“Don’t worry,” I add. “Alonso didn’t stay the night, and I’m not his type.”
He looks at me. “What do you mean, not his type?”
“I’m just not,” I say firmly. “And please don’t ask me to expand on that.” I don’t want to share something that private, even with my husband.
“Okay.” He pauses. “Do you want to go over to Gino’s soon?I should probably stop by at some point, considering I ran out of his house yesterday.”
We finish breakfast and clean up the dishes. Upstairs, we put the twins down for a nap.
“I am going to shower, and then we can head over to Gino’s?”
“Works for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I step into the bathroom and turn the shower on, setting it as hot as I can stand. The stress of the last year has mostly faded, but the fear of what comes next still lingers. Watching Mateo over the last day, I see the man I fell in love with, but I also see the pain he’s been carrying, both physical and mental. The small scars scattered across his body tell a story I don’t need explained. The torture alone must have been unbearable at times.
I sink down onto the shower floor and let the water pour over me as everything hits at once. I’m happy he’s home. I’m angry it took so long to get him back. I’m heartbroken over what he had to endure.
The man I married was loving, kind, sweet, and protective. He is still all of those things, but now they’re buried beneath the pain he hasn’t fully processed yet. He’s been home a day, and I know nothing will be fixed overnight. The wounds won’t heal that easily.
I saw it in his eyes when I told him about his friends, his brothers, stepping in and helping with everything while he was gone. The way he looked at me told me how much time he wants to make up for, how deeply it weighs on him that he couldn’t be here.
I don’t know how long I have been in the shower when I hear a soft tap against the glass. I look up to find Mateo standing there, looking down at me with a gentle smile. I smile back at him and push myself to my feet.
“I’m almost done, I promise. Give me five minutes,” I say.
“Take your time,” he replies.
I finish my shower quickly and shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around myself, I step in front of the mirror and swipe on tinted moisturizer and mascara. I don’t feel the need to wear much makeup anymore. I brush out my hair and let it air-dry, not wanting the blow dryer to wake the babies.
I leave the bathroom and head toward the closet. Mateo is already getting dressed, black slacks on, pulling a white button-down from a hanger. Watching him, it’s clear he hasn’t missed a beat. He’s barely been home a day, and he’s already slipping back into professional mode.
I slide my hands around his waist and kiss his back, letting the towel fall away, my hair still dripping wet.
“Why are you getting dressed in a suit?” I ask.
“It makes me feel back to my old self,” he says. “I wore this every day before last year, and I want to get back to what I was doing.”
I smile against his skin. “I don’t think Gino would mind if you didn’t wear a suit.”
“I know it seems weird, but this helps me forget the bullshit I had to deal with last year.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. He’s right. If this makes him feel comfortable, I shouldn’t stop him.
I let go of him and move to my side of the closet. After a moment, I choose a blue wraparound sundress, something easy to breastfeed in once the twins wake up. I put on my usual jewelry, skipping the ring-holder necklace. I don’t feel the need to wear it anymore.
When I turn back around, Mateo is fully dressed, suit and all, looking as good as ever. I can’t look away. I’m completely transfixed by the sight of himstanding there.
Mateo breaks me out of my trance. “I’m going to go to my office for a bit.”
His gaze drags slowly over my body, deliberate, knowing, and I feel it everywhere. A shiver runs through me.
I nod, and he leans in to press a kiss to my temple. “You look sexy as fuck in that dress,” he murmurs, meeting my eyes. “I might need to take it off you later.”
He turns and heads downstairs.
Almost on cue, one of the babies starts to cry. I leave the bedroom and step into the nursery. It’s about time for them to wake from their nap anyway. I lift Victoria and Julian and settle into the rocking chair, loosening the top of my dress so they can eat.
After ten minutes, they’re both finished. I carry them to the changing table, swapping out diapers and pulling them into clean outfits.
