Mike and Barb reminisced about their own. Champagne flowed freely, as did the conversation and the laughter.
"So," Barbara said, "where are you two going for your honeymoon?"
"We're going to stay home."
"Home!"
Marisa nodded. "Grigori said we could go wherever I wanted, but I want to stay home, in our own house, just the two of us."
"You always said you wanted to go to Italy for your honeymoon," Marge remarked.
Marisa looked at Grigori and smiled. "I've been to Italy."
"You have!" her father exclaimed. "When?"
"Not long ago. It was a quick, unexpected trip."
"Really?" Mike frowned at her. "You never mentioned it."
"Didn't I? I'm ready for dessert. Mom, what are you going to have?"
Grigori grinned as she neatly changed the subject.
It was late when they returned to Marisa's apartment. Mike and Barb picked up their kids, and then left for the motel. Jack and Marge bid Marisa and Grigori good night and went to bed.
Marisa sat down on the sofa and pulled a pillow into her lap. "Well," she said, "alone at last."
"Indeed." He regarded her thoughtfully a moment, and then sat down beside her. "Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing, really."
"Really?"
She blew out a deep breath. "Edward came by this morning."
"I see."
"There's been another killing. Did you know that?"
He nodded. "Go on."
"He said a lot of foolish things. It doesn't matter."
"I think it matters very much. What did he say?"
Marisa glanced at the hallway. "We can't talk about it here." She gasped as he took her in his arms and stood up. "What are you doing?"
"Going where we can talk."
Before she could protest, before she could ask where they were going, they were there.
He placed her on her feet, and then turned on the lights. "There's no one to overhear us now."
"I really don't want to discuss it."
"Don't you? Something's troubling you. I've known it all night. It's more than another killing. What is it?"
It was cold in the house. She wrapped her arms around her body, wondering if she was shaking from the chill in the air, or the coldness in Grigori's eyes.
He turned away from her. She saw him wave his hand, and in the next instant, there was a fire in the fireplace. He took several slow, deep breaths, and then turned to face her.
"Tell me, Marisa."
"He said I was crazy to marry you, that I should ask you how many people you've killed. He - " She wrapped her arms around her waist. "He asked me if I wanted to be next."
Grigori swore under his breath. "Dammit, Marisa, what do you want me to say?"
"I just want the truth."
"I've told you the truth. I've killed people. I told you that. Maybe I glossed over it to spare your feelings, but I never lied to you about it. There were times, in the beginning, before I learned to control the Hunger, that people died. I can't do anything about that. Their deaths haunted me then. They haunt me now. But I can't change the past."
He crossed the floor to the window. Drawing back the curtain, he gazed out into the darkness. "Maybe I'm just kidding myself," he murmured. "I thought we could make this work. Maybe I was wrong."
The anguish in his voice, the loneliness, tugged at her heart. She went to stand behind him. "I love you, you know I do."
He could feel her close to him. Her warmth engulfed him; her scent surrounded him. "Maybe that's not enough."
"What else is there?"
"Trust."
"I do trust you."
"Do you? Can you tell me, honestly, that you're not afraid of me, that there isn't a part of you that doesn't wonder if Ramsey is right?"
"Search my mind, Grigori, and find the truth for yourself."
"Marisa..." Slowly, he turned to face her. "If you're not sure, if you have any doubts, tell me now, before it's too late. I told you before, once you're mine, I will not let you go. There will be no divorce if you decide you've made a mistake." His gaze trapped and held hers. "Be sure."
He needed her. All her life, she had wanted someone who would love her unconditionally, someone who would need her, someone who couldn't live without her. "I'm sure."
With infinite care, he drew her into his arms. "I love you, cara mia. I will never love another."
With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest, felt his love wash over her, warm and sweet. This was right. This was where she belonged.
Friday was a pleasant day. Mike and his family