“You don’t have to – ”
“I’m in love with you too, Matteo,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could overthink them.
“Yeah?”
“I feel it in my chest, but…” I whispered. “It hurts.”
His hand slid up my back, firm and warm. “That’s because you need to let it out, baby.”
He kissed me, slow and deep. Intimately.
“Give it to me,” he murmured against my lips. “Let me feel it.”
Another kiss, softer this time.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,amor.”
“I love you,” I repeated, my voice almost breaking. “So much, it’s scary.”
“I love you more,mi vida.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Your…Life?”
“My life,” He repeated.
“My heart.” He pressed his hand flat against my chest.
“My love.” He took my face in both hands, thumbs brushing just beneath my eyes.
“Myeverything.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me impossibly close, his lips finding mine, his warmth surrounding me completely.
Chapter 35
Present
Upper-East Side, New York City
SUNDAYS IN LONG ISLAND ALWAYS felt slower, softer – like the estate itself exhaled relief when we visited. Winter sunlight spilled across the marble foyer, pale and cold through floor-to-ceiling windows. Mom’s laughter echoed faintly somewhere deeper in the house.
It was peaceful. Or it should have been.
I sat across from my father in the sunroom, glass walls opening to dormant gardens dusted with February frost. My tea steamed between us, a delicate wisp against the winter light.
He’d been in a good mood – almost radiant with plans and the upcoming sit-down. We were waiting for lunch to be plated.
Everything was normal. Easy.
Until he asked, casually as if discussing weather, “How are things with Matteo?”
A warmth curled in my stomach. A smile I didn’t fight tugged at my lips.
“All’s good,” I said lightly, stirring my tea. “We… Get along.”
“Bene.” He nodded, pleased. “I’m glad.”
I felt that warmth widen. My father’s approval was precious. But then – he kept speaking, unaware he was pulling a thread I didn’t know existed.
