Chapter 24 #3
“I don’t know why, but I thought sending you out to get food would deter you.
” He gives me a soft smile, but it’s kind of sad.
“But it didn’t, and you showed up with a ridiculous amount of it.
Sitting in that garden talking, and the way you handled my ex, I knew you were different.
Not because you wanted to have sex. It seemed more than that. ”
“It was more. Sure, it started off that way. I never lied to you about that, but for me, it grew into something more. And I didn’t want to stop it.”
His hands loosen from fists into a loosely clasped position in front of him. Still hunched over, leaning on his knees to stay as close as he can to me without touching.
“With your stupid fancy car, the rides to and from work. I felt like someone. Felt special.”
“You are special, Sofia. So special.”
He sits up, drags the chair even closer so our knees are touching. Staring at me with such an open and sincere expression that it’s hard to look at him without losing myself.
“Then the break-in and locksmith, handling everything for me. Your brother kidnapped my dog and loved him like his own. It felt like I wasn’t battling the world alone anymore.
For the first time, I had help, even after being married.
I was being taken care of. Someone wanted to do for me, instead of me always doing it for them.
I had no idea that it was even possible.
That there were guys out there like that. ”
“I’ll always do it for you, baby. Hell, I do for my brother all the damn time, and he’s not even what I want. Can you imagine how much I’ll help the person I love?”
Love.
He says it with so much feeling, my heart aches. Emilio was right from the moment he said it. And in all the messages and voicemails, all the glances and longing gazes, it’s been there longer than I want to acknowledge.
My throat goes tight, choosing not to talk about that part yet.
“I wanted to fall into it. I wanted to rest. Really rest. Just for a second. But the part of me that remembers him?” I tap my chest for no reason at all.
“That part freaked out. Because taking help means giving someone power. Letting you protect me means you can hurt me. Letting you fix my life means you can walk away and take the tools with you. And I didn’t know how to be in your house, in your bed, with your brother and your easy, carefree Saturday afternoon, making food by the pool, without feeling like at any second someone will flip the table and take advantage of me again. ”
He flinches. “I would never—”
“I know that.” I tap my temple. “Here. Nurse brain. Logic brain. You have done nothing but show up and care and be there.”
I tap over my sternum. “But in here? Different story. The girl in here still thinks love is a debt to be paid. You have to give something to get something. I’m learning now that that is not the case, but it’s all I’ve ever known.”
Silence settles between us despite all the surrounding noise. It’s a clearing of the air, at least on my part. On his, I still don’t know. And maybe I don’t need to know today, nor right now, in the middle of the emergency, with his brother off getting imaging.
“And then my ex shows up outside my building. Hiding in the shadows. Big talk about how I still belong to him. How he has people. How you’re not welcome on his block. He stole my rent money right out of my bag like it’s his. He says one word, and ‘they’ can come for you. For Em.”
Rage flashes through his eyes, hot and fast.
“He threatened you? Threatened us?”
“Yes, but hold on.” I stare at him so he sees I’m not sugarcoating it. “I believe him. Not because he’s strong, but because he’s reckless. Men like him don’t care who gets hurt as long as they get what they want.”
His hands roll back into fists. If our knees weren’t smashed together and his brother wasn’t hurt, I’m sure he’d be out there looking for him now.
“So, I did what I always do. I decided the best way to protect you was to cut you off. Not to pursue this anymore. To let you both go so my ex can’t harm you.
Either of you. If that’s what it means to make sure you’re safe, then I’ll say goodbye, and everything will calm down.
Go back to normal. He’ll get bored. You’ll move on. Everyone survives.”
I let out a long breath. Relieved and exhausted, whereas he looks ready to go to war. Ready to charge out of her and handle business. Something I can’t have him do.
“Papito?”
I reach for his hands. He lets me hold them in mine. His tan eyes move from mine to where we are joined. He tightens his grip and returns my gaze.
“When did he do this? Show up and scare you. Steal from you?”
His voice comes out low, almost a controlled rasp. His hands shake with anger, trying to hold it back from me. I’m not scared of him. I understand his fury. I had it that night before he scared me with his threats.
“It doesn’t matter because I handled it for now. But it made me realize that my independence looks a lot like isolation. And I’m tired, Papito. I’m so tired of being alone. Of pretending I don’t need anyone. Of pushing away the only two people who have never once made me feel small.”
Something breaks in his face. A little crack in the hard shell of anger reserved for my ex.
“What are you saying, Sofia?” His voice is careful. As if he breathes wrong, I’ll disappear.
“I’m saying I don’t want space.”
I lift my chin, owning my choices. Owning that I want both brothers. I want to be between them both, even if that still makes me blush.
“Not from you. Not from Em. I want us. Whatever that looks like. Messy, loud, complicated. I want to try again. For real this time. No half in, half out. No disappearing when it gets too much or too hard. No playing martyr in my little apartment while you two fall apart.”
His eyes close for a second, like the words hit him physically. When he opens them, they’re shiny with tears. With tons of emotion that so readily flows out of him. For being so big and built, he’s so calm, kind, and sweet with me.
“You’re sure? Because if I let myself want you like that,” he sighs so loud his chest literally deflates. “I’m not going to do it quietly. You know that.”
I huff a small laugh. “You’ve seen me in the ICU, Papito. I don’t know how to love quietly either.”
His hand comes up, slow, like he’s giving me time to pull away. I don’t. He laces our fingers together, big palm warm over mine.
“You’ll let me protect you? Not like you’re helpless. Just let me stand in front when it makes sense. Beside you the rest of the time.”
