Page 45 of When Love Changes Everything

I reach up, gently lifting her chin with my thumb. Slowly, I trace the outline of her lips, feeling the softness of her pout beneath my touch. I lean in and kiss her—lightly, savoring the sweetness of those lips.

When I pull back, her eyes flutter open, and there's a spark there—a mix of longing and reassurance. "Kiss me again," she breathes against my lips.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I kiss her deeply, thoroughly, as if trying to erase all the doubts and fears that have clouded the space between us since she walked in the door. "I love you, Annalisa," I whisper, my lips brushing against hers. "I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I am a man for just one woman—you,hermosa."

Her breath catches, and I feel it, the slight tremor in her chest as her hand comes up to rest against my heart. Her fingers curl into my shirt, grounding me to this moment.

"You’ve already proven it, Mateo," she whispers. "With every word, every look, every touch, you've shown me you're mine and no one else's."

Her words ignite something deep within me, a fierce need to make her feel how irrevocably she owns every part of me. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing against her cheeks as I look into the sea of blue that is her eyes.

"I always have been," I murmur. "From the moment I first laid eyes on you, Annalisa, I was yours—long before I even realized it myself."

***

To make things easier, Lisa put her condo up for sale, and we paid cash for Philip's property—no banks, no delays, just a quick handshake, and it was ours. We got the keys two days ago, and the place already feels like home. Today, the furniture is being delivered, and the chaos has officially begun.

Noah, Adam and Aaron offered to help, so the four of us are here channeling our inner handymen, moving boxes, assembling furniture, and trying—and failing—to decipher the world’s most confusing instruction manuals. There’s a good dose of laughter and the occasional argument over which screw goes where—because apparently, everyone’s an expert until proven otherwise.

Meanwhile, Lisa is at Lily’s, helping the Linder sisters get everything ready for this afternoon’s big event: Lily and Noah’s gender reveal party. I can already hear the excitement brewing over there, with balloons, streamers, and no doubt plenty of guesses about whether it’s going to be a boy or a girl. All I knowis that by the end of today, the furniture will be in place, and the gender reveal will be the cherry on top of a whirlwind day.

***

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Noah wrestle with one of two coffee tables. He’s crouched on the floor, a tiny wrench in one hand and a scowl on his face.

“Whoever designed this thing,” he mutters, shaking his head, “clearly never had kids. One wrong move, and it’s a weapon.”

Unable to hide the smirk on my lips, I mutter. “You know, there’s no shame in reading the instructions.”

Noah glances up, arching a brow. “I’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

He turns back to the table, and I take a slow breath, trying to muster the courage to dislodge the words caught somewhere between my gut and my throat. I’ve been putting this off, but there’s no more time.

“Speaking of kids,” I begin, my voice coming out huskier than I intended, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Noah freezes for a moment, his shoulders stiffening just enough for me to notice. “What is it?” he asks without looking up.

I shift my weight, stepping closer. “Lisa and I… we were wondering if Davey might be our ring bearer at the wedding.”

The wrench slips from his hand, clattering to the floor. He sits back on his heels, finally meeting my gaze. His expression is unreadable.

“Davey? At your wedding?” His tone is cautious.

I nod, swallowing hard. “I know it’s complicated, Noah. And if you’re not okay with it, I’ll understand. But… I care about him. He’s a great kid, and we’d love for him to be part of this.”

Noah’s jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to the coffee table as if it holds the answer. The silence stretches long enough to make me nervous. Finally, he drags a hand through his hair and looks up.

“Davey would love it,” he says at last, his tone reluctant but sincere. “He’s been asking me all week about wearing a tie.”

Relief rushes through me so fast it leaves me almost speechless. “So… you’re okay with it?”

He picks up the wrench, a faint smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “I’m okay with Davey being your ring bearer.”

“Thank you," I say, feeling the tension easing from my shoulders. "This means a lot.”

"He also asked us if he could call you grandpa," he says, his gaze lifting to meet mine.

I nod, choosing to let him finish his train of thought before responding.

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