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“She didn’t propose to me. She kinda just talked about it.”

“Whatever. You think she would do that just for a place to live? You already said she could stay there and be your maid. There’s something more here. I’m ashamed you’re too afraid to actually admit it.”

“I’m not afraid,” I said defensively.

“Then you need to clear the air with her. Be honest. Tell her you love her and listen to her say it back. Then move forward. Because what you’re doing is some pathetic form of what it should really be. I don’t understand why both of you would be acting this way.”

“What makes you so certain she feels the same way? Wouldn’t she just tell me?”

“Think about it, Carter. She’s a victim of rape and abuse. Maybe she thinks you would never love her that way, so she doesn’t want to say anything and risk losing you. What if she did tell you she loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Wouldn’t you kick her out?”

Assuming I didn’t love her, those feelings would create an awkward situation.

“It’s too risky for her. So she did this instead because she has something to offer you.”

“But if you know how I feel about her, why doesn’t she?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes we only see what we want to see. Now, go home and talk to her about this. When you approach your mother about this, that is the story you’re going to tell her. That you two love each other and want to be together. Don’t tell her the idiotic story you just told me. That’s not gonna make your mother happy or proud.”

“Alright…I’ll talk to Mia.”

He clapped my shoulder. “Be straight with her. The Barsettis aren’t afraid to tell people how they feel. Make me proud.”

Summer was almost over, so Luca was enjoying the pool as much as he could. He’d finally become proficient at swimming, but Mia always sat at the edge of the pool and kept a close eye on him.

I walked outside in my swim trunks, noting the way Mia looked at my bare chest when I emerged from the house. My towel was over my shoulder, so I tossed it over the back of the chair before I approached Mia.

“You’re gonna swim, Carter?” Luca asked as he kicked toward our side of the pool.

“Yep.” I moved to the spot beside Mia. “Wanted to enjoy the last of summer while I can.”

“Cool! Watch this!” Luca turned around and swam by himself to the opposite end of the pool.

I already knew he could that since I taught him everything he knew, but I still clapped when he gripped the opposite edge. “Great job, little man.”

Mia was in her black bikini beside me, her long hair pulled into a bun and shades sitting on her nose. It was the first time I’d seen her wear a piece that didn’t cover the scars on her back. She didn’t seem to care anymore.

Which was good.

I’m sure Luca would express his curiosity about the scars eventually, but she would come up with a reasonable explanation.

Those marks used to turn me on because I fantasized about hurting her. But now, it was difficult for me to acknowledge them, when the sight of them caused me so much pain. She deserved a better fate than what she’d had to experience. No one should ever have to suffer through that.

“Everything alright?” Mia’s light voice entered my ear as she stared at her son.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just got really quiet all of a sudden.”

I liked being honest with her. The transparency was refreshing. “Your scars.”

“They bother you?” she whispered.

“No. Just make me sad.”

She turned her face toward me, but her eyes were impossible to see through her dark shades. “I thought you liked them?”

I shrugged. “I guess my tastes have changed.” Our vanilla lifestyle seemed to be enough for me now. We made love quietly so Luca wouldn’t overhear us. There were no whips or chains, and there weren’t even screams. But that didn’t make me feel like I was missing something. It was the most satisfied I’d ever felt.

Luca had a few pool toys on the opposite side, water guns and inflatable tubes. He grabbed one of the guns and clung to the floatable raft as he drifted around and squirted the ants that crawled up the side of the concrete.

“How’s he liking school?” I asked, watching him concentrate on the insects.

“He really loves it,” she said with a sigh. “He’s already made friends, and he likes his teachers. Says he loves it here far more than the orphanage. I haven’t asked him too many questions about that because I don’t want to know the details.” She didn’t care about her own suffering over the past three years, just what her son had to go through without her.

Her selflessness made me adore her even more. “It doesn’t matter where he was before. He’s in a good place now. He’s happy.”


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