Leon’s eyes go wide with fascination. “Whoa. That’s so big.”
“Yours is bigger,” I tell him, letting my shirt fall back into place. “You’re braver than me.”
“Really?” His whole face lights up, and he pulls up his own pajama shirt with eager hands, revealing the bandage across his small abdomen. “Mama says I’m brave too.”
“She’s right.” I meet his eyes, amber to amber, the unmistakable proof of our connection that anyone with eyes can see. “The bravest.”
“Mama makes me rest all the time even though I’m not tired anymore.”
I lean in slightly, conspiratorial. “She makes me do that too.” Leon giggles.
Mina huffs softly behind us. “I’m standing right here, you know.”
Leon dissolves into giggles, high and bright and utterly delighted, and I grin at him, sharing the universal male experience of enduring a woman’s well-meaning fussing.
“Does yours itch?” Leon asks, scratching near his bandage with absent-minded fingers.
“Don’t scratch,” Mina and I say in unison.
Leon’s hand stills immediately, and he looks between us with wide, surprised eyes. Then he dissolves into giggles again.
Mina shakes her head, but I catch the smile tugging at her lips. “You two are going to be trouble together, aren’t you?”
Together. A hot spark of pleasure travels through me.
I watch as she moves to Leon’s other side, my eyes tracking her every movement like I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I look away. Her fingers are gentle as she checks his bandage.
“Let me see, baby. Does this hurt? Any pulling or burning?”
“No, Mama.”
“You’d tell me if there was, right?” There’s steel underneath the gentleness. “Even if you think it’s not important, you tell me.”
“I promise.”
She nods, satisfied for now, and presses a kiss to his forehead before lowering his shirt again. But I see her protectiveness, that mama bear ready to tear apart anything that threatens her cub.
She’d kill for him.
My gentle Mina, who hums while arranging flowers and speaks in soft voices and flinches away from violence, would absolutely destroy anyone who tried to hurt our son.
The realization makes me love her even more.
Mina is pressed against my side again as she helps me back to my own room, her body warm and soft. I can feel something different in the way she touches me now. Her hand on my waist isn’t just functional anymore. She’s holding me like she wants to, not just because she has to.
We pass a window, and I catch a glimpse of the garden below, the roses blooming in neat rows, the fountain catching the morning light. My garden now. My house. My family inside it.
As long as we stay here in this perfect bubble, nothing bad can touch us.
We’re almost to my bedroom when my phone rings in the pocket of my pajama pants. I consider ignoring it, not wanting to break this moment, but Mina pauses expectantly.
I pull it out and see that it’s the nursing company.
“Mr. Montoni.” The woman’s voice is apologetic. “I’m afraid Dimitri is running about three hours late this morning. We can send someone else if you like?”
I glance at Mina. She’s not looking at me, but I can see her profile in the morning light, the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her hair falls over her shoulder. She’s still holding me, her arm around my waist, her body pressed against mine like it belongs there.
The words come out before I’ve fully thought them through. “No need. My girlfriend will help me today.”
