Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

A my

While I couldn't do as good a job as the woman at the counter did, I'm proud of how good my makeup looks the night of the event.

Matteo frowns. "I don't remember your tits looking so damn good in that dress."

I'm trying not to laugh. "They're as covered up as they can be."

The frown deepens. "I don't think I like the idea of us going after all. Both Javier and Rafe are going. Let's stay home."

"Matteo, I spent all this time getting ready. Please, can we go?" I plead.

Gold darkens. "Fine. As long as you remember your promises to me."

I never did talk to Hillary about how wet his jealousy made me—especially when I liked it so much. My clit is tingling at the mere memory, or maybe it's from the hope of another session like the first. "I promise."

We give Layla kisses before leaving, promising Doris we'll be home before ten.

Matteo opens the back door of the limo for me. We're being driven tonight so he can have a glass or two of champagne. When the car stops, I can't believe it. It's an actual red carpet. Rich, rich.

"This is city hall? Why is it so ugly?" It looks like a reverse pyramid, wider at the top than the bottom.

Chuckling, "That was pretty standard for architecture in the late seventies when this was originally built. We didn't do the initial build, just the update."

Inside, there is an enormous wide-open foyer. "My painting."

Rafe is holding court in front of the painting he bought from me. "You're going to need an agent. There are a few here who would love to talk to you. I gifted it to the city of Dallas. Looks good here, don't you think?"

The arm Matteo has around me tightens. A white card beside it has the name Amy Castillo and the title of the painting I gave the man who came to get it. "Amy Castillo? Rafe, what if she wanted to go by her maiden name?"

It's another shock, a wonderful one. It wasn't Matteo who made the assumption I would go by Amy Castillo as an artist. I wrap my arms around him. "Thank you for caring. I do want to go by Castillo."

Rafe's chuckle is loud. "I never doubted it for a moment. The same way I knew Kevin Broussard is looking to add a new artist to his portfolio."

"You're just…giving me a career." I don't know how I feel.

"Not in the least. Art is subjective except for one thing—it makes you feel something. If it doesn't, there's nothing I can say or do to get someone to buy it. Besides, what's the use in having a billionaire for a brother if he doesn't use his position to help you out a little?" His shrug is casual.

Before we leave two hours later, I meet with Kevin Broussard. He wants to represent me. From Rafe, I found that the man is one of the top agents in Texas. Rafe also assured Matteo that Kevin had a long-time male partner.

I think of Hope's words as she hugged me goodbye all the way home: "I love seeing Matteo in complete and total adoration of you. I never thought I would see it from Matteo. He was just always so...like smiling wasn't allowed. I like this Matteo better than who he was before he met you."

I understand what she means since I was what she described him as before I met him—cold and empty. I'm grateful we found each other.

Amy

Matteo took the day off so we can go house hunting together. After a week of looking with Elizabeth, I've yet to find anything I like. And I want his input on the house we're going to make our home.

When the realtor pulls up to the first house of the day, I'm wondering why we're here. I know it's not for sale. When I first saw it as we drove by, Elizabeth saw me looking at it. She told me she knew the family, and they spent the majority of their time in Aspen.

It's a gorgeous home that looks like it belongs in the French countryside. I swear it's got to be based on a castle—there are turrets at the front corners of it.

Before I can say anything, Matteo is out of the back of the SUV. Janet is on her phone. I follow Matteo only to find he's already inside. The enormous wooden door is open.

Barking catches my attention. "Where is that coming from?"

Oh my goodness, the cutest ball of fur is barking. I turn and find it running to me. Where did it come from? The dog is a twin to the one I grew up with. I'm down on my knees for the dog. I look up to find Matteo frowning down at the dog. His frown surprises me, making me doubt everything.

"Be careful. What if the dog bites?"

"You didn't do this?"

"Do what?" Another frown as he scans the enormous lawn.

"I hoped the dog was your doing." I sigh.

An eyebrow goes up. "A dog? I don't know. A dog is a huge commitment. It's a forever kind of thing."

I'm confused. "Just like having a baby together is."

"Ah, I'm glad you do seem to understand the difference." He picks up the dog and walks with it into the house.

Wait, where is he going?

