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The door was opened, and he didn’t wait to announce himself or knock for cordiality. With his heartrate skyrocketing and blood expanding in his veins, he walked in.
His brother raised his gaze from the sleek monitor to him, frowning. “What happened?”
Troy closed the door behind him. He didn’t think Michelle would be the type to pry, but he needed privacy. “Mateo, I’m sorry I fucked up and slept with your wife.”
A vein in Mateo’s jaw jumped, but he didn’t move. Coolness still oozed from him, even though Troy detected an undercurrent of tension. “You’ve said this before. What makes you think it’ll be different now?”
Troy sighed. He remembered all the times Lara questioned him, wondering about why he’d done it. Hell, she’d wondered more than he. He’d assumed he was an idiot, but she acted like something deeper had taken place. The woman had too much faith in him, obviously. “It’s different because time has passed and the damage I’ve caused has dawned on me. Also, I miss you. I’m not apologizing because Dad wants me to, or because it’ll be better for business and frankly, for me,” he said, words pouring out of him. A weight eased from his heart. “I miss your friendship. Talking to you,” he said, pacing the floor, knowing full well he was too amped up to sit.
Mateo rocked back in his chair. “And that makes it all okay? You’ve ruined my marriage, and now you miss having a brother and I’m supposed to go along with it?” he said in a calm voice, but the hurt was there. “Not only do I have to deal with Dad telling me to get over it, now I have to give in because you’re lonely?”
“Mateo, I fucked up. But I didn’t ruin your marriage alone,” he said, remembering the conversation he had with Lara. “It was the three of us.”
He hadn’t been the only one to make a mistake—Michelle had, too. But why? What had driven her to cheat on her husband? Why was it so hard for Mateo admit that besides Troy’s poor behavior, something else was amiss in his marriage? Something that had been there before that sinful night—otherwise it wouldn’t have happened at all.
Mateo surged to his feet and pointed at the door. Cold, hard pain glittered in his eyes. “Get out,” he yelled.
Troy cleared his throat. Shit. “Mateo, I’m sorry. Let’s cool down and continue this conversation.”
“I don’t have anything else to say or that I need to her from you. You’re the same selfish idiot you’ve always been. If you want to have a cordial work relationship, sure. You got it. I’ll do it so Dad will get off my back. But that’s all I can offer for now.”
A cold knot formed in Troy’s stomach, twisting so hard it hurt. His brother wasn’t ready to resume their relationship, and might never be. But a cordial working relationship would have to do. It was a start, wasn’t it? He’d also added for now at the end. So maybe this conversation was a small step in the right direction. The knot in his stomach loosened a bit.
“All right.” He clasped the heavy doorknob. As much as he wanted to stay longer, his brother wasn’t ready for forgiveness yet. Hell, he wasn’t ready for a long conversation about what happened. I have to respect that. “Just know that if you ever need anything, I’m here for you. Even if me being here for you doesn’t mean much right now.”
* * *
“Do you need a hand?” Lara asked to Mrs. Gallucci, or Alessandra, like she’d insisted she be called.
Alessandra waved her off, showing the oven mitts she’d been wearing as she sauntered around the kitchen and took the risotto from the oven and put it aside. Alessandra’s housekeeper had gone out of town, so she had prepared most of it herself. “I’m good, dear.”
The scent of herbs swirled around Lara. She eyed the asparagus and the beef ribs, along with a hearty salad. She didn’t eat meat, but imagined Troy would love those ribs.
Troy. How had his conversation with his brother gone? She kept checking her phone to see if he’d texted her, but so far, no luck. Maybe that was a good sign—Mateo had forgiven him or at least engaged in a long conversation about repairing their relationship.
Lara shifted her weight from foot to foot. She’d been trying to get closer to Troy’s mom for the last half hour, but her in-law had a very polite yet distant way of communicating. Like the fact Lara joined the family and planned a party was an afterthought and not an event they did because of his parents. “Can I help you with setting the table?”
Alessandra gave her a small smile. “Sure. I didn’t want to keep you. I thought you’d want to talk to Giorgio about the wedding plans. He told me he met the planner.”
What about talking to them to you, too? The answer burned at the tip of her tongue, but she bit the inside of her cheek instead of speaking. The fact Giorgio was so hands-on with his kids’ lives was wonderful, but why couldn’t Alessandra be a bit more involved too? Why was she always acting like an outsider looking in? Those questions haunted Lara as she helped Alessandra set the table adorned with expensive and pristine linens and the most perfect set of china Lara had ever seen.
“Troy and I are, hmmm, so excited about the reception party,” Lara said, once they entered the kitchen again.
Alessandra removed her oven mitts and placed them on the counter. “So are we, dear. I’m glad Troy has found you.”
Every fiber in Lara’s being warned her against making more comments. They should keep it superficial. Don’t rock the boat, her common sense pleaded. Not when they’d gotten so close to mending things. His family liked her, he’d been talking to his brother about a reconciliation. But a need to probe inside her shut all those voices down off. Her pulse skittered. “Are you really? You seem so… reserved. I just wondered if maybe I’m not—”
Alessandra lifted her hand in denial. “Oh no, honey, you’re great. I’m happy you’re marrying my son,” she said, then regarded her with kindness. “Troy has always been my wild one. When he was little, especially after his brother was born, he’d always find a way to get into trouble. To get scraped or hurt. Always loved outdoor activities and sports, that one.” She touched her chest, exhaling. An emotion touched her eyes, darkening them for a moment. Then, they became glossy. Teary. Sad.
Lara’s throat went dry. “Do you think he’d do that to get your attention?”
Alessandra nodded, slowly. “Yes. It was common at first… sibling rivalry. It happens especially when they’re so young.” A tear fell down her cheek. “Once, I’d been with Mateo all weekend because he had a flu. Poor thing. And next day, Troy had an accident with his bike and got a few stitches.”
Lara stepped back until her backside hit the counter. She’d always wondered about Troy’s reason for acting the way he had. The so-called fuck up excuse. Did he have mommy issues instead of daddy issues? Had he subconsciously sabotaged his relationship with his own brother to get his mother’s attention—since he was no longer a child and couldn’t count on cuts and scratches? “Was he okay?”
“Yes. My husband took him to the emergency room. I learned then to let him take reins on all things.”
She still did that. All of it made sense now—the way Alessandra had fled the room when Mateo had told his brother off that night Lara met them. How she didn’t visit Troy and kept her subjects on a superficial level with everyone. How to thread this, though? Acid burned in Lara’s stomach.
