Page 44 of Matteo

Matteo wasn’t mad. Not about the hours he lost to boring paperwork and not about me testing him. He understood, and he wasn’t angry.

“Please tell me you have a weird thing. You can’t be this perfect all the time. Do you have a secret stash of clown paintings or weird old puppets? Please.” I mutter, only half-joking.

His laugh is everything. “No, I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “There is one thing I’ve never told anyone. I mean, my brothers kind of know… I don’t want to say bad because I don’t think it’s bad. I know some people would think—I’m a Star Wars fan. It would be considered geek-level. I have the dialogue of the first three movies memorized. I’ve seen every movie at least twenty times because I have to start from the beginning when a new movie comes out. Since we’re baring our souls here, you deserve to know.”

Another long pause. “Please don’t tell anyone. Especially my brothers. They’ll never leave me alone about it. I’ll be teased mercilessly until the day I die.”

Matteo

It starts low, almost like when the old cars needed to warm up from the cold. The motor would barely hum, then grow louder and louder. That’s how Amy’s laugh begins. At first, I wondered if she was crying again.

When she pulls back, I hate letting her go, but I love the way she’s laughing so hard she’s crying again. Her hand goes to her chest as she tries to stop the great bellows of air she’s taking in.

Hearing her laughter soothes my soul after the heart-wrenching past few minutes. When the glass tipped over, I kissed an early night away. Shit happens. It wasn’t a big deal. Until I saw the abject terror flash on Amy’s face.

It was as if someone reached into my chest and pulled out my heart to show it to me. I wasn’t sure how I stayed standing. Every time she said she was sorry, it sent another lash of pain from a whip across my chest. I didn’t dare get close—standing over her might cause even more fear.

I put Layla on the floor with her favorite toy and prayed she wouldn’t pick today to become mobile. Then I went back to Amy who was on her knees wiping at the orange juice with the skirt of her dress.

The dress she was so happy in only minutes before. I went down on my knees with her. Although I hated the cold juice soaking into my pants, I didn’t give a fuck about anything until I got Amy in my arms.

I’m not one hundred percent certain anything I said made sense. It was all about reassuring her that it was okay. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t going to hurt her over something so small that was an accident.

When she admitted she did it on purpose, my heart broke. My poor baby, she was afraid. Her fear needed to know for certain she was safe with me. That I wouldn’t hurt her or Layla if something angered me.

Like her previous trauma response, I was a little surprised it didn’t come earlier. Until I realized she was finally feeling strong again. It was because of that strength the trauma response kicked in. If she had done it before she was feeling strong, she wouldn’t have been able to deal with being wrong.

If I failed the test while she was still unable to take care of herself let alone Layla, she wouldn’t have seen a way out. God, I’m a bastard.

Once she stops laughing, I meet her chocolate eyes. “You should stay with my mother.”

All of her glow disappears. “I said I was sorry. I’ll be better. I won’t do it again?—”

I press a finger to her lips, hating the agony in her words. “I don’t want you to go to my mother’s. I know it’s crazy since it’s only been a week, but it’s like you’ve always been here. And I couldn’t imagine how empty the condo, and I will feel with you and Layla gone. However, I see now I didn’t really give you a choice. Since you were already here and felt safe, you didn’t want to leave. Which makes total sense?—”

She wraps her hand around the wrist of the finger I have against her lips. “You’re wrong. I wanted to stay with you. Please, don’t make me leave.”

The relief is so massive that I exhale from my toes. “As long as you stop apologizing. About anything. You don’t need to apologize for taking up space, for being you. Do you understand?”

Tears glisten in her eyes as she nods.

“Good, go get cleaned up while I take care of this mess. Once you’re done, it will be my turn.”

She shakes her head. “I made this mess. I need to clean it up.”

“This isn’t just any mess, it’s your confirmation you and Layla are safe with me. I would clean this up a thousand times with a smile on my face while I do it. Now go on. Any minute, Layla is going to get upset at not being in the middle of the action.” I grasp her at her waist and lift her to her feet.

Eyes wide, one hand goes down to the table to steady herself. “I keep forgetting how strong you are.” There’s something I can’t define in her words as a smile plays on her sweet, pouting lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Watching her walk away, my heart is back together, shiny, and feeling new at how her spine is straight and her shoulders back. She’s never walked so confidently before. I don’t have to take her and Layla to my mother’s. Amy is here, and she’s not leaving.

Thank fuck.

Amy

Shedding the orange juice-covered dress into the hamper, I don’t feel like the same person I was when I put it on. Maybe it’s because I feel like a woman, not a scared little girl fumbling my way to adulthood.

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