Thirty-four
Matteo
I ease Amelia down into the crib, my hand lingering on her small back until her breaths even out. She’s still covered in mashed potatoes but that’s tomorrow’s problem. The room is quiet but alive with something I can’t name—hope, maybe. Love, though I’m still too afraid to say it out loud.
When I step back, Ellory is waiting in the doorway. She doesn’t speak, just watches me like she’s memorizing every move. The look in her eyes makes my chest ache.
I close the nursery door softly, and she takes my hand. Her fingers are warm, steady, but there’s a tremor there too, like she’s just as nervous as I am. Wordless, she leads me down the hall to her bedroom.
The lights are low, the room smelling faintly of her perfume and fresh linen. She turns to me, her voice barely a whisper. “Stay with me tonight.”
It’s not a question. It’s not casual. It’s her heart, cracked open and held out to me.
I cup her face with both hands, my thumbs tracing the softness of her cheeks. “Are you sure?”
She nods, her eyes glistening. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
My mouth finds hers slowly, reverently, like I’ve been waiting a lifetime. The kiss deepens, her lips parting under mine, and everything inside me shifts. This isn’t about need. It’s about her. About us.
We move together in unhurried steps toward the bed. I strip away her clothes gently, savoring every inch of skin revealed, the soft intake of her breath when I trail my mouth along her collarbone. She undoes my shirt, her fingers brushing over my chest like she’s discovering something precious.
Her bedroom is bathed in warm light, shadows flickering across the walls. Ellory stands at the edge of the bed, her blouse loose, her lips swollen from my kisses.
The sound of it slices straight through me. Not an invitation. Something deeper. Trust.
She nods, breathless. “Yes. I want you, Matteo.”
I kiss her slow, reverent, her mouth opening under mine, as if she’s been waiting just as long.
My hands roam down her body, easing silk from her shoulders.
It slips to the floor, revealing lace that does nothing to hide her.
My chest tightens at the sight of her bare skin, her curves framed by delicate fabric.
“God, Ellory…” I lower my mouth to her throat, kissing a path down the hollow of her neck, across her collarbone. She gasps when I close my lips around her nipple, tugging gently, my tongue circling until her back arches and her nails dig into my shoulders.
She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt, urgency in her shaking hands. I shrug it off, and her palms flatten against my chest, sliding over muscle, down to my waistband. Her touch burns, and I groan against her skin.
I lower her onto the bed, laying her back against the sheets. Her hair fans out around her, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her lips parted. I strip the last of her clothing away, slowly, reverently, kissing each new inch I uncover. Her thighs tremble as I part them, her breath quickening.
I stroke her softly at first, teasing, circling where she’s already wet for me.
She gasps, hips lifting into my hand, her fingers knotting in the sheets.
I slide inside her with my fingers, curling just right, building her higher until her cries fill the room.
She shatters around me, moaning my name, and I watch her unravel, the sight searing into me.
When she collapses back against the pillows, flushed and panting, I kiss her again, tasting her sigh. “So beautiful,” I whisper. “So perfect.”
I push into her slowly, inch by inch, savoring the way her body clutches at mine, the sharp intake of her breath, the way her eyes fly open and lock on mine.
“Matteo,” she gasps, her voice breaking.
I bury myself fully, groaning at the heat of her, the tightness, the way she fits like she was made for me. I stay there, still, forehead pressed to hers, giving her time, giving us both the moment.
Then I move, slow and deep, every thrust measured. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer, taking me deeper. Her nails rake down my back, and her cries turn breathless, urgent.
I kiss her through it all—her lips, her jaw, her temple—worshipping her with my mouth as much as my body. The rhythm builds, her body meeting mine, her moans rising with every movement.
Her climax tears through her again, her body clenching around me, her cry raw and desperate. The feel of her pulsing around me breaks my control. I thrust harder, deeper, chasing release until it slams into me, my body trembling as I spill into her, holding her as though I’ll never let go.
I collapse against her, burying my face in her neck, my breath ragged. She strokes my back, soft, soothing, her heart pounding against mine.
After, I stay inside her, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the moment. She curls against me, her hand resting over my chest, like she’s placing herself there permanently.
