30. Sandro
It doesn’t take long to find the man I’m looking for, despite this large mansion. Stepping into the study, I find him sitting in one of the armchairs. Even though he must have heard the door open, he doesn’t look my way.
My heart sinks at it, because the man I know is naturally curious, and this? This cannot keep going on. He cannot keep moving from one spot to another like a wraith, existing but not really there at the same time.
No, it’s time for my Sweetheart to step into the light with me, because I won’t give him up without a fight, even if it’s against himself.
Picking the loveseat across from him, I gesture for him to join me. For a moment, he hesitates, and I hate that. He’s fierce, my Amato, and yet this entire situation has fucked with the both of us.
We’re both shattered, missing pieces, stranded on an island and waiting…for what, I sometimes don’t even know. But Ignacio was right. We can’t just accept pieces of ourselves. It’s time to rebuild—together.
“Come sit with me, Sweetheart,” I urge again, and finally he stands, slowly making his way over to me. When he sits, it’s with an unsteady sigh, as if he’s too weary to continue the fight.
I let the silence build between us. It’s companionable, not taunt like it is with so many others in this mansion. There’s no expectations to be perfect, to be good, to earn a spot of acceptance between us. We can simply be who we are… For better or worse.
Eventually, I break the silence, drawing his attention toward me instead of letting his thoughts build inside. “What are you thinking about, My Love?”
“I…I don’t even know.” Cristian chuckles humorously as I take his hand, holding it steady in mine. “It’s like a kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions, and I don’t know how to begin to parse them out.”
“Start wherever you want. I’ll listen.”
“Carter…” One word, a wealth of pain. I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue.
“I keep thinking about what I did wrong. About how we ended. I see that he’s happy now—happier than he was with me.
But, I hate it. I know it’s selfish. Still, I had plans.
When we slipped rings onto each other’s fingers, I thought that was it. Forever. And…”
“Go ahead, Dolce Coure,” I urge, using the nonsensical Italian that usually brings a smile to his lips.
Instead, he gives a pained grunt, closing his eyes as a tear slips down his face. Finally, he shakily replies, “I’m jealous. Of you. Of what you’ve found here. You have Lio back. But where does that leave me?
“Carter doesn’t want me back. He’s moved on already. And fuck, I think he was right… We never left that room. I thought I had forgiven his betrayal, but…”
When he stops, unable to go on, I finish it for him, understanding as my heart bleeds for him. “But it allowed you to keep a wall up. To protect your heart.”
“I don’t think I have a heart,” Cristian scoffs. “Everything I touch has turned to ashes. I’ve burned it all down. My friendships, my marriage, and my relationship with my son. I only wanted to love him. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You have a heart. No matter what your uncle did, he could not extinguish it. If he had, neither of us would have survived that cement room. Our Families would have collected our bodies and that’s it. But because you had faith, I did as well.”
“And yet we still lost everything…” Cristian whispers, his eyes opening, even though his stare is vacant.
“No, My Love. You still have me. Sei il mio cuore, il mio amore, il mio tesoro.”
More tears slip down his face, but he doesn’t make a move to wipe them away. Instead, I turn and brush them off his cheeks with my thumbs, forcing him to look at me.
“And as for the rest? We have not lost it forever. Yes, some aspects are changed, and there’s no going back on that, but we have an opportunity that most don’t get.
And that’s to make the next chapter of our lives what we want them to be, not what we were raised to be, not the weapons we were molded into…
This is our chance at freedom. But to embrace that, we need to break the chains still holding us back… ”
He shakes his head. “I…I don’t think I can. I’m not made for this. I didn’t understand when Roman fell for more than one person. I’m not sure how to love you when your heart belongs to others. I…I don’t know whether I’m strong enough to survive this.”
“It’s change, Dolce Coure. Nothing is scarier to us. I know. But Ignacio pointed out to me earlier that the good things we’re seeing are because of us. We gave them the building blocks. The Council wasn’t formed in spite of us—not completely—but because we gave them the strength to continue on.
