Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
VANESSA
I smell bacon. My favorite.
Wait. Why do I smell bacon?
I pry open my eyes as bright sunlight spills across my face, forcing me to squint. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. Nearly eight.
Shit. The twins are probably losing it right now.
I throw the covers back and hurry down the hall toward their bedroom. I peek inside and stop short. They aren’t there. A deep laugh drifts up from downstairs.
I head down the stairs and pause at the edge of the living room. Mateo is sitting on the couch, the TV on low, a baby cradled against his chest. One of our babies. And still, the sight of it makes my heart squeeze. Since he came home, he’s been the doting father I always knew he’d be.
I take a moment to really look at him, noticing the changes in his body, the quiet strength in the way he holds her. He senses me there.
He turns his head and flashes a wide smile. “Good morning,” he says.
“Good morning. Busy?”
“You know, just getting more of the details from the last year from these two,” he says, glancing between Julian and Victoria.
“Oh? And what have they been telling you?”
“Just that their mother’s been doing a lot on her own, and they want her to take a break. If she wants to, of course.”
“Wow. They told you all that?”
“Yeah. They also said you haven’t had breakfast made for you in a while, so I thought I’d do that for you.”
I walk over and press a grateful kiss to his lips. “You could have woken me up to help.”
“Nah. You were out,” he says easily. “And I think we did pretty good on our own this morning.” He looks down at the babies beside him on the couch. “I also made some bacon and eggs. They are staying warm on the stove.”
If it were possible to fall in love with someone all over again, I’d be doing it right now. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No. I was waiting for you.” He smiles again at me.
He stands, lifting Victoria with him. I lean over the couch and scoop Julian into my arms, then follow Mateo into the kitchen. He grabs two plates loaded with bacon, eggs, and English muffins, setting one on the counter before placing the other beside it.
I sit down in front of the plates, and he takes the seat beside me. With a baby in each of our arms, we eat quietly for a moment.
“How did you do this by yourself every day for the last four months?”
“Juliet, Gino, and the guys have been helping me with everything.”
“Really? Everyone?” he asks, surprised.
“Yeah. Why?”
“No reason. I just didn’t know if everyone was going to help.”
“I was sitting around the house sulking, and Alonso was the person who could get through to me. He listened to me complain, cry, and get angry about you being gone.”
I take a breath before continuing. “There were days when all I did was go to Gino’s and sit at his dining room table while they tried to find you. He helped me refocus. On the kids. On making sure I was healthy.”
“Who knew Alonso gave a shit about my kids.”
I snicker at the comment. “Well, yeah. He’s their uncle. All the guys are.”
He exhales. “I feel so out of touch with everything that’s happened.”
“You shouldn’t,” I tell him. “Everyone’s helped, and they’ll keep helping even though you’re back.”
“Then why aren’t they here right now?”
“Probably because they want to give us time and space. You just got home after a year.”
“Alright. So what do you normally do?” he asks.
“Most days I go over to Gino’s to listen to them try to find you. But since you’re here, we don’t need to do that.” I smile at him. “Juliet will probably come over at some point today, and Alonso will stick around for a bit.”
I can feel him tense at the mention of another man.
“Don’t worry,” I add. “Alonso didn’t stay the night, and I’m not his type.”
He looks at me. “What do you mean, not his type?”
“I’m just not,” I say firmly. “And please don’t ask me to expand on that.” I don’t want to share something that private, even with my husband.
“Okay.” He pauses. “Do you want to go over to Gino’s soon? I should probably stop by at some point, considering I ran out of his house yesterday.”
We finish breakfast and clean up the dishes. Upstairs, we put the twins down for a nap.
“I am going to shower, and then we can head over to Gino’s?”
“Works for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I step into the bathroom and turn the shower on, setting it as hot as I can stand.
The stress of the last year has mostly faded, but the fear of what comes next still lingers.
Watching Mateo over the last day, I see the man I fell in love with, but I also see the pain he’s been carrying, both physical and mental.
The small scars scattered across his body tell a story I don’t need explained.
The torture alone must have been unbearable at times.
I sink down onto the shower floor and let the water pour over me as everything hits at once. I’m happy he’s home. I’m angry it took so long to get him back. I’m heartbroken over what he had to endure.
The man I married was loving, kind, sweet, and protective. He is still all of those things, but now they’re buried beneath the pain he hasn’t fully processed yet. He’s been home a day, and I know nothing will be fixed overnight. The wounds won’t heal that easily.