There is a large two-story entrance hall. In the middle of it is a wall of green with red and white roses arranged to spell out: "Will you marry me?"

Mouth open in shock I look to Matteo and find him on one knee. The dog is still in his arms. I see it sparkling as he takes it from around the dog's neck. It's an enormous, intense blue sapphire.

"You did do this."

"I even went to a rescue the way you got Henry. It took them a few weeks before they got the dog they thought would fit us best. He's ten months old. The previous owner did do the buy from a breeder, so he has papers. But the owner died a few weeks ago. No one in the family was able to take him in. His name is Walter. When they told me that, I thought it fit your love of people names for animals."

I love the ring, but it means more to me that Matteo understood the breeder versus rescue debate and took it into consideration when looking for a dog.

"Well? You still haven't given me your answer. Will you make my entire world complete by becoming my wife and being the best part of me?"

I'm nodding as I fight back tears. "Absolutely."

Matteo

I exhale in relief at Amy's acceptance. Even though I was certain, a part of me needed to hear her say it. This is the woman for me, forever.

I'm back on my feet, slipping the ring on her finger. The moment it's on, her eyes are sweeping over the foyer and into rooms.

"Want to tour this place to see if it's where you want to live and build our family?"

She shocks the hell out of me when she shakes her head.

"Why not? Mom said every time you drove by it, you couldn't take your eyes off it."

Her sigh is heavy. "It's too expensive already. Then you're going to pay for it to get the family who owns it out…no. Let's keep looking."

This woman. I keep her hand in mine as I walk into the first room to our right, a formal living room with the furniture covered in cloth to prevent dust from collecting on it. "I'm a billionaire, Amy. And now you are, too. My money is your money. Which means we could buy this place forty times over before we would feel it."

She squeezes my hand. "Forty times? Holy freaking crap."

I chuckle as I bring her up against me. I'm trying to remember the real estate agent will come in soon. There's also the dog in between us. "Exactly. The owners of this place are more than receptive to an offer."

Another sigh. "Okay, we can look at it."

Janet is waiting in the foyer, her smile wide at the flower arrangement. "I love this for you both. You ready for the tour?"

Amy nods.

It's a home modeled after a chateau in France—complete with six-inch-thick walls—I watch my woman grow softer and softer with happiness with every step we take through it. I don't love the place as much as she does. The roof in one corner needs to be redone, the owner disclosed. I can clearly see water has affected the plaster beneath it. That promises to be a pain in the ass. If one corner needs to be redone, I would rather do the whole damn thing at once.

All the large open space Amy loves so much promises to be a problem if the temperature dips below fifty degrees. At least the place was built with forced air heating and cooling, updated less than five years ago.

Once the tour is complete, I think the real reason the owner was willing to sell was the cost of maintaining it. It's more likely they spent so much time in Aspen because it was less expensive.

None of that matters, though, because Amy loves it. Which means I'm going to love it—eventually. We end the tour back in the foyer, where Janet gives us time to discuss it.

The dog is relieved all the walking is done, even though Amy carried him most of the time. He settles down at Amy's feet and stares up at her in adoration. I think I'll grow to love the dog much sooner than the house.

Her sigh is sad. "This place is going to cost us a fortune, isn't it? I saw the water stain. And?—"

"And nothing. I saw how much you love this place. Let me give you the home you love." I don't want her to accept what she feels she has to. I want to give her exactly what she wants in every way.

"Okay, yes, please. Can we buy this home and build our family here?"

Janet is waiting with the paperwork. I give her the number I'm willing to start with. I sign off on it, and she can submit it from the driveway. Before we're back at the realty office, the offer has been accepted.

I was worried about the dog, but he's a chill little thing who sits in Amy's arms the whole drive.

Once we're home, Doris is surprised by the question I ask, as is Amy. "Sorry," I give Amy a peck on the cheek. "If you're happy with the way everything has gone so far? I know I am, and Layla loves you. I would love it if you lived in once the house is ready. It will probably take six weeks or so for the roof and the plaster work to be redone. We'll hire a devoted housekeeper, for when we move in. Your only worry will be Layla and our new baby we hope to have soon."

Amy rolls her eyes at me. "I'd love it if you said yes."

Doris is smiling wide. "I'd love to. Layla is a doll."

