Page 61 of Matteo

“Then he changed his mind about finally seeing the therapist Rafe found for him. Except it wasn’t for him, it was for you and Layla. In case he felt resentment for changing his hours for you and Layla. He didn’t want to put any of it on you two.” She shakes her head. “Thank you for loving my son.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I can’t swallow against the words threatening to spill out of me. I want to admit I loved him, but this is all a lie. Did she think he could come to love me?

Matteo mentioned he was going to talk to a therapist on Monday. We met on Saturday—he had to have scheduled the appointment before he met me. I don’t deserve her gratitude.

“If you want to go, I would love to go with you.” Elizabeth smiles down at me.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking of something else. Go where?” I blush to admit I wasn’t listening.

She doesn’t seem to mind at all. “To a pow-wow. I would love to go with you and Layla. Matteo probably would, too.”

I’m shocked. “You’ve been to a pow-wow?”

“Oh yes, it was a lovely experience. One of the nannies we had was from the Cherokee Nation. She asked if she could take the boys. I wanted to go first to see what it was all about. It was a marvelous experience. I agreed to the boys going. They went to a few before she moved on to a position in Oklahoma—to be closer to her family. Would you like to go, my gorgeous girl?” She kisses Layla.

Layla takes her bottle with a grateful smile at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth cuddles her close. “I am so glad to have more babies in our family. To see my boys happy with their wives is all I have wanted for years. My last one is Santos. I will need to work on getting him from our California office home to Dallas.”

Poor Santos, I wonder if I should tell Matteo so he can warn him that Elizabeth is working on a plan. “Matteo mentioned him briefly. Why is he in Los Angeles when everyone is here in Dallas?”

“Such a good boy he can be. He heard Javier moaning one too many times about our office in Los Angeles. Since he and his girlfriend were having issues, they thought it would be a way of solving those issues by moving from Boston to our office there.”

She rolls her eyes. “It only took all of three months before they realized their issues had nothing to do with geography. Thankfully, they have parted ways for the hundredth and last time. I did not like her. She treated him as though he was lucky to have her due to his dyslexia. I almost bit my tongue clean off every time I spent more than ten minutes in her company.”

Anger flares through me. “Dyslexia doesn’t mean dumb, what a bitch.” Oh no, she doesn’t seem like the type to curse. “I apologize. Years of dealing with…I have dyslexia as well.”

Her smile is serene. “She was indeed a bitch. I agree with you. However, I did not dare say it loudly. Santos would not have welcomed my opinion.”

“Mother, you can’t keep her all to yourself.” Matteo appears at my side. His eyes are on a sleeping Layla. “Carrie would like to eat. I’ll take Layla and put her in the pack-and-play after all while we eat.”

I’m a little confused. Nothing is on in the kitchen. I follow Elizabeth to the dining room hesitantly.

The table is groaning with food. I see through the French doors was cooked in the outside kitchen. An outside kitchen, rich, rich.

Matteo is back. Taking my hand, he guides me to a place at the table right beside him. His grandfather is at the head of the table on Matteo’s other side. Rafe is at the other head of the table.

There’s a breakfast casserole with hash browns, gravy, sausage, and eggs; a pizza with eggs and bacon. As well as several large bowls scattered throughout the table filled with bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage gravy, biscuits, and croissants.

I’m not an adventurous eater. I stick with scrambled eggs, biscuits, and bacon. Matteo pours me a glass of orange juice without me asking.

His grandfather asks Matteo about his work and expanding the clinic. The conversation lasts for several minutes while I talk to Elliott, who is on the other side of me, about how he loves cooking. He was the cook and planned the menu.

During a small lull in the conversation, Luis smiles at me and asks. “When will you be divorcing your husband?”

The question stuns me. Matteo lays a hand on my own. “I am dealing with it. He is a violent man. The lawyer is working to ensure Amy and Layla are as safe as possible.”

I look to Matteo. He’s working on it? He hired a lawyer? Relief and annoyance battle within me. Matteo feels it, and his eyes meet mine. The message is clear—we’ll discuss it later.

“Good.” Luis nods at Matteo. He turns to Riley, who is on his other side. “You got into helping your brother and added nutmeg again, didn’t you?”

Just like that, Luis is done with me.

It’s another two hours before we leave with a still-sleeping Layla. Everyone waves goodbye with genuine smiles…except Luis.

Matteo

The moment we’re in the car, Amy asks the question she’s been holding in. “Why didn’t you tell me about the lawyer?”

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