Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

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My stomach flips a thousand times during the drive. "Okay, so who is who?"

"We're going to Rafael and his wife Carrie's home. They're parents to twins Elliott and Riley and baby girls Elena and Stella. The twins are Carrie's little brothers that she raised. They're the reason Carrie and Rafe met when they tore up one of his construction sites."

"Oh my god."

"Yeah, not sure how they managed to wreck the CAT on site, but it turned out to be more than three hundred thousand in damages. Rafe got a little more than pissed and was going to press charges. Carrie went to him to try and talk him out of it. It all worked out in the end." He shrugs with a half-smile.

"Javier and his wife Hope will also be there. Hope used to be the nanny he needed after his daughter, Eva, was dropped off on him. Her grandmother decided she didn't want to take care of Eva after Eva's mother died."

"Oh my god." I shake my head. "I know more words than that. But damn, your family doesn't have normal beginnings to their relationships. No meeting on a dating app or anything."

His laugh fills the car. "Something like that." But there's something about the way he says it that has me studying him. "My mother and my grandfather, Luis, will also be there. While my mother is all for talking, my grandfather is not. Don't take it personally if he doesn't say much. It's just how he is."

The neighborhood of homes are actual mansions. Rich, rich. When he pulls into a mansion the size of my old apartment building, I fight the urge to ask if I can stay in the car. It's ridiculous, I know, but?—

A gentle hand comes down on mine that I didn't realize was in a fist. "Hey, it's going to be okay. They're going to love you. My family is excited to meet you, so they might be a little over-enthusiastic. If someone says anything to you that upsets you, you let me know. I'll take care of it."

His calm assurance, with the slightest edge that appears when he says to tell him if anyone upsets me, eases the twisting in my stomach. And starts a fizzing through my blood. With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he lets it go.

We're at the door. Matteo is at my side with a babbling Layla in his arms.

He holds out his hand, "Can I hold your hand?"

The question calms me in a way nothing else could. I nod and take his. Those bees are back, awakening every cell in my body to prepare for more of his touch.

Suddenly, the door opens. Two teenagers tower over me. They're obviously brothers. Despite Matteo mentioning they are twins, they don't look alike. One has dark brown hair and freckles over his cheeks and nose. The other has dirty blond hair and doesn't have a single freckle I can see.

"Hi, I'm Elliott." The dirty blond says with a welcoming smile.

"I'm Riley. Did you like the box?" Blue eyes are curious and eager.

"I loved it. I'm planning on the pottery class first. Thank you. It was so unique."

They're nodding in unison without even realizing it. Looking at each other, they high-five. Riley is proud of himself. "Yeah, Gigi was just going to gift card you. We were like, nah. It's gotta be fun."

"I loved all of it, especially the box. Thank you for thinking of it."

Riley nods and points to his brother. "That was Elliott. Him and Abuelo made it together. They make a lot of things. If Elliott didn't find ways to give stuff away, he couldn't walk around in his room."

"Riley, Elliott, you have to let them in. Come on, back it up." The deep voice is from behind them. The door opens wider. A man who is definitely Matteo's brother is there. His thick hair is darker than Matteo's, and he's maybe two inches taller than Matteo's six foot two.

"Rafe, this is Amy. Amy, my older brother Rafe." Matteo speaks to me, but his eyes are on Rafe.

The smile playing on Rafe's mouth is something I can't pin down, maybe teasing, maybe knowing. I take the hand he offers willingly. His eyes are on my other hand, still in Matteo's.

"Please come in." He steps back his hands go on the shoulder of each twin. "Elena is fighting a nap. Do you two mind taking her upstairs and?—"

Both take off running at high speed before he even finishes speaking.

Rafe chuckles. "To think we were worried they would resent her before she got here. Now, she owns them. Well, hello, you're a gorgeous girl. Hi, sweetie." Rafe is talking to a beaming Layla, who is waving at him.

Matteo says proudly. "This is Layla. She's teething a bit today."

"I can grab Elena's old pack-and-play. I pulled it out of storage last week for Stella's impending need. It's been wiped out and is ready to go." Rafe offers.

I look at Matteo, and our eyes meet. As if Layla knows we're talking about her, she clings to Matteo's neck. "Dada. Dada."

Rafe's eyes widen and he looks from me to Matteo. Matteo is looking down at Layla. "It's okay, sweetie. I'll hang onto you. No jail time for you. I don't think she's ready yet for me to put her down."

