Chapter 7 Serenity
Serenity
By the third morning, Mattie and I had fallen into a comfortable routine.
Each morning we gathered at the big kitchen island with sunlight slanting in through the windows.
The house was still mostly quiet during those first few minutes except for the hum of the coffeemaker.
Over a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast cut into fourths, and bacon, Mattie and I talked about our plans for the day.
Enzo usually joined us with his crisp sleeves rolled up and his ever-present jacket nowhere in sight.
He drank his coffee black, standing most of the time, listening more than he spoke.
When we talked about plans for the day—lessons, outside time, reading, creative work—he nodded along, occasionally asking a question that proved he’d been paying attention all along.
He was a good dad, something that had become clear very early on.
He and Mattie had an easy relationship filled with casual affection, smiles, and an admirable honesty that spoke to a deep level of mutual trust. He listened when Mattie spoke and gently corrected him when necessary.
There was nothing performative in Enzo’s style of parenting, and I hated that I noticed anything good about Enzo, more than I could’ve possibly guessed.
There was still good in him, and if I was being honest with myself, he wasn’t some hardened criminal; at least he wasn’t just that.
I told myself it meant nothing, that being a decent father didn’t erase who Enzo DeRossi was or what he’d done.
But sometimes when I glanced up, I caught glimpses of the boy I used to love.
The way his eyes crinkled at the corners reminded me of just how much fun we’d always had together.
The deep laugh that was just a little louder than was polite did too.
He never cared when his laugh drew attention; he was always focused on me.
Beneath that easygoing smile and those relaxed eyes was an intensity that was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
Noticing that made my chest ache in ways I refused to examine too closely.
My dates with Mattie were wonderful. He was a smart and inquisitive little boy who had a big heart. Just a few days in, he was the perfect reminder of why this job mattered.
But all of my days ended with me sitting across an expansive desk from Enzo in his office with the dark walls closing in on me.
His all-seeing green eyes bore into me for exactly one minute before he demanded updates.
“How is Matteo?” he asked, using the same cold, businesslike tone each day that made it feel more like a board meeting than a parent-teacher conference.
I inhaled deeply, and the answer always came on the exhale. “Mattie is doing great. He’s smart and kind, well-adjusted, and eager to learn.”
That wasn’t enough for Enzo. “Where is he succeeding?”
“He is above average to varying degrees in all subjects,” I answered, my tone matter-of-fact.
Enzo nodded. “And where does he need more help or guidance?”
“It’s still early, but language structure. That will improve the more we read together.” I had answers for all of his questions and I supplied them in an even tone. I kept my posture upright but calm, all while maintaining a cool, professional distance.
It was painful, being so close to him. Proximity made the past come roaring back in vivid, visceral color. The way he said my name and the way his eyes softened just a fraction when he looked at me were hard to ignore. My days, so far, ended with the same kick to the heart.
But the most annoying and terrifying part of all?
Each day that kick hurt a little less.
Forgetting that pain, no matter the reason, was a direct path back to heartache, and what kind of fool would I be to invite that into my life again?
The worst kind of fool. The kind who failed to learn a valuable and painful lesson.
“Are you listening, Ren?”
I blinked, pulled sharply back into the present. Mattie stood in front of me, hands on his hips, his green eyes suspicious. “Sorry,” I said with a chuckle. “I must’ve been daydreaming.”
He giggled, the sound an instant balm to the pain of the past.
“It happens even to grown-ups.”
“What were you daydreaming about?” he asked, curiosity written all over his face.
I hesitated for only a moment. “I was thinking about how much you remind me of your dad. He was always so curious about every little thing, and he asked lots of questions.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
I nodded. “Yep.” It wasn’t just those green eyes either, though they were identical. “You don’t see it?”
Mattie shook his head, looking genuinely stunned. “He’s so big and awesome.”
“You’re awesome too,” I assured him. “The big part comes with age. Your dad was a little boy once.”
