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“Why then?”
“Killing my grandfather allowed me to take back the parts of myself he stole from me.”
“I had no idea.”
“When he died, a part of me died with him,” Bastian confessed. “There was a lot of hatred inside him. He polluted my mind after my parents died. Fitzy convinced me that my feelings didn’t matter. The internal voice of my grandfather held me back.”
“You’ve done well, Bash. Don’t discount the progress you made on your own.”
“I didn’t realize how much I wanted a family of my own until after he died.” Bastian nibbled on my earlobe. “I want to have a family with you.”
“We have a family,” I said in a hushed tone. “Sofia is your daughter.” I clutched his hand right over where the boys kicked me. “The twins are yours, too.”
“You know what I mean, Cherry. I will always treat our children as if they are biologically mine. But I want a kid with you.”
“I get it.”
But did I?
I hadn’t considered the arrangement from my husbands’ view. They made it seem so effortless. Like they were always meant to be in a polyamorous relationship with me.
“Marcello is next.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Then you’re all mine.”
“I can’t wait to have your baby.”
“It will be worth the wait.” He rubbed my stomach. “I’m just glad to have everyone at home.”
“You were worried about Marcello, huh?”
Until now, he hadn’t mentioned a single word about what happened to Marcello. Instead, he acted as if he were unaffected.
They all did.
“Yeah,” Bastian muttered. “I’m all fucked up over Marcello. He could have died in that cave. We could have lost him forever.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“None of us are okay, not even Luca. He holds it all in and acts like everything is fine. Losing Marcello would have killed him, too.”
“You need each other,” I pointed out. “It’s okay to need your brothers. The same blood doesn’t have to run through your veins for you to be a family.”
Bastian’s cheek pressed against mine, his tears wetting my skin. “Family is the most important thing to me.”
“All of you went through childhood trauma together, horrible things other people won’t understand. And it bonded you.”
“It did,” he agreed.
“You love them, Bash. And they love you.”
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help Marcello. He’s been struggling and won’t talk to any of us.”
For the past two weeks, Marcello had only talked to me about his experience. He woke up every night sweaty and out of breath. Some nights, he even thought I was the enemy until he snapped out of it.
“Maybe it’s your approach,” I suggested. “Show this side of yourself. It will help Marcello feel like he can talk to you.”
“You know how men are.” He laughed. “We don’t know how to do this. Feelings and all that shit.”
