I check the peephole and my heart stops.
Luca.
What’s he doing here?
For some reason, I look down at my outfit, noting the old leggings and faded sweatshirt.
My hair was haphazardly put into a ponytail when I got out of bed, and while I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I have no makeup on.
The fact that I’m annoyed by seeing Luca looking like this is unsettling. I shouldn’t care. Not anymore.
I swing the door open. "Luca? What are you?—"
"I brought sweet treats." He holds up a box, presenting them like an offering. "Cannoli for you, cookies for the kids."
Three small heads peek around my legs, their eyes lighting up at the mention of sweets.
“What sort of treats?” Rocco steps forward, his impulsivity made worse with curiosity.
Luca crouches down, meeting the boy's gaze. "Rainbow. I’m told kids love ’em.”
“Can I see?” Elio joins his brother. Adalina leans forward too.
He lifts the lid and the scent of sugar and sprinkles fills the air.
“Can I have one?” Rocco asks, his hand already poised to reach into the box.
“Well, that depends on your mom.” Luca looks up at me.
Rocco bounces on his toes. "Mommy, can I have one? Please?"
“Me too!” Elio says.
My instinct is to shut the door in Luca’s face.
There’s so much at risk by his being here, his spending time with the kids.
But that is followed by guilt.
He’s their father even if he doesn’t know it. Even if their safety requires he never know it.
"Please, Mom?" Rocco clasps his hands together, holding them under his chin like he’s begging.
“Why don’t we invite Mr. Monti in first?” I step back to give him space.
“Yay!” Rocco throws his fists into the air in victory.
“In the kitchen.” I say, and all three rush to the kitchen.
He smiles. “Was it the cannoli or the kids' excitement that got me the invite?”
“Both.” I lead him back to the kitchen.
“Do you have milk?” he asks.
“Milk is for dinner and cereal,” Rocco announces.
I go to the refrigerator to get the milk and five glasses as Luca puts the box of treats on the table.