I saw it in his eyes when I told him about his friends, his brothers, stepping in and helping with everything while he was gone. The way he looked at me told me how much time he wants to make up for, how deeply it weighs on him that he couldn’t be here.
I don’t know how long I have been in the shower when I hear a soft tap against the glass. I look up to find Mateo standing there, looking down at me with a gentle smile. I smile back at him and push myself to my feet.
“I’m almost done, I promise. Give me five minutes,” I say.
“Take your time,” he replies.
I finish my shower quickly and shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around myself, I step in front of the mirror and swipe on tinted moisturizer and mascara. I don’t feel the need to wear much makeup anymore. I brush out my hair and let it air-dry, not wanting the blow dryer to wake the babies.
I leave the bathroom and head toward the closet. Mateo is already getting dressed, black slacks on, pulling a white button-down from a hanger. Watching him, it’s clear he hasn’t missed a beat. He’s barely been home a day, and he’s already slipping back into professional mode.
I slide my hands around his waist and kiss his back, letting the towel fall away, my hair still dripping wet.
“Why are you getting dressed in a suit?” I ask.
“It makes me feel back to my old self,” he says. “I wore this every day before last year, and I want to get back to what I was doing.”
I smile against his skin. “I don’t think Gino would mind if you didn’t wear a suit.”
“I know it seems weird, but this helps me forget the bullshit I had to deal with last year.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. He’s right. If this makes him feel comfortable, I shouldn’t stop him.
I let go of him and move to my side of the closet. After a moment, I choose a blue wraparound sundress, something easy to breastfeed in once the twins wake up. I put on my usual jewelry, skipping the ring-holder necklace. I don’t feel the need to wear it anymore.
When I turn back around, Mateo is fully dressed, suit and all, looking as good as ever. I can’t look away. I’m completely transfixed by the sight of him standing there.
Mateo breaks me out of my trance. “I’m going to go to my office for a bit.”
His gaze drags slowly over my body, deliberate, knowing, and I feel it everywhere. A shiver runs through me.
I nod, and he leans in to press a kiss to my temple. “You look sexy as fuck in that dress,” he murmurs, meeting my eyes. “I might need to take it off you later.”
He turns and heads downstairs.
Almost on cue, one of the babies starts to cry. I leave the bedroom and step into the nursery. It’s about time for them to wake from their nap anyway. I lift Victoria and Julian and settle into the rocking chair, loosening the top of my dress so they can eat.
After ten minutes, they’re both finished. I carry them to the changing table, swapping out diapers and pulling them into clean outfits.
Right on cue, Mateo appears in the doorway, a soft smile on his face.
“Gino just called,” he says. “He asked if we could both come over when we are ready.”
“Okay. We can go in a few minutes,” I reply. “They just ate, so they shouldn’t be too fussy right now.”
Mateo lifts Victoria, and I pick up Julian.
Together, we head downstairs. We move in near-perfect harmony, getting both kids settled into the stroller and double-checking that we have everything we need.
We barely speak, but I notice how closely he follows their routine, how much he paid attention to everything I told him yesterday.
Just before we head out, Mateo pauses. “Hold on. I need to grab something.”
He runs upstairs and is back less than two minutes later. He steps behind me and slips the ring-holder necklace over my head.
“I’ll get you something different later,” he says quietly. “But I want you to wear that right now.”
I nod and look down at it for a moment. This necklace has been my lifeline for the past year, the thing that kept me holding on to hope. It feels like Mateo sees that, or at least acknowledges it. I touch it absently, noticing how much lighter it feels now that he’s wearing his wedding ring again.
The question burns in my chest, and before I can stop myself, I ask, “Why did you leave your cell phone and wedding ring in the hotel room that day?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Like you said, you had a bad feeling. I did too. If something happened to me, I couldn’t risk it happening to you.
I knew that if you or Gino didn’t hear from me, someone would start looking.
The Russos would’ve destroyed my phone. Leaving it behind was the best solution I could come up with at the time. ”
“I guess it worked in your favor,” I say softly. “Even if it still took a year to find you.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But it gave you this.” He lifts his left hand. “Something to keep safe until I got home.”
“I hope I did a good job of taking care of it.”
He looks down at the twins, his voice steady. “Believe me, you did more than I ever thought I’d need.”
In that moment, I know that no matter what comes next, everything is going to be okay.