“He told me enough,” she says. “But Alonso kept me in the loop about what was happening outside of what Gino told me. Not everything, though. I knew they were holding back. They didn’t want me so scared that I’d shut down.” She sighs. “Now that you’re home, will you please tell me something?”
“I don’t want you to hate your brother, because I know he did everything he could. But it was torture. Real torture. They cut me. Burned me. When that didn’t work, they went after me mentally. They never mentioned you, though. If they had, I would’ve tried to kill them, and that probably would’ve gotten me killed.”
She stops, turning to me with wet eyes. I pull her into my arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.
“I don’t think you planned on doing all of this your first day home,” she says quietly, glancing around the now-clean living room.
“No,” I murmur, kissing her softly. “But this is exactly where I want to be. It’s getting late. We should go to bed.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I take her hand and lead her upstairs to our bedroom. Once inside, I guide her to the bed and lift the hem of her blue T-shirt, pulling it gently over her head.
“I should probably shower,” she says.
“If you want,” I murmur, “but you don’t. You look perfect.”
She snickers. “I promise I’ll only be ten minutes. I’ve mastered the art of fast showering.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I kiss her forehead, and she all but runs to the bathroom.
Almost the second the door clicks shut, the baby monitor crackles with crying. Then the second one joins in.
I sigh and head down the hall toward the nursery.
When I open the door, I pause, taking a steadying breath.I can do this.
Both cribs are in front of me, two tiny faces staring back.
“Alright,” I mutter, bracing my hands on the rails, “which one of you started all that?”
Victoria makes a sound that’s almost a giggle. Julian just looks at me like I’ve ruined his entire existence.
Yeah, same, buddy.
Julian starts fussing, so I lift him out of his crib, which only makes him wail louder.
“Okay, okay,” I murmur, rocking him. “Let’s not freak your mom out.”
He settles a little, still sniffling.
“What do you need, huh?” I check his diaper out of instinct. It’s fine. They just ate. That’s not it.
I spot the rocking chair in the corner.
Shifting Julian to my left side, I scoop up Victoria with my right arm and carry them both over, lowering myself into the chair.
“Alright,” I whisper. “Let’s try this together.”
Holding both of them brings a strange, steady calm. For years I’ve wanted to be a father, to be the person someone runs to when they scrape their knee or get their heart broken. I wanted to teach a kid how to ride a bike, how to throw a football.
Now I have it. With these two.
I glance down and realize they’re both asleep. A slow smile spreads across my face. I actually did it.
I don’t know how long I sit there before I feel the weight shift. Panic jolts through me and my eyes fly open. Vanessa has already put Victoria back in her crib and is standing in front of me.
“Sorry,” I mumble, yawning.
