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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Valentina

I wake before the sun comes up and slip out of bed quietly. Enzo stirs but snuggles against my pillow and falls back asleep, allowing me to quietly sneak out the door.

The brisk morning air hits me like a punch, and by the time I reach the main house, I’m huffing and puffing.

Inside, the house is quiet and dark—everyone’s still cozied up in their beds, but I have a mission. I creep up the stairs and find Matilda’s borrowed bedroom. I slip inside and watch her peacefully sleeping for a few moments.

I can’t believe my baby is six years old today.

For a second, I’m shocked, realizing how long we’ve been here. Weren’t we only coming for a weekend? How long have we been here now?

Between the search for Alexandra and the whimsical magic of this house, I’ve completely lost track of time.

One more day, I decide. Enough time for Matilda to have her pony-riding, princess-marathon birthday celebration, and then we’re heading back to reality.

I push those thoughts out of my head for now and gently rub her arm. She stirs, and a sleepy little smile lights up her face when she sees me.

“Good morning,” I whisper, giving her a kiss. “Guess who’s six today?”

“Me,” she whispers back. “It’s me!”

“And what’s your birthday wish this year?”

She wrinkles her brow, thinking deeply.

Matilda’s never been one to ask for toys or presents—every year on her birthday, she thinks long and hard about her wish and chooses something that always surprises me. Last year, it was time alone with me, so we spent a day at the beach, just the two of us.

“I don’t wanna say it,” she finally whispers, her mood shifting.

I nod, knowing exactly what she’s thinking. She wants to meet her dad — a request she used to make often, but has given up on after being disappointed with my answer too many times.

“Is it about a person?” I ask, trying to weasel it out of her. She nods, turning her head away. “Is it about your daddy?”

“Yes.”

Her voice is so tiny and sad that my heart shatters into pieces.

I’ve hated hiding the truth from her, but at the time, I truly thought it was the best option. As far as I knew, Enzo was a scumbag who sold our love away, but now…

“You want to meet him?” I ask gently. She nods, one tiny little nod. “What if I told you that you can?”

She freezes, processing this new information. I watch intently as her face transforms into pure joy.

“Now?”

“Soon,” I promise.

“Today? Is he coming to my birthday?” she asks, bouncing up and down on the bed, full of giddy delight. I suck in a deep breath, trying account for every possible outcome.

What if Enzo doesn’t want her to know? What if she finds out it’s him and is disappointed? What if they bond and he leaves again? What if this thing between him and me is just a nostalgia-fueled hookup? What if… what if… what if?

“Yes,” I finally breathe, because I can’t say no to that face. I’ve never seen Matilda look so at peace before. “Yes, he’s coming.”

“Enzo,” I say quietly when he bursts into the kitchen, “I need to talk to you.”

I stack up Matilda’s pink heart-shaped pancakes and deliver them to her at the table with a flourish. Rafael cuts up tiny pink pieces for Rosie as Lux devours a stack of her own.

Enzo glances fondly at the pancakes but nods and follows me into the living room.

“Listen …”

Before I can launch into my speech, he grabs me and kisses me so deeply that we sink into the oversized sofa. When he finally breaks our kiss, I’m actually a little dizzy.

He leans back against the cushions, still bundled in Rafael’s old puffy winter coat, grinning adorably.

“You need to stop kissing me so I don’t lose any more brain cells,” I warn, placing my hand on his chest to steady myself and realize I’m straddling him.

How the hell did I get in this position?

“It’s okay.” He smiles lovingly. “I’ll share my last brain cell with you.”

“Sweet,” I agree. “But this is serious talk. Can you be serious now, or do we need to fill you up with pancakes first?”

“Serious first, pancakes after,” he answers immediately, gently lifting me off him and placing me on the cushion beside him.

“I’m going to tell Matilda the truth,” I manage to say, sucking in a breath and letting it out. “Today.”

He’s quiet for a second, his face bare of any emotion or reaction, and I start to panic.

Oh shit. He didn’t want this, but he’s too nice to say otherwise, and he’s probably thinking of a kind way to let me down…

“Stop overthinking.” He grins, grabbing my hand. “That one brain cell is bouncing around too loudly. I can’t think.”

I turn my brain off and stare at him, willing myself not to think anything. Finally, he nods to himself and turns to face me.

“I want her to know the truth,” he says slowly. “But I want to make sure you’re fully ready for what this will mean.”

“I’m going to let you decide how involved you want to be,” I rush to explain myself. “I’m not saying you have to come to father-daughter dances and carve pumpkins or anything.”

“Lenny,” he smiles, kissing me so softly it takes my breath away, “I would love to come to father-daughter dances and carve pumpkins. In fact, I’d love to put a ring on that finger, move us to the country, and give Matilda a little baby brother or sister, but…”

But. But! I think I’m about to have a stroke. There’s a “but”…?

“But your father’s threat six years ago,” he reminds me. “If we’re going to do this, I want to make sure it’s safe for us to be open about it. I’m not going to live my life sneaking around your family.”

“I’ll talk to him.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Seeing how much Uncle Alfonso has taken to Enzo, I’m fairly sure I can convince the rest of my family to accept him. My father will be the most difficult part of the equation, but I’m up for the challenge. “Any other objections?”

“Nope.” He laughs, tackling me onto my back and kissing my neck. “Time to make me a daddy.”

“No boys in the house, Mama?” a tiny voice declares behind me. We shoot up from the couch, red-faced and ashamed as Matilda smirks at us from the doorway. Really, this child is six going on sixteen.

