Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

A my

We're leaving the art museum again. I'm so damn grateful for Matteo asking if I wanted to come here again and tell him that.

He doesn't say anything until we're both in the car.

He's quiet for a minute, not even putting his key in the ignition. "I'm not a huge fan of art. I could appreciate it when it was in front of me. However, I didn't search it out. I went to the National Gallery of Art in D.C. for a date in the first few years of living in Baltimore—just once. All the amazing art close by, and I only bothered going once. Without you, I wouldn't have cared in the least."

"Is that good?" I'm confused.

"It's very good. And it makes me a little sad. As beautiful as it is, it didn't become that way to me until you."

"Ah, now that makes me sad." It really does.

"It is." He's quiet for a minute. "Thank you. This is something I wouldn't have without you. The way you know things about the painting and tell me about the artist… It adds another layer."

I blush at the compliment. "You're welcome."

He presses a brief kiss to my lips. "What do we want for dinner? Do we want to pick something up on the way home or order something once we get home?"

We decide to pick up some Mexican food. With Layla getting determined to use her now three teeth at every opportunity, I decide to get extra rice and beans. She loves beans, but she's hit or miss on rice.

Between the wait at the restaurant and how long everything takes, Layla wakes up again when we go upstairs. The minute she sees food, she opens her mouth for us to feed her. I feed her a small spoonful of rice. She spits it out. "Layla, gross."

"Ah, Layla, you don't like rice? Are you sure?" Settling her onto his lap, he offers her another spoonful. This time, Layla swallows it down like it's ice cream.

I roll my eyes. "She is a daddy's girl."

His grin could split his beautiful face in two. "There's nothing wrong with that." He assures her as he kisses her cheek and feeds her another spoonful of rice. "No, there isn't."

I'm shaking my head at them both.

Layla is asleep again as I clean up after us. "Are you going to lay her down for her nap?"

"I got her. What do you think about us taking our honeymoon in New York? We could see shows and museums and stay in a hotel or the condo my mom still has there. There's also my place in Baltimore. I kept it as a place for families to stay in, and it's empty now. We could see the National Gallery of Art. Or would you want to do the Paris thing instead? I think Paris has better art museums. The woman I talked to about planning the honeymoon gave me a comprehensive plan, but I don't know if we're going to be able to get the passports in enough time." Matteo has his eyes glued to his phone.

Out of all the questions, only one makes it out of me. "Married? We're getting married?"

An eyebrow goes up as he tucks his phone away. "Yes, married. What did you think me telling you that you were mine was about?"

"Matteo Castillo, I can't believe you. That's the worst proposal in the world. Those awful jumbotron proposals are a few steps up from that."

He rolls his eyes and reaches for me. I back up. When he sees it, an eyebrow goes up. "I love you, woman. You've given me a life. And a daughter. Why the hell did you think you were going to get away from me?"

I want to melt like a marshmallow at his declaration. But I hold fast. If I buckle, he's always going to get his way. "Nope, try again. I want flowers. I want a ring. I want the question. An actual proposal, Matteo Castillo."

His chuckle slides down my spine. "Fine. You'll get your proposal. It will come. For now, I need your input on where we're going on our honeymoon. We're going to Chicago for the Art Institute for three days as a late birthday present on Wednesday—after your therapy appointment. Going during the week will hopefully mean we get the museum to ourselves."

This man. "For my birthday?"

He nods. "Yes, if Layla gets a do-over for Christmas, then you get one for your birthday. I was told I was crazy for going to Chicago in February. We won't be able to go out on the water for our own personal architecture tour." One shoulder goes up. "That just means we'll go again when it's warmer."

Okay, maybe he doesn't need to propose. "I can't believe it. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Back to the honeymoon. Where would you rather go? I wanted us to go overseas, but I'm not sure we'll be able to get our passports back in time."

"You want to go on our honeymoon based on where the better art museums are?"

"Yes," he shrugs. "If it's important to you, then it's important to me. It's not like you'll never get to go. I'm sure you'll probably have more fun without Layla and me, but I also know it will take forever for you to go by yourself."

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

"It's been a few hours. Show me."

Matteo

"Why is he being such a prick today? He's only smiling at the babies." We've already eaten brunch and my grandfather is as far away from my mother as he can get while still being in the same house.

Rafe shrugs. "I think they're arguing again."

"I repeat, when is Mom going to divorce Dad?" I'm serious.

"Don't. Let them get to it when they're ready. Speaking of, when are you going to deal with the asshole. I don't want you going alone."

