Sempre: Redemption by J. M. Darhower Page A

crushed all over again. She grew anxious, conjuring up wild scenarios of where he was and what he was doing. She couldn’t understand how he tolerated being away from her. If he loved her as he claimed, he had to feel the same pain she did.
    Didn’t he?
    She started imagining things that weren’t there again, whispered voices in the night calling out to her as she struggled to find solace in sleep. She heard noises in the apartment, footsteps outside her door, and loud bangs that sent her heart wildly racing. It got to the point where it felt like someone was always there, lurking around the corner, watching, waiting. She could hear them moving around but they were always out of sight, never within her reach. He was haunting her, his memory lingering everywhere she looked, while his absence cruelly taunted her.
    Until, suddenly, one day, she saw him there.
    Haven stood in place, staring at the vision in front of her. Carmine sat in a dark room in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, hunched over his piano with his fingers ghosting across the ivory keys. He didn’t press down on them. There was no music, no sound at all—nothing but strangled silence.
    Nothing but him.
    She reveled in the sight, the contours of his muscles and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply. His hair was a mess, overgrown and unkempt, sticking up in every direction and falling forward into his eyes. She could even make out the scar on his side, shining a shade lighter than his naturally tanned skin. She longed to touch it, to trace the old wound with her fingertips.
    “Tesoro.” He whispered the word in a shaky voice, as if saying it any louder would hurt too much. “Ti amo.”
    She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She clutched her throat, startled, unable to find her voice. It was gone.
    I love you, too , she thought. I always will .
    “Only you,” he whispered. “Sempre.”
    Sempre .
    “You’re my life,” he said. “I’d die without you.”
    I’m yours. I always have been.
    His shoulders slumped. “Forgive me.”
    For what?
    “I destroy everything I touch.”
    She shook her head. Not me.
    “Maybe not you, yet,” he said. “But I will . . . if you let me.”
    You won’t . She took a step closer. You wouldn’t hurt me.
    “I hurt you when I left,” he whispered. “But I had to do it. I had to.”
    He slowly turned in her direction as he lifted his head, and Haven’s heart pounded furiously as he looked straight at her. Instead of the bright vibrant green she had expected, there was nothing but darkness. There was no life, no light, no spark. His words were just as cold. “I would’ve destroyed you had I stayed.”
    A violent shiver tore down her spine as she frantically shook her head.
    Over his heart, where the words Il tempo guarisce tutti i mali were inked on his skin, a small black circle appeared. She watched, horrified, as it expanded rapidly, his face twisting in anguish as the blackness took over his body.
    A loud crack shook the walls as he vanished into the darkness.
    Haven sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding erratically. It was pitch black, no streetlights shining through the window, not even the glow from the alarm clock nearby. She rubbed her burning eyes, disoriented, and colored splotches sprung up in her line of sight like splatters of translucent watercolor paint.
    A severe storm waged outside, rain splattering against the building as the wind screeched. The noises echoed through the room as a prickly sensation danced across Haven’s feverish skin, almost like there was an electrical charge in the air.
    Glancing toward the bedroom door, her panic flared as a thump rang out in the living room. “Dia?” she called out, her voice gritty. She swallowed harshly, trying to get a grip, and pushed the comforter away. Her legs shook as she tiptoed toward the door, pressing her ear against the crack to listen.
    A gust of wind whipped by, violently rattling the window, and