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“Sheridan House is perfect for these types of days. It’s so warm and inviting. I’m actually excited to be home.”

“I’m excited to be home too, Marin. I’m even more excited that you call Sheridan House your home as well.”

We share a quick smile, a new bond between us. It feels unbreakable.

Lauren has been dying to talk to us, so we’re picking up sandwiches at a local deli, picking her up, and having dinner together at Sheridan House.

Tate, Joss, Lauren, Slade, and I all sit around the table in Slade’s home and enjoy a lively conversation as we tell them everything about our Venice trip.

They bombard us with questions, and we can hardly answer them fast enough. Lauren spends a great deal of time with my phone in her hands, swiping through my pictures.

“All right, you two,” Tate says as he stands. “I’m staying to hold down the fort tomorrow so you guys can get some much-needed sleep. Jet lag is about to hit you hard.” Then to Slade he adds, “The chef you hired is doing breakfast tomorrow as well.”

Slade gets up to shake his hand. “Thanks so much, Tate. Appreciate it.”

After Tate and Joss retire, Slade says, “So, Mom, I hear Matteo called you.”

She can’t mask her surprise. “He told you?”

“He did. Said you spoke for along, long timeand that it was averynice talk. And there were lots ofhappy tears. What exactly does that mean?”

“It means none of your business.” Lauren’s huge grin gives her away, though.

“That’s what I thought.” Slade shakes his head.

“Slade, are you okay with it?” Lauren is serious now. “Because if you’re not, I understand. I’m not even sure how I feel about it yet.”

“I’m okay with it, Mom. It’s between you and Matteo. It has nothing to do with me. It’s not my story.” Slade throws his hands in the air, reminding me of Matteo.

“That’s not true. It has everything to do with you. You’re our son. Whether you like it or not, this is your story too. I want you to feel proud of your parents, not ashamed.”

Slade is wearing his deep-thinking face, taking a moment before he answers. “You’re right. This is my story. It’s not the story I would’ve chosen for myself, but it’s mine anyway. The truth is, Mom, I want you to be happy. I want Matteo to be happy. I love you both. Whatever the two of you choose to do, you have my blessing. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lauren responds with a watery smile.

I DON’T EVENremember the following day. I’m like a newborn baby with my nights and days turned around. I sleep for most of the day, only to be woken up late at night by my growling stomach. I’ve been sleeping for nearly twenty-four hours, and I still feel sleepy.

I sit up in my bed with a smile on my face because I’m living in Slade’s home in Sheridan House.

I pad out to the kitchen to rummage through the refrigerator. I find some pasta salad and scoop some into a bowl. As I turn to head back to my room, I notice Slade is sitting outside on the patio. Looks like our internal time clocks are on the same setting.

I join him on the patio and notice he’s also having a bowl of pasta salad. We clink our bowls together as though we’re toasting each other.

“Hello, beautiful Marin.” Slade tries to mimic Matteo.

“Hey. Did you just wake up too?” I sit cross-legged on the chair.

“Yep. My body decided it needed food. Jet lag is a killer.”

“It was worth every minute. I regret nothing.” I stare out at the darkness, remembering the night Slade had me scream away my pain into the ocean. It seems like a lifetime ago.

“Same. Do you really live in my home or am I dreaming?” He takes another bite of pasta.

“Do you want me to pinch you? Those cheeks look really tempting.” I can’t help but tease him.

“My cheeks still hurt from all that Nonna cheek pinching. The woman is dangerous.”

“She loves you.”

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