"I'm also going to need you to get your passport if you don't have it already. Over the next few years, I'll be taking Amy to sightsee art in the best museums. We will want you to go with us."

"Yes, sir. I have a passport that's only a few years old."

Layla begins crying. Amy kisses my cheek. "I'm going to go get her."

I'm saying goodbye to Doris when Amy comes back into the living room with a pouting Layla. The moment Layla sees me, she holds out her arms for me. I take her and give her kisses on her neck.

My phone rings. It's my mother. "I swear she knows we bought the house."

Amy laughs and takes my phone from me. "Hey, Mom."

I let their conversation about the house wash over me as I introduce a laughing Layla to Walter. Walter loves Layla almost as much as Layla loves him—it takes a few times to encourage her to be gentle before she figures out what I mean.

Walter hops down from the couch and runs over to the French doors. The rescue promised he was potty-trained, but that's no guarantee. I'm glad they didn't lie to get him out.

Since it's become overcast and sprinkling, I decide to let him wreck Javier's putting green. I'll buy him another one. Layla thinks everything the dog does is hilarious.

I catch the trail end of what Amy says. "—a birthday party for Layla."

I'm paying more attention when Amy's eyes meet mine and she shrugs. Since I'm lost, I shrug. I also feel bad. I forgot Layla's birthday is in a week—two days before our wedding day.

"Really, Elizabeth. I promise it's okay. You and Matteo taught me that. She's not going to remember the day. It's more for me than her. Just a day with her and her new cousins she adores and some cake is perfect for her."

I shake my head. It sure as hell isn't.

Amy sighs and hands the phone to me. "Since you and Matteo are in agreement, I'm going to let you two plan the party."

Taking Layla from me, she kisses me on the cheek. "It's her first birthday party, not her last."

I send my fist into her hair and bring her mouth to mine. "She will never look at pictures of her birthdays or special events and find them lacking compared to those of her cousins and other brothers and sisters."

"You're the best damn daddy ever." She says into my mouth.

I go into my office to get some of the information Mom needs and to write down shit I won't remember later.

As we move around the kitchen preparing dinner, I tell Amy about the plans for Layla's birthday. "There is going to be a small petting zoo and a pony. Elena and Ava loved it at the last birthday party. Mom thinks cupcakes are better than cake. Although Layla will have her own personal smash cake."

"A petting zoo?" Amy's voice goes up an octave.

"I believed loving my kids the same would be all they needed. Then the twins came over and asked if their dad would love them the same as his other kids if they didn't do what they thought he wanted them to. It was a crazy question to me. With everything I've seen from Rafe and Carrie, I didn't think for a second that the twins would question how much they were loved." I shake my head, remembering how much it hurt Rafe when I talked to him about it.

"It brought home to me that no matter how much I believed I would show Layla that I love her as much as I would our other children—she might feel or think differently deep down. I don't want there to ever be a doubt in her mind."

A hand goes up to her forehead. "I thought you and your brothers believed not spoiling them was important."

"It's not about spoiling them?—"

"It is, though. She doesn't need to have a petting zoo or pony to ride on."

"This is where the whole money thing feels slippery. No, we don't want them spoiled. At the same time, by not giving them things other kids have, it feels like they are being deprived. A part of me would rather spoil Layla than have her worry that I don't love her the same as her other brothers and sisters." I admit.

Her sigh is heavy. "I remember growing up hearing that all you need is love. My mother would laugh bitterly as she said it. In my childish mind, I used to think it meant she didn't love me enough to want to be the mom I wanted her to be. If she loved me, then she wouldn't need the hit of cocaine more than she needed me. It was my own fault that I wasn't worth her love."

Fuck, how can she say it so casually? I hug her tight, the pain more than I can endure thinking of her so young, wanting her mother's love.

"Now, I recognize it for the only prayer she knew how to make. If you love something or someone as much as you do, why can't it be enough? Why is love only a fraction of what you really need? And why do they lie that it is? Why is the lie told when the honesty, as painful as it is, would hurt less than the lie?" Her words are a mere whisper as if she doesn't know if she wants the answer.

Holding her tight, I press a kiss to her forehead. "Because we want it to be enough. Love is magic. There is no denying that. Feeling loved, loving someone—it's all magic. Love changes you, how you see the world, how it feels to be in it. Except there's only so much love can do, and we have to do the rest."

