Luca reacted much in the same vein to Romeo when he decided to move his family, indefinitely, to the place where his wife was from—not far from us.
At least Matteo would have them. He and Angelo were close.
It still didn’t seem to matter to him, though. This was not his place. His place was with his grandfather. Matteo had spent a lot of time with him. Time that he didn’t refuse me, but I always felt he would rather spend with Luca. I didn’t begrudge their bond. In fact, in some ways I hoped Matteo could get to know him better than I had. On the other hand, though, it was hard to temper the jealousy when my son’s eyes lit up when he walked into the room.
Mariano followed his older brother into the yard, both of them looking around.
Matteo was disgusted, the scenery not good enough. He had become accustomed to the rolling fields of Tuscany. The endless amount of space. The pool. The house he’d grown up in.
Although Mariano agreed, and went along with the fucking pity party, there was something in him that wanted to explore, to see if it was worthy of the hate.
That was when I saw myself in him. He had an adventurous spirit, but it was hidden in his brother’s shadow.
Ruby trailed behind them, followed by Max, an addition we got right after Mariano was born. Everett felt we needed another Doberman, this one male. Both dogs were loyal beyond man and always kept eyes on our children.
Mariano’s hand rested on Max’s scruff as he stared at his older brother, whose face held nothing but resentful desolation.
A long branch hung in his hand, his head turned up to the sky, like he could transport himself back to Italy by sadness alone. If it wouldn’t have been heart-wrenching for me to watch, it would have been comical.
Then I almost scoffed when one word broke through the barrier of my thoughts.Quieter. Not by much. Our children alone were enough to cause a grand band of noise, but add into the mix Romeo’s children, and Italy wasn’t far behind.
Cerise and Dimitri had purchased a house down the street. Since Donato, Guido, and Vincenzo would be staying behind with Rocco, Dimitri had volunteered to head up our security detail. Part of that was because Luca, though he refused to speak to me, wanted to keep tabs on us.
Luca also wanted to keep his granddaughter content by sending her best friend with her. The best he could do for Matteo was agreeing to allow Romeo to leave with his family, so some of his cousins would be close, and his vow to speak to him every day over the phone.
The position was a step down for Dimitri. Italy was where it was at, because our security detail was much smaller. We didn’t need the protection that we did abroad. The thought made me feel more secure in my decision to leave. Even if Matteo had to suffer for a while, it would be for the greater good of his life.
Mia and Livia circled the roses, practicing their dancing and laughing. Matteo gave them a stern look, like they had disturbed his moping, then shook his head and walked away, two shadows following. Ruby decided to stay close to Mia, finding a place in the sun to rest her eyes.
Scarlett wrapped her arms around my waist, lifting on her toes to kiss my neck. I shivered from the coolness of her mouth.
“Tell me you still love me,” I said, rubbing her arms.
“Now you’re just feeling sorry for yourself.”
“It’s going around.” I grinned. “Cure me.”
“You know I do, Brando,” she whispered. “Your son still loves you too.”
“Not as much as Luca.”
“Not true. Now if you’ll give me a moment, I need to get out the proverbial violin.” She cleared her throat, then pretended to play the scratchiest air violin I’d ever heard.
I shook with laughter, and she did too, holding me tight again, her face pressed against my back.
“Apart from the adjustment period the kids are feeling, how does it feel to be back?” she whispered.
The answer refused to come to me in terms of words. In the silence, we both became quiet, staring out of the window in the kitchen.
“You first,” I whispered, taking her hand and rubbing my thumb against the spot she’d cut years ago, when she was washing dishes in the sink, right after I bought the house for her. She’d needed stitches.
Not long after, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I sent her to Paris.
The thought seized me so violently that my hand squeezed hers, hard enough that she made a breathless noise. If she felt nothing else, I knew she felt the desperation in that one movement.
Lessening my hold, I felt her relax, holding me closer.
“I’m home, Brando.” She sighed. “With you. Always with you.Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live.”
