I choke on my breath of air.
Dead?
Dead?!
How the fuck am I supposed to fix this if the one man I need isn’t alive to begin with? I wipe my sweaty palms down my pants.
What the hell is Chloe supposed to do if her father isn’t even alive?
I settle on one question despite the flood of them filling my head. “What happened?”
Matteo places the picture frame facedown on the coffee table. “My brother had issues.”
“What kind of issues?”
“The kind that end with an early death.”
I can’t say I’m exactly surprised. Based on the one interaction I had with Chloe’s mom and the stories, it seems like she had a type.
“I’m sorry about your loss.”
His head drops. “Me too. The pain gets easier, but then something like this happens to bring it all back again.”
“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling who struggled and passed away. The thought of losing my sister alone makes me sick.” I love Maya with everything in me. If she battled the same problems as Chloe’s dad, a part of me would struggle with her.
“You have no idea the things I did to help him out. I’m not proud of half of them, but I didn’t have a choice. He was my brother.”
“I can tell you cared about him a lot.”
“It wasn’t enough in the end. I failed him. And now, he’s not here, and Chloe… God, what am I going to do?” He runs both hands through his dark hair.
“You need to tell her the truth.” I disguise the tremble in my voice. The idea of this makes me sick with nausea.
As much as I hate what happened to Chloe’s father, avoiding the topic won’t bring him back. Chloe deserves to know what happened to him before she invests more of her feelings into her relationship with Matteo.
“He’s still getting me into trouble, even after all this time.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to him?”
“Drugs, alcohol, legal issues. You name it, he struggled with it. He was a mess up until the day he died, but I loved him despite it all. The summer before he passed, he got into some harder stuff, and his body couldn’t keep up. He died of cardiac arrest in the middle of a rat-infested apartment in New York City. He wasn’t even found until two days after he passed. My mother was absolutely destroyed. And me—” He clears his throat as he brushes away a single tear away from his cheek.
Shit. What an awful way to go. “I’m sorry for your loss. Truly I am.”
“Losing a brother is hard. But losing a twin is like someone cut off my arm.”
I cringe.
He swears something in Italian. “Sorry, that was a bad choice of words. It’s just, when I lost my twin, it was like I lost a part of myself that I never got back. Even with all his problems, we were close. I mean, we were mirror copies of one another, and we loved it.” A small smile spreads across Matteo’s lips. “It got us in all kinds of situations growing up. But I was loyal to a fault, and I bailed him out way too many times in life. Maybe I was part of the problem, always saving him. It took me a decade to let go of my guilt about his death. I was consumed by the idea that maybe if I had gotten him help sooner, he could still be here today. Maybe he could’ve had this conversation with you after all. Maybe he could’ve met his daughter.” His eyes fall to his lap. One tear slips down his face before landing on his clenched hands.
“I can’t imagine how hard it was for you.”
“How am I supposed to tell Chloe that I’m not her father and that her real dad is dead?” His voice cracks.
“I’m not sure there is an easy way to tell her.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do it. It would destroy her.”
“What do you mean ‘you don’t think you can do it’? You need to tell her.” I don’t like the look on his face. I don’t like it one bit.
“How do you tell someone their real father is dead? How can you expect me to do that?”
“I don’t know how you should tell her, but you will do it. She deserves to hear it from you.”
“What if you told her instead of me?”
I sputter. “What?” This man is absolutely psychotic.
“Yes. You’re her boyfriend. She trusts you the most. It would be easiest coming from you than me—someone who is basically a stranger. You can soften the blow, and then I’ll share who my brother was with her once she’s ready.”
I can’t find the nerve to break her heart. Not when I worked the whole summer to gain it in the first place.
I shake my head from side to side aggressively. “No way. You’re not putting this on me. She deserves to hear it from the person who was closest to her father. And that’s not me. I can’t answer any of the questions she might have.” And the last thing I want to do is break her heart. I’d rather have Matteo be the one to do it.
I can’t find it in me to rip someone’s dream away from them. It’s happened to me, and that kind of pain can be devastating.
“Cazzo.” Matteo pinches the bridge of his nose.
I don’t need a translator to draw my own conclusions about that phrase. His hesitation and dislike about the plan isn’t my problem. To be honest, I don’t give a fuck how upset this situation makes him. Chloe needs to hear this news from someone, and he’s the best choice. He can help her mourn the loss of her father better than I can.
“I’m giving you a day to figure this shit out. I’ll take Chloe somewhere, and you’ll figure out the best way to break the news. Got it?”
“I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t know if a day is enough time to figure out what to do.”
