Chapter 37 – Mateo
Chapter Thirty-Seven
MATEO
I’ve never been this damn excited to clean. But today? Today, I’m scrubbing baseboards with more passion than I’ve ever put into a workout.
I don’t think I’ve ever vacuumed this much in my entire life. Maya’s been trailing behind me with a duster, her little pink socks sliding across the hardwood floors as she tries to reach the corners I missed.
“Did you fluff the pillows?” she asks, hands on her hips like a mini general.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, laughing as I lift one to prove it. “See? Maximum fluff.”
She nods approvingly. “Okay, that’s good. We want everything perfect for Mami.”
Analyse is coming home. My girl is coming home.
It’s been a full week since the hospital called with the update. After her surgery went well and they were sure there weren’t any complications, they kept her for monitoring and physical therapy just long enough to make sure she could manage stairs and short walks with assistance.
I swear I’ve been counting down the minutes since they cleared her for discharge.
Maya skips ahead of me into the kitchen. “Can we put her cookies on a plate?”
“We’ll do that last,” I say, checking the time. “That way they’re still warm when she gets here.”
Her eyes light up. “She loves warm cookies.”
“I know,” I say, tossing her a wink. “We’re not half bad at this, huh?”
She beams. It hits me again, like it always does now, how much she looks like Analyse when she smiles. Same warmth. Same light. Same quiet resilience.
I kneel down in front of her. “Hey, princesa. How you holding up?”
She shrugs, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “I’m excited. But also kind of scared. What if Mami’s still really hurt?”
“She’s healing,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear. “She’s gonna need some help, and we’re gonna give it to her. That’s what we do. We show up. We take care of each other.”
She nods, eyes wide and solemn. “Okay. I can do that.” Then she suddenly blurts, “Mateo…why wouldn’t my dad want me?”
The question knocks the air out of me. I pull in a steady breath and cup her cheek.
“Oh, Maya. It was never about you. You are the easiest person in the world to love. Sometimes people don’t know how to be what we need—and that’s on them, not you.
But you? You’ve got so many people who choose you, every single day. ”
She blinks up at me. “Like you?”
I smile, throat tight. “Especially me.”
She chews on her lip for a second then leans against me with a tiny sigh. “You feel like my dad,” she whispers. “I’d be okay if you were.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, my chest aching. “Me too, princesa. Me too.”
She smiles faintly against my chest, and I hold on for just a second longer before pulling back.
I stand and ruffle her hair. “Now come on. We’ve got candles to light and a couch to fluff for the hundredth time.”
We move through the rest of the house like we’re prepping for royalty. And if I’m being honest, we are.
I open the windows to let in some of the crisp winter air, fresh but not too cold. The living room smells like vanilla and fabuloso. Maya lines up the throw blankets and double-checks the remote is where Analyse likes it—right next to the couch cushion with the best view of the window.
Just as Maya finishes folding the last blanket into a perfect square, there’s a knock at the door.
She races to it before I can stop her, yanking it open. “Titi Mari! Tio Seb!”
Sure enough, Seb and Mari step inside with the bags of food and soft voices full of excitement. Right behind them are Anna, Andres, and Nathan, all crowding into the living room.
“Hey, pequena,” Seb says, scooping Maya into a hug. “We heard someone special’s coming home today.”
“She is!” Maya grins, arms flung around his neck. “We made cookies.”
Mari walks over to me and lowers her voice. “Everything okay? You good?”
I nod, wiping my hands on a towel. “Yeah. We’re ready. The place is spotless, blankets are folded, candles are lit, and Maya’s already taken command.”
“She gets that from Analyse,” Anna jokes, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Go. We’ve got her.”
I glance at all of them—my people, our people—settling in to keep Maya busy, keep her distracted, make this moment even softer for Analyse when she gets here. And suddenly I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. This town, this family, this life we’re building…it’s everything.
I press a kiss to Maya’s head. “Be good, princesa. I’ll be back soon—with Mami.”
“You better,” she says, arms crossed with a grin.
I laugh, grabbing the keys off the counter, my heart racing. I’ve waited a long time for this moment. And now, I’m going to bring my girl home.
The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever, even though I hit every green light on the way.
My hands grip the steering wheel tighter than they should, my heart thudding harder the closer I get.
I’ve been picturing this moment all week, walking out those hospital doors with her by my side.
No sirens. No smoke. No panic. Just us, headed home.
When I pull into the patient pick-up area, she’s already waiting outside in a wheelchair, bundled in a soft gray sweater, a blanket tucked over her lap.
A nurse stands beside her, holding a clipboard, but all I see is her.
Analyse. Her hair’s pulled back in a loose braid, her eyes a little tired but still full of fire.
She’s biting her bottom lip like she’s trying not to cry.
I throw the truck into park and practically leap out.
“Hey, chula,” I say softly as I jog up to her.
Her eyes meet mine, and damn, there it is, that look that knocks the wind right out of my chest.
“Hey,” she breathes. “You’re early.”
“I’m on time. Everyone else is late.” I crouch beside her and press a kiss to her knuckles. “You ready to go home?”
She nods, lips trembling slightly. “More than ready.”
The nurse helps me get her into the passenger seat, carefully lifting the leg with the brace.
I buckle her in and adjust the seat a little, trying to make sure she’s as comfortable as possible.
When I close her door and walk around to the driver’s side, I catch her watching me with this soft, awestruck smile, like she can’t believe I’m real.
I know the feeling.
The ride home is quiet. Not awkward. Just…
full. Her hand finds mine on the center console, and we sit there like that, fingers laced, silence humming between us.
Every few minutes, I glance over to check on her, but she always beats me to it, already looking at me with those big brown eyes that say everything without a single word.
When we turn down our street, she inhales sharply. “I missed this.”
“You’re almost there.”
The house is glowing when we pull up. Soft lights in the window, a warm flicker from inside. I swear it looks like something out of a damn movie. And when I open her door and help her out—slowly, carefully—I feel her body shake with a quiet sob.
“Hey, hey. Are you okay?”
She nods against my chest, her hand clinging to mine. “I just…I didn’t think I’d get to come back here. Not like this.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “You’re here. You made it back. And we’ve got you.”
I guide her up the front steps slowly, my arm around her waist, her crutch on the other side. I open the door and call out, “Careful, a queen is incoming!”
There’s a collective cheer from the living room.
Maya’s the first to come flying down the hall, socks nearly taking her out on the hardwood. “Mami!”
She skids to a stop just in time, eyes wide as she takes in the sight of Analyse.
“Gentle, baby,” I remind her.
But Analyse opens her arms. “Come hare, mamita.”
Maya buries herself in her mom’s side, sniffling and hugging her tight. Everyone else keeps their distance, watching, smiling.
“I told you we’d make it,” I whisper into Analyse’s ear as I guide her the rest of the way in.
She looks around, teary eyed, at the folded blankets, the candles, the cookie set on a plate with a little handwritten note from Maya that says, Welcome home, Mami.
“Did you do all this?” she asks. She smiles through her tears. “God, I love you.”
“I love you more.” I grin. “Now come on. Let’s get you to the couch.”
As I settle her in, Maya curls up beside her and the rest of the crew quietly heads into the kitchen to give us space. For the first time in a long time, everything feels calm. No alarms. No chaos.
Just us. Home. Together.