"I'm not going alone. I am not an idiot." I roll my eyes at Rafe. "He won't know I'm alone though. The security contractors will be with me, out of sight. They've had eyes on him since day two. I'll drive down to meet up with him tomorrow. We're meeting in his lawyer's office."

Javier's forehead is a knot of concern. "I should go with you. In case there's any question of law and to watch your back."

"No, you guys are staying here. If you come, he might recognize one or both of you." The last thing I need is for him to realize who I am. "Enough about all of that. I need your ideas. I kind of messed up with not having a romantic enough proposal. Help me out here. Give me something to turn her to mush. I'm already a little worried since it's clear she wants the big wedding. If she wants a big wedding, she'll get it. I just don't want to wait on anything."

"A big wedding? Sucks to be you. I was grateful as hell that Hope wanted a judge and some of her family."

"I liked mine and Alicia's wedding. Something tells me Amy doesn't want as big as what you're thinking. She seems like she doesn't like much attention."

He isn't wrong. "I was surprised. I hadn't thought she would want one. What do you mean?"

"I mean, she wants the wedding, but she doesn't want a hundred guests." Rafe sees I don't get it completely. "If there are more than that, she'd freak with having to be around so many people."

I'm relieved. This won't be so hard after all. "Do you think I should consider churches? I don't know all the rules and all of that. It's going to happen fast when it does. I'm hoping she's pregnant already. I don't care how old-fashioned it sounds. There's no waiting until after she has the baby for me."

Rafe exhales a sigh and shakes his head. "I swear it's like you're trying to give me a heart attack."

Javier laughs. "Whatever, you said yourself, he's been looking less miserable. Who cares if it's in a few months versus a few years?"

"Thanks, I'm feeling less miserable too. I changed all my accounts already and set up new trusts for her, Layla, and any other children we have. She's also in my will."

"Lawyers," Rafe mutters.

"That's how you know it's serious. You know, Matteo and his loathing of lawyers."

Too true. It's good they both understand.

As I watch Amy try to understand my mom's fake smile, I wonder If I should tell her about what's going on. Would it be betraying their privacy, or is it better for Amy to know so she doesn't ask the wrong questions?

"Your mom and your grandfather?" Amy exclaims loudly in the car on our way home.

"I think you woke up, Layla," I mutter as I keep my eyes on Layla. She startled at how loud Amy was.

"Matteo, your mother, and your grandfather are having sex?" Now she's whispering.

I can't help it. I laugh. "Why are you whispering?"

"I don't know, it sounds like something you should whisper. Because, oh my god, your grandfather and your mom..."

"Yeah, well. Apparently, it's been going on for a few years. I hope it means my mom and dad will finally get a divorce."

"Wait, your mom and your dad still aren't divorced?" She's back to whispering.

"Nope, supposedly the reason she didn't divorce him was money. While they're married, she gets the payment from the trust that's due to him. She gets the payment, and my dad gets his salary. Maybe it made sense when there were kids she was paying for, but she has to have enough money now. She's getting a hundred thousand a month from the trust—not even she could spend that every month."

"You get a hundred thousand a month from the trust?" She's barely moving her lips.

I nod. "Yes, don't freak out. It will go up with every life-changing event."

"What do you mean it will go up?" She wheezes the words out.

"When we get married, it will go up by a hundred thousand. Once I adopt Layla and with each child we have, it increases by a hundred thousand. It tops out at five hundred thousand per month." We stop at a red light. I'm checking her to ensure she doesn't pass out.

"Holy shit, Matteo. Your grandfather put all of that into a trust, then made it so you couldn't get it because you didn't fall into line with him? That is so shitty."

I bite back a bitter laugh. "Now you understand why I was so pissed off at him, and our relationship never really went back to the way it was before. It's why you're getting the allowance. I'm getting it for your support. As far as I'm concerned, it's yours. But my mom not divorcing my dad for more than twenty years doesn't make sense to me."

"Wow, I can't imagine being someone's wife for so long without loving or even liking him." Amy shakes her head.

"I don't get why she's resistant to the divorce. Or if that's what's going on between her and my grandfather. But I do think they've had an argument, and that's why they were both tense today."

"That's not cool. Your grandfather stressing your mom out like that." Amy frowns.

"Hey, we don't know what's going on. We need to stay out of it unless they ask for our help or input. It's none of our business." I caution her.

Shrugging, she struggles to contain her bottom lip. "It doesn't seem fair."

"How it seems might be different from inside. Don't get involved." I'm firm.

"Fine." She huffs.