is trembling.

Rain pours around us.

Thunder crashes overhead.

But all I can feel are his arms around me.

Strong.

Safe.

Home.

“I’m okay,” I sob, throwing my arms around his neck and clinging to him with everything I have left.

He buries his face against my hair.

Against my neck.

Every breath coming out ragged.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he whispers.

“I know.”

“I couldn't find you.”

Another shudder runs through him.

“I got to that dressing room and you weren't there and—Jesus Christ, Amanda…”

He can't finish.

Because he's crying.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just quiet tears mixed with rain.