Chapter 20 Stassi
STASSI
The busyness of Rome disappears as we get outside the city.
Now, landscapes that you see captured in watercolor paintings surround us.
I keep looking over at Theo—his grip on the steering wheel is too tight, and his posture too rigid.
He hasn't spoken more than ten words since we got in our rental car and I gave him the address for the navigation.
I check the rearview mirror again. The black SUV carrying Theo's men remains three car lengths behind us. An ever-present shadow. A reminder that nothing about this reunion is uncomplicated.
"Are you worried they'll lose us?" Theo asks, catching my glance. "They won't. It'll be okay."
"No, it's just... you know you didn't have to bring them at all," I say, though I know it's pointless. We've already had this argument.
"It's my son, Stassi. Security is a must. For you too, you know." His words are firm. "I let you do everything else."
It's true. Surprisingly, Theo let me plan all this, down to the rental car. Granted, he wasn't quiet about it, but he let me. So when it came time to discuss travel, his men coming was non-negotiable.
I look out the window to a sprawling olive grove and think how simple life would be to just grow olives and make olive oil.
Jesus, I can't believe I'm bringing Theo straight to our son. After all this time.
With each mile, the tension coils tighter in my chest. My throat feels sore, like I've been screaming, though I haven't made a sound. I've rehearsed what I'll say to Xander like a thousand times.
But how do you explain this?
Remember when I said your father wasn't well enough to see you? Well, here he is.
"Does he still think I'm sick?" Theo asks suddenly, like he's in my head, observing my thoughts.
"I don't know if it's the right move, but I thought I would tell him you're all better now and you're here to see him."
Theo doesn't speak.
"Look, I have no idea how to do this. I'm just winging it," I say, his silence making me nervous.
"And whose fault is that?"
I take a deep breath.
"Okay. You need to stop that."
"Stop what?"
"What you just said. I know it's my fault. I know I fucked up. I know I don't deserve you or your forgiveness. But fear is what drove me away. Fear from your father. I'm trying to do the right thing now, Theo. If you want it all to work, you can't keep taking jabs at me."
Theo breathes deeply and taps on the steering wheel. Thinking. Contemplating my words.
"You're right. It's just... well, shit, it's a lot. And I know I hold some resentment toward you that isn't entirely justified now that I know the full story," he says and looks at me. "Guess I'm just winging this, too."
I smile. "We made a great team once, remember? We still can."
He gives me a side-eye. "Yeah, we were pretty good together, I guess."
The sudden rise of butterflies in my stomach makes me nervous, just like the night I scribbled down my number on the paper. I never thought he'd call me, but he did. Who would have thought a spilled drink could change the trajectory of your life?
The GPS announces our exit in Italian, and Theo takes it. We're close now, less than ten minutes away. I try to keep my breathing steady, but panic rises in my chest. Theo turns onto a narrow, tree-lined road that winds uphill. The villa should be at the top.
I can't help but wonder if he'll ever forgive me for it once he meets Xander.
Theo pulls into the driveway. The SUV with his men parks on the street, keeping a safe distance.
"We're here," I say unnecessarily.
The car stops, engine silent, but Theo doesn't move. His hands remain locked on the wheel, the afternoon Italian sun reflecting off the dashboard.
"Go in first," he says, staring straight ahead. "I'll wait here."
I blink, caught off guard. After practically simmering with impatience the entire trip, now he wants to wait?
"Why?" I ask, searching his face. "You've been desperate to see him since you found out."
"I don't want to scare him," Theo says, his voice low. "I want you to set the tone. Let him feel safe. Prep him before, you know, I come in."
Something cracks in his composure. Not the kind of fear that comes with bullets or business rivals, but the raw vulnerability of a man about to meet his son for the first time.
"He doesn't know me," Theo continues, finally looking at me. "I'm a stranger to him. You need to go first."
I reach across the console before I can stop myself, my fingers brushing his forearm. He doesn't pull away.
There's so much I want to tell him right now. That he's not a stranger to his son. That I spoke about him a lot and often, but I can't bring myself to say any of that because I don't think it'll help him. Instead, all I manage to say is, "Okay, I'll go first."
He nods once. "Tell me when. I'll be waiting."
I step out of the car, my legs unsteady beneath me. The Italian villa sits nestled among cypress trees, soaking up the Mediterranean sun. Marlena and I chose well—private, secure, beautiful.