Matteo

Our discussion of love being enough leads me to my grandfather's home the next day. My grandfather's eyes go wide at the sight of me. He steps back to allow me into his home. I haven't been inside in more than twenty years. I'm looking around to find it hasn't changed much.

"Matteo, mijo . Is everything all right?" He gestures to the couch in his living room.

I shake my head. "I need to know, what is your issue with Amy?"

His hand goes over his mouth before running over his cheek. I've seen him do that when he needed time.

"From the moment I met Amy, I knew she was the one. I don't want to think of my life without her. If it's between you or her—I pick her."

His elbows go down on his knees. His eyes are on his hands clasped together. "It isn't about her, it's you."

I'm too stunned to speak.

Meeting my gaze head-on. "Your work was your entire world. It was something that would leave marks on anyone. You left it less than six months before you met her. There was a massive void in your life. My concern is that you're attempting to fill the void with her. Had you fallen for her a year or two from the change, while I still would have reservations about you becoming involved with a married woman—there would be no concern. Will you regret this in another four or five years, and where will that leave her and her child? That is my issue."

Since his words are much like Hillary's in therapy. I tell him the same thing I told her. "I'm not going to pretend I understand love. It's a fluid and boundless thing. When I left oncology, I can see now it was because it broke me and sent me into depression. Like anything else I didn't want to accept, I ignored it. Believing foolishly, I simply had to work harder to get through it. While I considered a woman and family, it didn't appeal enough for me to change my plan of filling my days so I couldn't feel the depression. Amy took that plan and shattered it."

His eyes drop from mine as his jaw hardens.

"I began seeing a therapist for Amy and Layla. They were the reason I came out of my depression. Having Layla look at me like I hung the moon did more than any pill could. Needing to be the man they deserved is why I went to therapy."

It's a battle not to allow the fear of losing her to overwhelm me. Even putting the words into the universe is terrifying. "Regret is not something I will ever have for the time I have Amy in my life. There are no guarantees in life. We're going to change and grow. Who we are now is not the same person either of us will be in five or ten years. My hope is we grow together in a way that makes us stronger because I can't imagine my life without her."

"If you're sure she's what you want. I will support you both." He promises.

"She isn't what I want. Amy and Layla are the only things in this world that I need. If you cannot accept this—us—I have no problem removing you from our lives to protect her from the pain your denial causes."

His chuckle surprises me. "As you should."

"I'm glad that's settled. Now, how about you tell me if anyone else knows you're dying?"

An eyebrow goes up at the same time his eyes shutter. "I'm ninety-two years old, mijo . We all have to go some time."

I shake my head. "Bullshit. It's your heart, isn't it?"

Clenching his jaw, he nods. "A few years ago, I spent time in Mexico having a bypass done. It bought me time. That time is coming to an end."

"Your doctor?—"

The shake of his head is firm. "No more doctors. No more needles and blood draws, and hospital rooms. I'm done. I've had a long life. I'm content my time is coming close to an end."

I sigh. "Have you told anyone?"

"No, and neither will you. Your mother was upset I didn't tell her about the bypass before I had it. She might have figured out by my insistence she divorce your father and marry me. It was my hope I would die with her as my wife. However, she has refused. I'm not going to use it as a means to change her mind."

"That's what you two have been fighting about." I exhale the words.

He nods.

"Why won't she divorce Dad?" I'm angry with her all over again.

"Because he doesn't want her to. With the divorce, it will free him to marry his long-time girlfriend. He doesn't want to marry her, but he's also not willing to end the relationship." His chuckle is bitter. "Despite not truly caring, your mother and I are in a relationship. He's guilting her not to divorce him."

I can't fucking believe him. "What if?—"

"No, don't. No, what if. Your mother has made her choice. And your father…" he shakes his head. "It would probably make him dig in his heels more. You don't tell anyone. I won't have the long faces and morose feeling." It's an order.

"You would ask that of me?"

"Yes." It's hard, firm.

I want to argue with him, fight for my family to be aware, and be here for him the way he needs. But I can't. So all I do is nod, "As you wish."

"Thank you, mijo . Now, tell me about this home I heard you purchased."