“I’ll let you stand with me. Not in front of me. Not behind me. With. And we handle my ex legally. Police. Restraining order. Whatever it takes. No vigilante bullshit.”
His mouth twists, looking good enough to eat. “I was hoping for a little vigilante bullshit.”
“No,” I say firmly, withdrawing a hand to place on his chest, over his heart. “That’s how you end up back in my ICU bed. And I have had enough of you, Dimas boys, in my hospital for one lifetime.”
A reluctant chuckle escapes him. “Okay. Legal. We do it right. We have a great family lawyer that I can call to get started—”
“Papito, you don’t fix my whole life for me. I will still do things, but you can help. I still send money home. I still work my shifts. But maybe I don’t do it from a place of panic and isolation anymore. Maybe I do it from your couch. From your bed. From a place where Paco is safe too.”
He squeezes my hand like he’s anchoring himself to the words.
“Okay, okay, I get it. No fixing everything, just split the bullshit. Share the good stuff. Together.”
Together.
The word no longer feels like a threat. It feels like relief, support, and love. I lean forward, cup his face with both hands, and give him the softest kiss, which has him growling.
“You can do better than that,” he mutters against my lips.
His hands move to my hips to scoot me off my stool and onto his lap. Before I can fully straddle him, a familiar shout hits my ears.
“SOF, MY ANGEL? WHERE ARE YOU?
We both jump to our feet when the curtain flies open. Emilio rolls back in, grinning like he won the lottery. Somehow, they got an IV in his arm while he was down there. Good, he’s going to need it for fluids and meds overnight.
“I told you they didn’t leave. They would never!” he crows as if the staff would actually place bets on whether the family stayed or left. “My favorite duo. Did you kiss? Tell me you kissed. The vibes in here feel like kissing.”
“Cállate,” I scold, but my cheeks heat with embarrassment as the nurse casts me a curious look. “You almost died. Show some respect.”
“Almost only counts in horseshoes and orgasms. And I plan on having many of the second ones once I’m cleared for activity.”
Massimo groans. “I’m asking for sedation. Right now.”
The ER doctor slips in behind Em with the X-rays. Slide them up on an old light box. White ribs glowing against black.
“Good news, Mr. Dimas.” She traces her pen along the healing ribs. “No new fractures. Old injuries are stable. Significant bruising along this side, some deep abrasions, but you got lucky.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My knees go soft for a second. I grip the end of the bed.
Em flexes his free arm, then immediately winces.
“Told you. Blessed by Sofia’s hot nurse hands.”
The doctor shoots me a look. Massimo looks at the floor. I glare at Emilio, who’s oblivious to all the innuendos flying around the room.
She clears her throat and continues, “We’re going to keep you overnight for observation because of the impact and your history, but I don’t see anything surgical.”
“I don’t want to stay. Mas, tell her no.”
His brother shakes his head. Em’s chin swivels to me so fast, his neck pops.
“Sofia, my angel. No, I can’t stay here. They will hurt me. If you’re not here, they will jab needles in my eyes. Do experiments on me. Take my boy’s juice and sell it on the black market. They’ll—”
“Nene, hush. You’ll stay and behave. Good boy.”
I pat his arm to comfort him. He melts under my touch, and the doctor’s eyes bounce all over the room, trying to figure this out. Well, good luck to her because we’re all still trying to do the same.
“This family sucks,” he grumbles, slamming his head against the pillows in protest.
“We’ll call for a room and get him moved within the next hour. Until then, we’ll give him something to rest.”
“Drugs! Yes!! Now we’re talking!” He tosses my hand off his arm to raise it in the air. Chanting like he’s at a sports event. “Drugs. Drugs. Drugs.”
Massimo steps forward and rattles the bed, which startles everyone. “Shut up, Em. You’re only making things worse.”
A silence falls over the room. Long enough to allow the doctor to leave and the nurse to start fussing with his meds. Once it’s just us, the three of us, Emilio grabs my hand, links the fingers in between his.
“So, did it work or what?”
“Did what work?” I ask, even though I know. Even though I spilled my guts to Mas, he kissed me. Said we’re together in all this.
“My genius plan. Finding you, crashing Mas’s bike, making you both panic, run to my side, remember you love each other and me, we all live happily ever after.”
Massimo stares at me, and I stare at his brother. “You’re never allowed to plan anything again.
He clutches his chest. “Harsh. But fair.”
The room goes quiet again. Like all of us can feel how close he came this time. How bad things could have gone. Massimo crosses over to me, wraps a shoulder around my waist, and tucks me into his body.
“I want this. Both of you. All of us. Paco too.”
I look between them, wrap my arm around Massimo, and squeeze Emilio’s hand. Twin brothers who want me and would never ask me to choose between them. Each giving themselves in the only way they know how. Both chaos and channeled in different ways. My Chaos Kings.
“Sexy nights, lazy mornings, and loud afternoons. Together. With only my guys.”
Emilio’s lower lip trembles in this ridiculous, dramatic way. “She said together, Mas. That’s basically a vow. I feel married. Married with children.”
He uses the back of my hand to wipe his fake tears. Massimo shakes his head, but there’s that tiny smile again. The one that made my knees weak the first night he looked at me like I was something he wanted to keep.
“Together for sure.”
His knuckles graze my cheek, warm and soft. His fingers clasp my chin, turning it toward him to kiss me gently. Reuniting what could have been lost if I weren’t willing to start again. To try again with this unusual pairing of men who like and love me for me.
“Mi familia.”