“A day is all you’re going to get. She’s going to want to see you again, and you can’t pretend you’re someone you’re not.”
His eyes dart away. It sets me on edge, and I need to gain control of this situation.
“You think this is easy for me? It’s not. The last thing I want is for this situation to ruin her in a different way than ever before. You have no idea how excited she was to spend time with you, thinking you were her dad.” Every muscle in my body locks up at the idea of Chloe finding out about all of this.
Matteo’s eyes widen. “Does she even want to own a coffee shop?”
I shake my head from side to side.
“Wow.” His eyes drop. “She spent the whole summer doing things she wasn’t interested in to get to know me?”
“She’d do it all over again, just for the chance to spend time with you. She was desperate to be around you in whatever way she could get. And now…”
“Now I’m going to break her heart.”
There’s no use in denying Matteo’s claim. I love Chloe, but I can’t be the one to destroy her happiness. Not when she made it her mission to become mine. I’d rather help pick up the pieces of her broken heart once Matteo shatters her world into nothing but stolen wishes and missed chances.
I shut the bedroom door behind me without making a noise. Chloe is in the same spot I left her, looking peaceful as she holds on to the pillow. Something clenches in my chest at her vulnerability. A feeling of helplessness hits me as I consider everything I learned not even an hour ago.
Nothing in the world can fix what she’s about to learn. All I can do is make the process as painless for her as possible.
Making quick work of my shoes, clothes, and prosthetic, I settle back into the bed. I pull Chloe into my body. She throws a leg over my body and nestles into the crook of my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close to my chest. It’s as if my conversation with Matteo never happened. Honestly, I wish I could go back in time and erase my memory of his confession.
I stay like that for an hour. I don’t move an inch, afraid to wake her after the hellish night she had. And worse, I’m worried if I wake her up, the guilt will tear me apart. Guilt makes me stupid and reckless. She has a way of wanting me to be better, including telling her the truth no matter what. Even if it means hurting her.
I shake my head, nixing the idea. I’m doing this for her. Matteo needs to think of the best way to tell her, and I need to wait.
She startles awake, her body jolting against mine.
“Good morning.” I brush her hair out of her face.
“Morning.” A lazy smile graces her face.
“How are you feeling?
“Like I have the worst hangover, minus the alcohol.”
“Because of last night?”
She nods. “Crying will do that to a girl.”
“I’m sorry it happened that way.” And I’m sorry I have to lie to your face and pretend I don’t know the truth. I’m so fucking sorry.
She deserves much more than the shitty cards life has given her time and time again. Someone like her shouldn’t be plagued by sadness and despair year after year.
She traces the divots in my chest with her fingers. “Out of all the ways I thought things would go down, I didn’t expect him to run away, you know? I mean, I knew it was a possibility, but I stupidly hoped it would be way better than that.”
Shit. I didn’t expect to be tempted to break down and tell her after one minute. The nagging voice in my head forces me to stop and think of the consequences.
What if she freaks out and leaves? What if she realizes she doesn’t love me after all, and Matteo’s truth is the last thing holding her back from leaving for America? What if I’m the one to push her to that result?
I don’t want to be the bad guy. There are too many unknown variables, and I need Matteo to be the one to figure this out.
I swallow back the words begging to be let out. “What do you want to do about it?”
Her eyes shift away from me. “I don’t know. I thought about going over there and talking to him.”
“When do you want to go over?” Please, not today.
“I was thinking of giving him the day to think everything over. If I go over there too soon, I’m scared he will flip out again, and I don’t think I could handle that again.”
I nod. Thank God. Matteo better pull his shit together over the next twenty-four hours. I’m not pretending I don’t know for another day. This is torture.
“I’ve been thinking.” I tuck a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.
“The world must be ending after all.”
“That’s quite rude of you.” I roll on top of her body and tickle her.
“Stop! I’m sorry!” she wails as she thrashes against the sheets.
I take advantage of her distraction and plant a kiss on her lips.
She smiles up at me. “What were you thinking about?”
“How do you feel about doing something crazy today?”
“Crazy, you say? What do you have in mind?”
“Want to go somewhere special?”
“Somewhere special is exactly what the doctor ordered.” Her grin expands.
God, she’s gorgeous. The morning sun shines through the balcony, highlighting the icy shades of blue in her eyes. I wish I had a camera to photograph the moment.
I pull away, wanting to leave before I end up back in bed with her. “Get dressed in something that can get wet.”
She sits up. “Wet? How naughty.”
