Axel takes Luca’s hand and presses it against the cabinet. The door opens, and there’s another door.
“Ta-da!” Axel says happily, then opens the refrigerator door. “This is where we store food. Isn’t that cool?” He glances at me. “Your uncle can tell you all your favorite foods.”
I swallow hard. Axel must see something in my face, because he turns to Luca. “Tell you what, we’ll all go shopping together. First family outing!”
He raises his hand for a high-five. Luca studies Axel’s open palm.
“Just press your hand against mine,” Axel says.
I hold my breath, then Luca does so tentatively.
“Yeah!” Axel says once Luca’s hand makes contact with his own. “Sparkle finger time.”
He wriggles his fingers, then Luca does too. Axel laughs, bright and unguarded.
Luca throws me a look that says can-you-believe-that-man, and I shrug. “That’s your daddy.”
“Okay,” Sofia says. “I’m going home. You’re going to be fine.”
“But—”
“My kids are waiting, Enzo. Nice seeing you though.” She kisses my cheek, but when I turn to look at Axel, he’s glaring.
Weird.
Sofia giggles though, which is also a weird reaction. “My husband’s waiting too.”
Axel exhales. “You have a husband?”
“Uh-huh.”
Axel’s shoulders ease. “Next time, you should bring him.”
Sofia giggles again, then leaves the apartment.
The door clicks behind her, and then it’s just Axel, Luca, and me. The harbor lights glitter through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Axel is holding Luca, pointing out the window at the boats in the harbor, and Luca is actually looking calm.
I should feel relieved. Instead I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t take back.
Axel bounces Luca on his hip and grins at me, and I have no idea what my face is doing. “Roommates again.”
I look around at the sleek black kitchen, the leather couches, the view I’ll wake up to every morning. I’m going to live here. With him. The man I’ve been in love with for ten years.
My lungs forget how to work.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Enzo
I’m still trying to remember how breathing works when Axel turns to Luca. “You want to see your new room?”
“He has his own room?”
“Of course, he does.” He smiles at Luca. “You live here, don’t you? Silly uncle.” Then his face whitens. “Though, um, I don’t have a room for you. I’m sorry. Patricia needs her own space. We can move into a four-bedroom later. Boston has some awesome suburbs. Or we could go fancy and get a historical townhouse. We can pretend we’re all living in the eighteen hundreds!”
Luca blinks.