“Think about this. Had your uncle been in charge, Carter would have been killed. But despite how hard he tried, he could not make you in his image.
“Then there’s your son. Yes, you made mistakes.
I’d like to know one parent who hasn’t. You’re the one who pointed out to me that the fears I had of bringing a child into this world is what would make me a good father.
You have work to do, but when I look at Roman, I see his strength.
I see his heart. And he’s only able to have those things because you gave them to him.
You didn’t stifle him, you encouraged him. ”
“A lot of that was Carter,” Cristian retorts harshly, but I refuse to yield to him.
“And I say a lot was on you. Roman was already, what, eleven when Carter came into his life? He saw you go through the betrayal of Carter, and felt it himself. He could have closed down, you know what we would have been taught.”
Cristian snorts. “We would have been forced to kill the traitor ourselves. And it wouldn’t matter the reasoning.”
“Exactly. But because you showed forgiveness—even if you held back slightly to protect yourself—your son saw that love was so much more than fancy words. Now, he has the largest heart of them all, and he can use that to help lead. He tempers Lio. And Carter, who you saved, guides both Roman and Lio. We may no longer be the ones at the helm, My Heart, but Ignacio is right. This—all of this—would not exist without us.”
He drops his head forward, and I gather him in my arms, holding him as I rub his back, letting him feel the love I have for him. When he pulls back, there’s more determination in his eyes than I’ve seen before. Even when he tried to help me, he held part of himself back. That’s no longer an option.
“I shouldn’t be surprised it’s lessons from Chaos who is kicking our ass, should I?” he says ruefully.
“No. I’ve already begged an apology from Ignacio.
It’ll take time to build a relationship with him again, but…
it’s a start. And for you, I know this is hard because waiting has never been the strong suit for either of us, but…
we need to start somewhere. That means rebuilding those relationships, slowly.
Offering friendship to Carter as a co-parent.
Listening to your son. Understanding Ignacio’s love for Roman. But there’s one thing I need the most.”
Scowling, Cristian says it himself. “Therapy.”
I’m sure he wishes it was said with derision, but there’s too much hope cracking through that word. We both know it. It’s foolish to think of it any other way. Because if we do? Then we may as well lie down and die. For now, we fight. And that means taking on the shadows in our own minds.
“Will you go with me?” I keep my voice devoid of emotion, not wanting to trick him into anything, but I need him to reach out with me, to trust us.
“Now?” He pulls away, his eyes widening in response. The slight panic is almost amusing, and I have to quickly hide my reaction. Both of us have faced losing loved ones, almost dying ourselves, but give us a room and another person scribbling on a notepad, and we’d choose the physical every time.
With a half smile, which is the most I can give right now, I reply, “Yes, Sweetheart. You’ve said you want to go, but you’ve not followed through. If you want to live free, to love, and to pull our pieces together…we need to face this. But I won’t let you go alone.”
He stares off into the distance for so long that I wonder if I’ve made the wrong decision.
If I’ve pushed too hard. Or maybe he just doesn’t love me back, despite the words we’ve said before.
I know there’s a long road ahead of us, yet…
I can’t help but dream of a future with him in it.
How that looks, I’m not sure. But a journey has to start somewhere, and that means we need help to break the cycle, and transform ourselves, from the toxicity of the past into the new life waiting for us.
He suddenly nods decisively. “Yes, My Love. It’s time.”
Standing, I offer him my hand, and when he takes it, it’s like another piece of who I am falls into place.
We take it slow as we progress down to the medical wing.
When we stop in front of Javi’s door, I nudge him encouragingly.
I’ll stand by his side through all of it, but this time, he has to be the one to take the first step forward.
When he raises his hand to knock, it’s like I can suddenly breathe.
This isn’t going to be an easy journey, and the scars from our past won’t disappear, but perhaps together, and with the help of Javi’s empire, we can finally find peace—and love. Together.