"Why are you in the foyer? Come in. Come in. Amy, hello, my dear. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

The woman is exactly as I envisioned: tall, blonde, beautiful, elegant, with enough charisma to turn a room of doubters into believers. Although it's clear from having her sons standing next to her she's gone to lengths to preserve her beauty, it doesn't appear unnatural.

She takes my free hand and squeezes lightly. "Beautiful, as your daughter indicated. Hello, sweet girl. Come to your Gigi."

I watch in astonishment as Layla practically flings herself at Elizabeth and clings tight, babbling the whole time as Elizabeth walks away.

We're walking deeper into the home, past open doorways leading to formal sitting rooms, a library, and a music room with a grand piano and several instruments lining the wall.

The family living area is more relaxed than any of the rooms we walked past. It's open to a chef's dream kitchen.

The man and woman on the couch look up from the baby in her lap and the toddler girl who is clinging to her father. I'm introduced to Javier, his wife Hope, and their daughter Ava. Joaquin is their son and only a few months old.

Rafe's wife appears and greets me with a hug. "Sorry, I'm a hugger."

I return it, oddly touched. "It's okay."

An older man with gray hair appears from the kitchen and is introduced as Luis—Matteo's grandfather. He simply nods at me.

While it's clear everyone is curious, no one says a word until Matteo does. "Everyone, this is Amy. We met at the clinic where she came in ill. I was instantly smitten. As her doctor, I didn't dare say a word about it. We got to talking about how she was a housekeeper at a hotel and didn't love it there. You all are aware of how badly I needed a housekeeper, so I asked if she would be willing to be mine."

He squeezes my hand gently. "When I found out she hated where she was living. I offered her the rooms in the condo for her and Layla. Don't be a lawyer, Javier, and tell me how many ways she could sue me for letting her know I was interested in her. If she sues me for harassment later, I'm good with it. She can have everything she wants."

I'm grateful he doesn't tell them the truth about me being basically homeless. He could have made himself sound so much better for saving me from myself when I was sick and even more so from the horrible motel. It almost sounds normal…not exactly, but almost.

"Except the toaster oven," I remind him.

His laughter fills me full. "Everything but the toaster oven."

I have a feeling both his brothers are aware it isn't quite the truth. Yet, they and their wives are welcoming.

"I'm so glad to see Matteo is finally smiling. He used to say Rafe was wound so tight he worried he'd have a heart attack before fifty. I thought the only reason he said it was from personal experience. I'll admit I had a friend I was trying to set him up with." Carrie giggles.

"No worries, I'm glad he found someone. No hard feelings about my friend—she wouldn't have put up with how bossy he is. I keep telling her it's not as bad as she thinks it is. I love my bossy husband." She smiles at Rafe, who meets her eyes across the room.

"I wondered the same thing about him overworking." Hope sighs. "He worried me. Javier said there was no talking to him. Matteo was dealing with a lot of guilt for giving up oncology. Today, he seems like a whole new person from last week—at least ten years younger and happier. It's adorable how sweet he is with your daughter. I'm glad he met you."

We look to where the men and Elizabeth are sitting on the large sectional sofa holding the babies, who appear to be trying to talk to each other and very excited to see each other. I blush. "Thank you, I'm glad too."

"So, are you from Dallas? It feels like lately everyone I meet is from California or New York. I'm originally from Houston, then I moved to Austin, then Dallas." Carrie is curious.

"No. I grew up in Temple." I don't want to talk about Danny and the painful two years in Waco. "I moved to Dallas hoping for a better job. It wasn't much better than what I left behind, though. I'm grateful for Matteo's job offer. Even though I feel awful, I barely know how to cook. He keeps saying he's fine with the premade stuff from the fancy grocery store. I started watching videos to try and learn…"

"I feel you on that. I'm grateful for our housekeeper and Elliott. All I had down were the basics. I've learned so much from Elliott."

"I'd love to teach you how to cook. Javier rarely lets me cook anymore—unless it's a special reason. You would think I'm in jeopardy of burning myself to a crisp or something. I'm not really complaining. It's adorable the way he refuses to let me do anything around the house. I hated giving in on getting a nanny to help. It's annoying how right he was, though. Two babies under two is hard. It would be awesome to have company during the day."

