Page 107 of Out of Control

I smile even though she can’t see it. I’ve definitely more than narrowed it down. I just need to figure out if I’m ready to take that next step and actually use it.

“Sof?”

The voice at the back of the gallery has me startling. “Lil? Someone’s here. I have to go.”

“Okay. I’ll be there. With bells on.”

“Love you. Later.”

I push the button on my phone to end the call and look up to see Cruz standing in the back workspace of the gallery.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the family dinner at the villa two weeks ago. It pained me to skip the last race, but I needed to for my own sake. I was busy and Cruz needed to understand that I meant what I said about everything—my needs, the woman I’ve become, and Rossi.

I worried about what might happen between them in my absence. Is it stupid to say I was grateful that Cruz ignored Rossi except for when it was necessary to interact on a professional and very public level?

His whistle is low and drawn-out as he takes in the place. “Whoa.”

I struggle with being stubborn and holding firm to my grudge by making a smart-ass comment like “you would have known what it looked like if you’d have stopped by” or simply accepting that he’s here and that he took the first step.

Our eyes meet and a lifetime of ups, downs, only having each other to understand, forgiveness, and acceptance passes between us.

He gives the slightest of nods—almost as if he feels that same realization—and walks around the gallery. I track him as he takes in the bay windows overlooking the sea, examines where each piece of art will be displayed, takes in the desk area that has our family story woven into pieces of it that only he’d recognize.

“This is cool,” he murmurs as he notices items that were el patriarca’s, our father’s, and our great-great grandparents’ that we never met. “I didn’t know you had these.” He glances up at me and then back to them.

I nod. “I’ve had them for some time and wanted to weave that history here, even if it’s just for us to know.”

I love the look on his face as he takes them in. “I didn’t want to stop by for a lot of reasons,” he finally says as he continues to move around. “Because we fought. Because it would seem meaningless if I came after the fact that you called me on it.” He stops moving and turns to face me for the first time. His eyes plead with me to understand. This. This is the brother who has always had my back.

“True to all of the above, but you didn’t come before we fought.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I know you well enough to know that you don’t want my name tied to here so you can say you did it on your own.”

Fuck. He’s right on that.

“Well, your silence and absence spoke volumes,” I say.

“And what did it say?” he asks.

“That you thought I shouldn’t do this. Just like all the other men in our family think I shouldn’t.”

“I announced it at Maddix’s birthday, did I not?”

“True, but then silence after that.”

His smile is reticent, almost amused. “I can see why you’d think that, but when have I ever not been supportive of anything you’ve done? When have I tried to hold you back from the things you want?” He takes a step closer. “In hindsight, I can see and understand why you’d think that, but I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you. I’m sorry I didn’t voice it out loud or tell you sooner.”

I hate that his words make stupid tears fill my eyes. I hate that I can be mad at him one second and then miss him and forgive him and realize how much I love him the next. “I didn’t need you to come here and say all that. I just needed you here, Cruz,” I say.

“I know. And I haven’t been here for you. I’ve been so consumed with myself that—”

“Understandably. It’s not like you’re not some huge driver or anything.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. Don’t let me off the hook that easily.” He steps forward and pulls me in for a quick hug. “You’ve always taken care of and looked out for me. I should have done the same for you and I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” I push at his chest, as this is getting too lovey-dovey. “Don’t let it happen again.”

He chuckles. “So you’re living here now in Monaco? Like full-time?” He raises his eyebrows. It’s so weird to me that he doesn’t know this when we usually know everything about everything. Shows our lack of communication.