“Honeybee, come here,” I call her, sinking down to the couch again. Enzo moves a respectable distance away and perches on the armchair, his foot tapping nervously against the wooden floor.

Matilda waltzes over, shooting Enzo a suspicious look, and climbs up beside me.

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asks plainly, and I nod. I see her doing the mental gymnastics, trying to figure out what all of this means.

“He is,” I start, my voice shaking. I clear my throat and catch Enzo’s eyes. He gives me a reassuring nod, and I continue. “But he’s more than that. Actually, I’ve known Enzo for a long, long time. We were in love, but something bad happened and we couldn’t be together for many years.”

She glances wildly at Enzo, starting to put the pieces together. Her mouth opens into a tiny O, and I hold my breath, waiting for the question.

“And now?” she asks. “Can you be together now?”

“Yes,” he answers for me. “What do you think about that, Jimmy Jam?”

Jimmy Jam? I didn’t realize they were at a nickname level of friendship. I grin at him and mouth a silent thank-you for taking over.

Matilda’s forehead creases as she thinks deeply about the question. She eyes me, then him, then me again, and she leans into me.

“Mama, is he my daddy?” she whispers in my ear, side-eyeing him. A surprised laugh slips out, and I cover my mouth with my hand, forcing it back in.

“Yes,” I finally manage to croak out. She peeks around me, appraising Enzo as if seeing him for the first time.

Matilda’s such a funny kid that I have no idea what’s about to happen, but I let her take the lead here.

“This guy?” She points at him subtly, wrinkling her brow again, and I burst out laughing this time. Enzo stares at us in bewilderment.

“What’s happening?” he mock-whispers. “Am I being judged? Should I be doing something more impressive?”

Matilda hops off the couch and slowly walks over to him, pretending to inspect him from every angle. She’s really making him sweat, and I can’t believe how proud I am of her. What a tough little lady.

“Hi, Dad,” she finally says, extending her hand. Enzo accepts it and shakes it.

“I think I just made a business deal,” he moans, twisting his face into comedic horror. “And I don’t even know what it was.”

Hours later, as Matilda’s being led around the snowy field on a horse, I watch her and reflect on the entire day. After we told her the story of how we met and fell in love, she questioned Enzo like a little interrogator, but he took it well.

I laugh to myself as I remember their voices floating in from the living room while Lux and I were baking.

“Favorite food?”

“Sushi.”

“Ew, that’s gross. Choose again.”

“Okay, princess cupcakes.”

“Wow, you really are my daddy. Favorite color?”

“Gotta be pink.”

“Me too!”

“High-five, girl!”

I glance back at Enzo, relaxed and happy by the fire, chatting with Rafael. Lux is telling Alfonso some insane story while bouncing Rosie on her knee.

I crack a smile at Alfonso’s horrified face, knowing that Lux is probably going into way too much detail for him.

The horse trainer leads Matilda back over to me, and I push away from the wooden fence, walking to meet them.

“Again, Mama!” she screams with delight. “Can I go again?”

“I think it’s time for princess movies,” I cajole her, apologizing silently to the poor trainer who’s been walking in circles for the last hour. “What do you think?”

The girls only make it through half a princess movie before they’re both snoring, snuggled against each other on the couch. Lux and Alfonso gather them up gently and take them upstairs to their bedrooms while we crack open the whiskey.

Rafael wanders in from the kitchen holding two wine bottles with swirly straws and shakes his head.

“I’m simply the delivery boy,” he apologizes, handing me a bottle. “Send any complaints to the general.”

I laugh and gratefully accept the bottle. We spend another cozy evening gathered around the fireplace, trading stories and playing cards.

By the time everyone starts yawning and suggesting sleep, I’m so deeply happy that I’m pretty sure I’m vibrating.

I have Enzo back. Matilda has a father. We have new friends. Life is good.

“I’ll check on Matilda before I go to sleep,” Alfonso says with a yawn, pulling himself out of the armchair.

“Oh no.” I jump up, dragging Enzo with me. “Let us do it!”

We tiptoe upstairs so we don’t disturb the kids and sneak down the hall to her doorway. Enzo presses a soft, drunk kiss against my temple, and I smile up at him.

Together, we push open the door and slip inside.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Enzo manages before I do, and when I feel him tense beneath my touch, I know something’s wrong.

“Lenny?” he whispers, his voice strained. “Get the lights.”

I hurry to the door and flip on the lights. We stare at Matilda’s empty bed, blanket thrown back, her pillow on the floor.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom?” I suggest hopefully, already rushing out to the hallway. Enzo’s hot on my heels, heading to Alfonso’s room and banging on the door.

When I find the bathroom empty, I spin around, almost knocking into Rafael.

“What’s going on?”

“Matilda’s not in her room,” I manage to breathe out.

My throat is closing up. Terror is sinking its sharp, nasty claws into me. My brain is spinning like it’s inside a washing machine. Nothing makes sense.

Alfonso and Enzo stumble down the stairs, tugging on their boots and running out the door. I hear them screaming Matilda’s name outside.

Lux bolts up the stairs, briefly touching my shoulder with fear in her eyes, and runs to Rosie’s room. She emerges a second later, clutching her baby and shaking her head.

“She’s not in there either,” she whispers.

I sink to the floor, ugly sobbing and hugging myself. I don’t need any messages, texts, or clues this time.

I know who has my child.