Her enthusiasm has me agreeing, even as I worry I'll mess up and give away I'm not really Matteo's girlfriend.

A little while later, I'm in the kitchen making Layla a bottle when Elizabeth approaches me.

"I love that dress on you, my dear. I have excellent taste." Elizabeth says without an ounce of humor.

"I wanted to wear it the moment I saw it, thank you. The clothes are beautiful." I'm careful to ensure no one is near us.

"No worries, my dear. Eventually, it will all come out. My other sons have no reason at all to judge. Their own love stories are not quite conventional. I am simply glad you learned to trust in Matteo. He is utterly besotted with you, and he absolutely adores your daughter." She sighs.

"I am so very grateful you came into his life when you did. I was sure he would become so wrapped up in his work that he would not look up and enjoy life. The moment he told me he hired someone to take up his slack in order to be there for you and Layla as a partner—I knew it was real. The Matteo who first arrived back in Dallas would have wanted you to fit into his world. He would have wanted you grateful for the hour or two a day he would spend with you." Looking down at Layla, she gives her a kiss on her forehead.

"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?"

"Because it's not a simple or straightforward process. Once I was sure it wouldn't upset you, I would have. It had to start with getting you an address here in Dallas County. There are a bunch of requirements around divorce in Texas I had no fucking idea of. One of them is you have to live in a county for ninety days before filing there?—"

"Ninety days?" Her words drip with fear.

"Hey, it's going to be all right. This is why I didn't want to tell you ahead of time. Your old boss, the hotel owner, was willing to provide the video of the day you came in, showing you had obviously been beaten. We also have a statement from the neighbor who your ex tried to attack. He heard him beating you. The lawyer is hoping we can use that to get around the ninety-day thing to serve him with divorce papers within the week." I want to pull over and hold her, except we're only five minutes from home.

"I've purchased a small house to set as your place of residence through a shell company unrelated to me and hired a rental company for it. It's less than a mile from us—close but not too close. The lawyer already filed an emergency protective order with that address. It was approved. Although it's only good for twenty days, there's more than enough evidence for it to keep being approved. She's already drawn up divorce papers and paperwork for him to sign away his parental rights to Layla."

"How can you be so sure he'll sign?" Amy clearly wants to believe me.

I exhale a laugh. "Money will get him to do it."

She shakes her head. "If he knows you're a billionaire, he'll demand more than he deserves. I don't want him making any money for all he's put us through."

"He won't know I'm a billionaire. He'll know I'm a doctor, and that's enough. Enough for him not to question where the money I offer him comes from. Not enough for him to think I'll be able to give him more. As for him making money, he won't have it for long. Once he's signed everything, I'll put the worker's comp insurance company onto the fact he's not as hurt as he says he is. They will sue him for the money they've paid him?—"

"Wait, he got money? When did he get money?" She's pissed.

"He received his first check a week before Layla was born. Since it included back pay, it was almost five thousand dollars."

"That son of a bitch. He had five thousand dollars but no money for diapers for Layla." She closes her eyes. "He's on drugs. He spent that money on drugs and the women he was cheating with."

Relief fills me. She knew he was cheating on her. "Yes, OxyContin and cocaine. He's got a few girlfriends. One of them is his best friend's wife, who lived in the same apartment complex you did."

Her sigh is heavy. "Can you please keep me informed of this whole thing going forward?"

I'm grateful when I pull into the garage and can give her all my focus. "Yes, I will," I promise her. When she doesn't say anything, I press. "What else is upsetting you?"

A frown appears. "Your grandfather… I didn't get the feeling he liked me."

I shrug. "I don't give a fuck if my grandfather likes you. We still don't have the best relationship after the whole refusing to pay my tuition bullshit. I understand why he did what he did. While he's apologized, we both said things we regret. Our relationship has never truly recovered. I'm sure me living on the other side of the country all these years hasn't helped either."

"I give a fuck." She whispers.

Taking her hand that's balled up on her lap, I squeeze gently. "He doesn't know you yet. It was one afternoon. In time, he'll see everything I do and lo—like you too."

She sighs. "It doesn't feel all right. But if you say so..."

"I do." As badly as I want to, I don't tell her if the choice was between her and my grandfather that I won't hesitate to choose her. She's still not ready.

I can't go upstairs and pretend nothing has changed when it feels like everything has. "How about we go check out the art museum?"

Her eyes go wide. "I'd love that."