“Your brother’s not wrong,” Nico says quietly after a moment. “She needs to come home, and you need to make it happen.”
I glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. I still can’t believe he was fine with his wife spending the night in a hotel, drinking champagne and ordering room service. A lot of room service. The charge that showed up on my card shocked me. “Don’t start, Nico.”
“Just like you didn’t hold back when it was me and Bella?” His voice is calm, measured, but the edge is unmistakable. “Youtold me to get my shit together, Matteo. Maybe it’s time you take your own advice.”
I push back from the table, the chair groaning in protest. If I fucking knew how to do that, I would.
Snatching up my coffee, I stalk toward the door.
Instead of following me inside the main house, Nico heads for his vehicle, leaving me alone with my morose thoughts.
Much as I hate to admit it, my underboss and consigliere are right. Maybe I reacted so badly because I know it.
When Nico was having issues with Bella, I was impatient and annoyed with him. How could someone lose their shit over a woman? But now that I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on with my life, I’m clueless, and worse, helpless.
Fucking annoying.
My whole life, I’ve known what to do. Each decision had been obvious, and once I set my course, I didn’t waver.
Even with Clara, I didn’t hesitate.
I loved her. Madly. Stupidly.
But never recklessly.
I’d considered proposing to her, but when she recoiled from the monster she believed me to be, I chose family and never looked back.
With emotional detachment, I locked the broken pieces of my heart behind my wall of duty, my lesson learned and never forgotten.
The clock on the kitchen wall shows it’s earlier than usual, and misery loves company.
I let Nash know I’m ready to roll, and he ensures my vehicle is brought around.
Instead of heading for the office, I go to my mother’s house.
As if it were weeks ago, she’s in the kitchen, a pot of coffee brewing, espresso on the stove. There’s a spread of food, as if she was ready for a visit from me and Nico, like it was back then.
My heart aches for her.
“Matteo!” Her eyes light up. Even though she smiles, there’s tiredness behind it. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
So who is she expecting? Or is she going through the motions, staying in her routine, as a way of coping?
“I wanted to check on you,” I say, bending to kiss her cheek. “How are you?”
She pours two espressos. “I’m fine,caro.Just…” She looks toward my father’s office. “Tired of the silence, I suppose.”
Until Alessia left, I had no idea how much I’d come to count on her presence. I even miss her bratty, sassy ways. With the way she challenged me, my life was never boring.
I appreciated watching her soak in the bathtub, seeing her marvel at the new growth in the gardens.
In such a short time, she filled parts of my life that I didn’t know were empty. I can’t imagine how my mother is managing without her life partner. At one time, this house had been full: of kids, of visits from his lieutenants and capos, from Roberto, his consigliere before Nico. Laughter, danger.Life.
“I was thinking,” she goes on, offering me a demitasse cup. “Maybe we should start our Sunday dinners again.”
“It’s a lot of effort.” I study her. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Yes. I need it, Matteo. And I have staff to help, if needed.”