That made him laugh, loud and unselfconscious, and something in my chest softened in response.
We finished lessons by early afternoon. I uploaded everything through the VPN Enzo’s security team had set up to ensure Mattie didn’t fall behind during his time away.
The system was efficient and encrypted, and given the threat he’d spoken about, it was exactly the right amount of caution.
It was odd, operating each day with that level of protection surrounding us, humming quietly and effectively in the background.
When it was time for play, Mattie bounced on his toes. “Can we do something outside?” he asked, wearing the same excited grin every day.
I scanned the backyard outside the window, taking in the tall trees that provided excellent cover and the seemingly endless carpet of green.
I couldn’t see them, but I knew there were cameras all over the property, invisible to the naked eye but omnipresent.
I tapped my chin as if I had to think about it even though I had a plan.
“I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’re up for it. ”
“What is it?” he asked, his question too loud.
“Have you ever done a scavenger hunt?”
His eyes sparkled with excitement, but he shook his head. “What’s that?”
I explained it simply. “We’ll write up clues for one another to help us find each object,” I said, pulling out two bags filled with toys, candies, and school supplies. “Write a clue and hide something.”
He laughed when I gave him an example. “This is gonna be fun!”
“I hope so,” I laughed. “Don’t go too far, though, okay?”
“Yep. Got it!” He ran to the middle of the backyard with his bag, dropping down on the grass with his legs crossed, tongue stuck out as he carefully wrote out his clues.
I smiled to myself as I hid the small treasures around the backyard, including several plastic, wooden, and inflatable dinosaurs. I wrote clues that would require him to think critically, count steps, and observe the world around him.
We exchanged clues and spent the next hour traipsing around the property to uncover treasures. At some point, I realized that it was too quiet for an excited little boy who radiated noise and laughter. “Mattie?” I called out, scanning the area in all directions. He wasn’t there.
I retraced the path of my clues, my heart banging around too fast, until I spotted him under the giant oak tree, curled up and sleeping peacefully.
I stood there for a long moment and watched his chest rise and fall, the afternoon light dappling his hair. Careful not to wake him, I crouched and brushed a leaf from his hair.
That was when I knew with startling clarity that I was already in too deep, and it had nothing to do with Enzo. Oh no, it was the smaller DeRossi who’d pulled me in and wrapped me around his finger.
Lifting him carefully, I let his small weight settle against me as I carried him back inside.
Enzo stood there at the top of the steps, his expression going from alert to soft in the blink of an eye.
He took in the sight of Mattie in my arms, and his expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite figure out, which served as a perfect and much-needed reminder that I didn’t know him anymore. He looked like my Enzo, but he wasn’t.
“He wore himself out,” I whispered, stepping around him without touching him.
“He does that,” Enzo replied with a smile.
The next minute unfolded in an alternate reality where Enzo and I moved instinctively, as if we’d done this dance hundreds of times before. He opened the door while I laid Mattie down on his bed and tucked his dinosaur-themed blanket around him.
I watched him.
Enzo watched him too.
It was a picture of familial bliss that was a total lie.
“Thank you,” Enzo broke the silence, his voice ragged and raw.
“Of course,” I said softly as our eyes met. For a split second, something passed between us, unspoken and intense. But before either of us could recognize it or put a name to it, I stepped back, breaking the spell. “I, uh, should go work on tomorrow’s lesson plan.”
Something that looked a hell of a lot like disappointment flashed in his green eyes, but it vanished so fast I wasn’t sure that’s what I’d seen at all. “Right. Good idea.”
I nodded and turned quickly, rushing from Mattie’s room while my heart thudded wildly against my ribs.
This is temporary, I reminded myself.
They don’t belong to me.
This was a temporary job. Thirty days—I hoped—and then I’d be back in my office where I belonged and where the world made sense.
Where heartbreak wasn’t staring me in the face.
The sizzle was there, but it was fleeting, not something to risk more pain for.