I shove her shoulder lightly, and she flops back on the bed. “Perv. I mean a swimsuit. We’re going out on the boat.”
“Yes! I’ve never been on a boat before!” She bolts out of bed and runs out of the room without a backward glance.
Experiencing life through Chloe’s eyes is a new kind of thrill. The simplest things make her happy, and I find it infectious. I want to be the one to steal all her firsts and be all her lasts.
Despite her excitement, something in my chest pinches. I check the clock on the nightstand.
Twenty-two hours and thirty minutes to go. I can do this.
I anchor the boat in the middle of the lake. Blue water glitters under the noon sun, resembling a sea of diamonds. The expansive valley surrounds us, setting up a beautiful backdrop of lush green forests. Our small town lines the edge of the shore. Buildings look like multicolored ants, scattered in front of the mountains.
The boat bobs. It’s one of my smaller boats, with cushions in the front for lounging and a back meant for jumping off into the warm water.
“What do you think?” I shut off the motors.
“It’s stunning. I could totally get used to this.” She leans forward on the bow.
“Me too.” I don’t bother staring out at the vista because the only view I care about is her.
She looks over her shoulder at me and blushes. The unspoken meaning behind my words hangs between us.
I wish she would say something back about wanting to stay here. About wanting to explore our relationship more and see where things go if we give it a chance. I’d do just about anything to have her confirm what I can tell is growing between us.
She stays quiet like always. I can tell she likes my words, but a smile is the only confirmation I get.
“Are we going to get in the water or what?” She stands and brushes her hands down her ripped shorts.
I let out a deep breath, releasing the growing agitation inside of me. Give her time. She wasn’t surrounded by love growing up like you were. “I’ll race you to the water.” I plaster a smile on my face.
“You’re on.” She fumbles with her clothing, making quick work of all the items.
Like an idiot, all I can do is stare at her once she reveals her damn bright pink bikini. It’s nothing but two scraps of fabric poorly concealing her chest. She turns around to tuck her shorts into her backpack, and I’m hit with the perfect view of her ass.
Whoever made thong bikinis deserves a thank-you card signed by yours truly—a man who will be undoubtedly stuck with a permanent boner today.
“Fuck.” My dick pulses to life in my swim trunks. The fabric tents in the front, and I do nothing to conceal it.
“Hello! You’re not even trying. And that’s saying something when you only need to take off your shirt.” She waves her hands at my fully-clothed chest.
I grip onto my T-shirt and rip it off my head. “Happy now?”
“Elated!” She flashes me a grin before it drops. Her eyes bounce between me and the back of the boat.
Ah. I’m blocking her only way off. “And here you were, feeling confident about winning.”
Her smile becomes something devious. “Oh, Santiago. When will you realize I’m not going to do what you expect of me?”
I don’t have a chance to question what she means. Chloe turns and dashes toward the front of the boat. Her bouncing ass is the last thing I see as she dives off the bow.
Damn. This girl is nothing I’d expect, but everything I want. I won’t stop until she’s mine. No disability or shitty news about her dad can stop me from claiming her for myself.
If I have a say in things, Chloe Carter will never want for anything again.
“Hey, loser! Do you plan on staring at the view all day or are you actually going to get in the water?” Chloe calls out from the back of the boat.
I walk to the back platform. My eyes drop to my prosthetic leg, and a rush of emotion hits me. But it’s not the usual negative thoughts. I’m not concerned with how Chloe views me because of my leg. I’m not worried about showing this part of myself and bracing for disgust.
I’m not worried. Period. End of story. But rather, I’m proud. The idea hits me out of nowhere, and I stumble. Proud?
I straighten my spine. Yes, proud. This is me, and this is the person Chloe has always accepted. Hell, this is the person I accept. None of it would’ve been possible to begin with without Chloe. Because of her and my push toward rejoining F1, I can finally embrace some confidence.
Chloe’s head pops up from under the surface. Beads of water drip down her face, coating her lashes and cheeks, dripping into her smile lines. “Do you always check yourself out this much? I know you’re sexy and all, but narcissism is only endearing to a certain extent.”
I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously funny.”
There goes that weird feeling in my chest again. The guilt from her situation sits heavy inside of me, eating away at my good mood.
I shake my head. Stop it.
I take a breath and jump into the water, splashing water all over Chloe. Her laugh is the last thing I hear before I sink beneath the surface.
She jumps on my back the moment I pop back up. I hold on to her and spin us around in circles, choosing to enjoy today. I’ll worry about tomorrow once it gets here because there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Some things are out of my control, and like Chloe says, it is what it is.
