The distance. The guilt. The betrayal. The love that never stopped but grew twisted, frayed, knotted by expectations and consequences neither brother could undo.
He carried it like armor. Like punishment.
My eyes burned before I even realized I was crying. I reached up and cupped the side of his face gently, thumb brushing the corner of his jaw.
“Baby…”
His hand came up and covered mine, warm and grounding. “Don’t cry for me,princesa.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, voice unsteady. “I had no idea. You’ve been carrying this all this time?”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. The silence was enough.
“Matteo,” my voice cracked, “You’re breaking my heart.”
He blinked once, slow, gaze softening in a way that made my chest ache.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
I brought my other hand up, framing his face fully – forehead almost touching his, breath mingling with his breath.
“Don’t ever apologize,” I breathed. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
His eyes flickered, like he wasn’t used to being touched like this. Seen like this.Loved like this.
“I should be the one apologizing,” I went on, “For being so insensitive before. I’m truly sorry.”
He shook his head, thumb grazing the back of my hand. “It’s okay,amor.”
But I saw it – the way he tucked his pain away, like he always did. Like he thought he had to.
I leaned in closer, my thumb rubbing his jaw.
Candlelight flickered across her face – warm, golden, impossibly soft. She cradled my face like I was something sacred. Like I was the most precious thing to her. I had never known – never felt – a love so pure as the love she had showed me.
Her eyes glistened, heartbreak and tenderness tangled together.
“You’re so kind…” she whispered.
I huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I did what was right.”
“And selfless…”
“You give me too much credit,Donna.” My thumb brushed her wrist – slow, yearning.
“You don’t give yourself enough. You were just a kid yourself. Raising another.”
I swallowed, jaw tightening. “I didn’t–”
“Three days and seventy miles through the desert?” She cut in gently. “You took care of him.”
The memory hit like heatstroke – sand, sun, bloodied knuckles, the weight of a little brother too light from hunger. I blinked it away.
“Thank you, Francesca.”
She leaned forward and hugged me – arms around my neck, soft sweater brushing my jaw, her scent flooding every inhale. I held her back, breathing her in, breathingusin.
“Thank you for telling me,” She murmured against my shoulder.
