His brother raised his eyebrows. “I saw you and Ann-Sophie leave, and she was clutching her belly. What’s going on?”
The question shook him back to the present. “She had the baby. A boy.”
Massimo frowned. “Is everything okay?”
Not remotely. But he said, “They are both healthy.”
His brother looked at him with a gaze sharp enough to make Alessandro look away.
“Why are you in my old room?”
The corners of Massimo’s mouth quirked up. “I was telling Catarina about that time I spent a good six months sleeping in this room.”
Alessandro hadn’t thought about that in a long, long time. “I forgot about your nightmares.”
Massimo had awoken, night after night, crying inconsolably, until Olivia had finally moved a second bed into Alessandro’s room to see if it would help. It worked so well that Massimo stayed there for months, until Olivia had found them awake at four in the morning, building an enormous racetrack for their cars on a school night. Massimo had returned to his bedroom, and they had all moved on. His brother was such a stoic, determined man that Alessandro, who didn’t make a habit of thinking about the past, had allowed incidents like these to fade away.
“Why aren’t you with the baby and Ann-Sophie?” His brother was as irritatingly direct as he was persistent.
“We do not have the kind of relationship that warrants my presence. Now that the baby is here, she will likely go back to Stockholm. I will visit them, to make sure I’m a part of the child’s life, of course.” He delivered this all in a matter-of-fact tone that only confirmed his decision. His voice was under control, even if it felt as if a knife twisted in his gut each time he thought of them.
His brother’s eyes narrowed. “I heard every word between you and our parents this morning. I am pretty sure the entire household did.”
“Then you must have heard the way I lashed out at Ann-Sophie, too.” That knife twisted again, cutting deeper. “I was angry and the words just came out. At her.”
He closed his eyes. Even saying this was painful.
“I had forgotten how awful Mother could be to you,” said Massimo softly. “I think I just blocked it out, but when I heard her, it all came back.”
“Poor little rich kid,” he said, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Massimo didn’t bite. “I should not have agreed to tell them about the wedding.”
“They didn’t come for it,” he said, his voice filled with bitterness. “Their appearance was just a happy coincidence.”
His brother shook his head. “They shouldn’t be in our lives. At all.”
“It’s okay. I’ve solved the problem.”
Massimo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ann-Sophie and I are over. Their poison won’t reach her and the baby, and neither will mine.”
“What?”
Alessandro glared at his brother, who was making this conversation more painful than it had to be, but Massimo just glared back.
“It’s better if I disengage,” he said with a finality that marked the end of the topic.
Massimo ignored it. “I heard what she said to our parents. She was fighting foryou.”
“I can’t give her what she wants,” he said, biting out the words. “It’s that simple, so drop it.”
His brother, of course, ignored him.
“Has she told you she loves you?” Massimo said it in that voice that suggested already he knew the answer.
“It was the hormones talking,” he grumbled.