Her body is still warm around me when I finally ease out of her, pulling her close against my chest. The sheets are tangled, our skin damp, but she tucks herself into me like she belongs there. Her hair brushes my jaw, and I kiss the crown of her head, breathing her in.
For a long moment, there’s only the sound of our breaths, the steady thump of her heart against mine. I don’t want to break it. But I can’t hold it in any longer.
“I love you, Ellory.” My voice comes out rough, raw. I tighten my arms around her. “I’ve tried not to say it, because I didn’t want to push too hard. But it’s true. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as you need to catch up.”
Her head lifts, eyes searching mine in the dim light. They glisten, wide and unguarded. “Matteo…”
I smooth her hair back, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “I mean it. You and Amelia—you’re my whole world. I’ll give you all the time you need.”
Her lips tremble, but she doesn’t look away. “You don’t have to wait,” she whispers. Her palm presses flat over my heart. “I’m already caught up. I love you too.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through every wall I’ve built. Relief, joy, awe—every emotion I’ve been holding back floods through me.
When we break apart, I rest my forehead against hers, my chest heaving. “Say it again.”
She smiles, soft and certain. “I love you, Matteo.”
I close my eyes, holding her tight, because I finally believe I’ll never lose this. Not her. Not us.
For the first time in my life, forever feels real.
I wake to the sound of soft babbling through the monitor on Ellory’s nightstand. For a second, disoriented, I think I’m back home, then I see her curled against me, her hair a tumble across my chest, her breathing even. And it hits me all over again. Last night. Her words. I love you .
I press a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed to get Amelia.
She’s already standing in the crib when I open the door, clutching a doll to her chest. Not just any doll—the soft, floppy one with the blue dress that Ellory tucked into the nursery yesterday. Amelia squeals when she sees me, holding it up like she’s discovered treasure.
“Morning, piccola,” I murmur, scooping her into my arms. She shoves the doll into my face proudly before planting her damp little hand against my cheek. “Ah, I see. She’s the favorite now, huh?”
By the time Ellory wanders into the kitchen, hair pulled back in a loose braid, Amelia is settled in her highchair, alternating bites of banana with hugs for her doll. Ellory leans down to kiss me, her hand brushing my jaw. It’s so natural, so easy, it makes my chest ache.
After breakfast, and the careful removal of dried mashed potatoes, we take Amelia down to the waterfront.
The sun is bright but the breeze cool, carrying the briny tang of the bay.
Amelia toddles between us, her tiny hand in mine, the doll clutched under her other arm.
Every few steps she stops to wave at strangers, drawing smiles from joggers and tourists.
“She owns this boardwalk,” Ellory says, laughing as Amelia babbles at a passing dog.
“She owns me,” I answer, and Ellory glances up at me, her smile softening.
We walk slow, no rush, no agenda. Just the three of us. Ellory’s laughter mixes with Amelia’s squeals when a gust of wind nearly topples her, and I catch them both—my girls—against me.
And it feels easy. Comfortable. Like this isn’t the first morning, but the hundredth. Like this is what our lives are meant to be.
I slide my arm around Ellory’s shoulders as we stroll, pulling her in close. She doesn’t resist. She fits. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for something to go wrong.
I feel like I’m exactly where I should be.
By the time we make it back to Ellory’s house, Amelia has worn herself out.
She’s clutching her doll tight, thumb in her mouth, her little legs heavy with sleep.
I scoop her up and carry her inside, pressing a kiss to her temple before laying her down in the crib Ellory prepared.
She settles instantly, soft snores filling the room.
When I step into the bedroom, Ellory is pulling a dress from her closet, holding it against herself in the mirror. She catches my reflection behind her. “What do you think? Too much for your family dinner?”
“You could walk in wearing sweatpants and they’d still stare at you,” I tell her honestly, sliding my arms around her waist. “You’re perfect.”
She laughs, leaning back against me, but I can feel her nerves humming beneath the surface.
I press a kiss to her shoulder, and then rest my chin there.
“I should tell you…my aunt and uncle’s place isn’t just any house.
It was my parents’ home. When they died, my aunt and uncle stepped in.
They raised us, kept the family together.
” I pause, the weight of it still heavy even after all these years.
“It means a lot to me, that house. But with my brothers…it can get loud. Out of control, even.”