“I’m so sorry, Chloe. I hate to hear how awful you were treated. No child should ever grow up in a situation like that.” His voice cracks.
“It’s okay.” I look away, unable to handle the weight of his sincere gaze. “I didn’t have to live like that for too long. After an accident, I was reassigned to an amazing social worker who helped me get out of my house and into a good foster home. The foster care system took good care of me, and I met my best friend, Brooke, that way. I consider myself lucky in some ways.”
“How can you make light of such traumatic experiences?”
“Because in the end, I’m here now. Yeah, the journey to get here wasn’t the easiest one, but I have you and that’s what matters. It’s exactly what I wished for. The past is the past, but my future is brighter than ever.” I beam.
Matteo’s eyes drop to his lap again.
Did I come on too strong?
Matteo fists his palms in unison. Tension ripples up his arms at the gesture.
Yeah, definitely came on too strong.
Matteo lifts his head. His eyes shine, and wetness clings to his lashes. He clears his throat. “I know I can’t take away the pain you went through, but will you let me try?”
My chest aches in the best kind of way. His acceptance is everything I wanted and wished for. I nod my head, happy to finally feel like I’ve found a home after so many years.
Santiago pounces on me the moment I unlock the front door.
I scream and jump back. My arms fly out to my sides as I lose my footing.
“Sorry!” He grabs onto my arm to prevent me from falling.
“What are you doing, creeping at the door like a freaking murderer?”
His wild eyes scan my face. “It’s late.”
“I didn’t know I had a curfew, Dad.”
“Why were you gone for so long?” He frowns.
“Because Matteo and I had a lot to talk about.”
“And what did you two talk about?” Exasperation leaks into his voice.
“You’re acting strange right now and it’s weirding me out.”
“Sorry, I’ve been dying to know how he reacted after everything.” His voice seems hesitant as he lingers on the last word.
“Well, he seemed a lot more relaxed today. He asked me a lot of questions about myself.”
“Oh.”
Somehow one word carries the weight of Santiago’s disappointment. Why is he acting like this? I thought he would be ecstatic about Matteo’s sudden enthusiasm.
“Yeah…”
“I want to hear more about it.” Santiago steers us toward the living room.
We settle into the couch, and I throw my legs over his lap. Despite his odd behavior, it’s comforting knowing we have our little rituals. Especially this one where he gives me the best foot massage without me having to ask. If I was searching for a husband, he would be first on my list.
Seriously, what guy ever offers a foot massage?
The kind I want to date. I push the thought away for later tonight when I can stew in them properly. “Are you going to stop being weird now? I’ll only share what happened if you stop acting like I’m about to bolt from the room any second or break down and cry. It went way better than last time. I swear.”
He nods and looks down at my feet on his lap. “Yeah. Sorry about my reaction. I was just worried about you.”