My heart pounds harder with each step up the stone path. Behind me, I feel Theo's watchful eyes.
I knock lightly on the heavy wooden door, and it opens almost immediately. Marlena stands there, her gray hair up in a bun, eyes wide with relief.
"Thank God," she says, pulling me into a fierce hug. She's the grandmother I never had.
In truth, Marlena has been my only true friend since I left Greece. The only person who knew the truth about Xander, about Theo, about everything. The only one I trusted with my son when I couldn't be there.
She pulls back, scanning my face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I say, and then pause. "No, that's a lie. I'm terrified."
Her eyes drift past me to the car where Theo sits waiting. "That's him? Xander's father?"
I nod.
Marlena smiles at me and nods toward the adjoining room. "He's in there. Drawing dinosaurs," she says and rubs my arm. "He's asked about you every day. He'll be happy to see you."
The door to the playroom is ajar, sunlight streaming through the windows. I pause in the doorway, my throat tight with emotion.
Xander sits cross-legged on the floor, hunched over a coloring book. His dark hair falls across his forehead as he concentrates. He's humming to himself, some made-up tune that's half "Baby Shark" and half something else entirely.
My baby. Safe. Whole. Perfect.
I stand watching him. Noticing the way his small fingers grip the crayon too tightly, the dinosaur pajama shirt he refuses to change out of even though it's the middle of the day.
I must make some sound, because suddenly he looks up—his eyes, Theo's blue eyes, widening.
"Mommy!" he shouts, scrambling to his feet. The coloring book flips shut as he launches himself at me with the unrestrained joy only a child can possess.
I catch him, lifting him into my arms, burying my face in his neck. He smells of honey shampoo. I hold him tighter than I should, my eyes burning.
"I missed you so much," I say.
His small arms loop around my neck, squeezing with surprising strength. "I missed you too! Did you see my T-Rex? I made him green and purple because those are scary colors."
I laugh. "Very scary colors."
He wiggles to be put down, then grabs my hand, tugging me toward his artwork. "Come see! Lena says I color dinosaurs the best ever."
I let him pull me into the room, sitting on the floor beside him. He immediately crawls into my lap, a habit he hasn't outgrown.
I hope he never does.
"Do we live here now?" he asks, looking for the T-Rex to show me.
My heart clenches. We've moved so many times in his short life.
"Just for a little while," I say, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "But someone very special is here to meet you."
Xander tilts his head. "Who?"
Here it comes. The speech I'd rehearsed a thousand times in my head that now seems ridiculous.
"Remember how I told you that your daddy couldn't be with us because he was sick?"
Xander nods solemnly. "daddy has to get better."
"That's right," I say, my voice steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Well, he's all better now. And he's here to meet you."
Xander's eyes grow round. "My daddy is here?"
The question hits me like a physical blow.
"Yes, baby. Your real daddy." I cup his face in my hands. "And he's been so excited to meet you. He's been waiting a very long time."
"Where is daddy?" Xander asks, suddenly shy, pressing himself closer to me.
"He's outside," I say. "He wanted me to see you first, so you wouldn't be scared."
"I'm not. I’m a big boy," Xander declares, though he tightens his grip on my shirt.
"Yes, yes you are," I agree, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You're my brave boy."
We sit there for a moment, Xander half-hidden against me. Then he looks up at me, his expression suddenly serious.
"Does daddy like dinosaurs?"
I laugh. "I think so. We can ask him."
"Okay," Xander says. "I want to see daddy now."
My heart swells with pride and terror in equal measure. "I'll go get him. You stay here and get your best dinosaur drawing ready to show him."
Xander nods, sliding off my lap and immediately returning to his coloring book.
I walk back through the villa to the front door, step outside into the warm Italian afternoon. Theo is still in the driver's seat. When he sees me, he straightens.
I walk to his window, which he rolls down immediately.
"He's ready," I say simply.
He nods, opens the car door, and steps out.
The father of my child. The most dangerous man I've ever known. The only man I've ever truly loved, is about to meet his son for the first time.
I can see it in his eyes. The overwhelming feeling that tears open hearts and forces you to face everything you ever wanted and everything you were afraid to lose.
I recognize it, because I have it, too.
Theo stands firm, staring at the house, and I reach out and grab his hand without even thinking. "Come on, Theo. He's waiting."