Page 61 of Claimed At First Sight

I sit down at the vanity to finish getting ready when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I call, picking up my hairbrush.

Mamma steps inside, already dressed for the evening in a dark emerald gown that drapes elegantly around her figure. Her hair is in a fancy updo, and for a moment I just stare at her.

She looks younger, lighter somehow.

“You’re glowing,” I tell her, as she steps closer and reaches for the brush in my hand. “Truly beautiful.”

She begins running it through my hair, untangling a few knots. “Thank you,” she says, looking relaxed and content.

“Are we going to discuss the fact that you and Aldo behave like characters from a romance novel?”

Mamma blinks at me. “We do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

I spin on the vanity bench to face her properly.

“You were holding hands as soon as we stepped off the plane, and don’t think I missed him kissing you hello, even though you tried to be discreet and waited until Ari, Sienna, and I were in the car.”

Then I pointedly glance at her jewelry.

“And that necklace is undoubtedly a new gift from Aldo.” I grin up at her. “Have I forgotten anything?”

A faint flush rises in Mamma’s cheeks. “Mia—”

“No, I need answers,” I insist. “You only spent a few days together in Sicily. Then we arrive in Chicago and he’s looking at you like you personally invented happiness.”

Mamma tries hard not to smile and fails.

“You like him,” I say, watching her closely.

“I never claimed otherwise.”

“No, but I assumed there would be more hesitation and less…” I wave toward her. “Whatever this is.”

She sits down beside me. “It surprised me too.”

I scoot over on the bench to make more room for her.

“I spent many years measuring every word before I spoke,” she says, her eyes suddenly far away. I lean my head on her shoulder.

We all learned to live carefully around Father, but for Mamma it must have been far worse.

“With Aldo…” Her gaze meets mine in the mirror. “I don’t have to.”

She gently turns me away from her and continues brushing my hair.

“He’s calm. Thoughtful. And he makes me laugh. Being with him is… easy.”

The word catches my attention more than anything else she’s said so far.

Easy.

I don’t think love has ever looked easy in our family.

Mamma was always tense around Father. Mari loved Mateo for years before he even noticed her, and Isa… well, she loved Luca only to lose him.