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“Because he told me he’d be back in a week and he never returned.” That hurt a hell of a lot more than I’d ever admit to anyone. Alessio Bianchi managed to get inside my walls and make me feel something I never thought possible. Yet even now, when I think of him, my heart melts and all those feelings start to surface.
I don’t hate Alessio. I never could. But I don’t trust him, and that’s something I don’t think will ever change.
His eyes soften as he looks at me. “Okay,” he says, and I pray that this’ll be the end of it.
“Next month, we’re doing a local talent exhibition in the gallery,” I say proudly. It’s something I wanted to do, spread out and open the gallery for local artists to showcase their talent. “I had over three hundred entries. I hate that I could only pick seventy.” It’s always heartbreaking to send an email telling someone they won’t be featured.
“If this is a success, then hold another one and invite those who weren’t able to be featured,” he tells me, listening with rapt attention.
He’s so supportive of my work and what I do. He’ll listen to me for hours talking about what I want to do to bring more people to the gallery. Thankfully, I’ve been lucky and have a steady flow of clients looking to buy pieces. And I have been able to expand my gallery by buying out the store next door. My dad gave me the money to buy my first store, and I paid back the loan, even though he didn’t want me to.
“If you’re around, I’d love for you to come.”
“I’ll be there,” he promises me.
“Great, and that invitation extends to Hazel, Dad. If you two are together, that means she’s family. So next family dinner, she had better be there.”
His chuckle is deep and throaty. “I’m proud of you, Gab. The woman you have become is amazing. You’re smart, kind, caring, and loving. You could have walked away from me when you moved to Indianapolis, told me you were done. I wouldn’t have blamed you. Instead, you gave me the opportunity to repair the damage I caused to our relationship, and you gave me the chance to be a better man. I love you.”
Tears fill my eyes as I stare at him. “You’re my dad,” I tell him simply as I get to my feet and walk into his open arms. “I love you too.”
I couldn’t be where I am today without him. Losing Mum hurt me so much. It was hard leaving Spain, but I knew I had to. Dad flew back and helped me get home. He was a shoulder to cry on and someone I could talk to. Him and Raylee helped me through my darkest hours. Without them, I would be in a deep state of depression.
Dad’s cell rings and I pull away, letting him get it. As much as he’s trying to put distance between family and work, work still needs him. His eyes brighten a touch when he sees the screen, and I know it’s Hazel calling him. He always gets that spark whenever he speaks to her.
I walk toward the bedrooms and stop at Anthony’s. It’s hard to believe my little boy is three. He’s amazing, and I’m so in love with him. I never knew what people meant when they talked about the love you have for a child is different than that to anyone else until I held Anthony in my arms for the first time. My heart filled with so much emotion, it took everything in me not to cry. I held my boy for hours, just staring at him,visualizing everything about him. I find myself doing it still to this day. I always check on him while he’s sleeping. I stare at his peaceful face, making sure I take in every single detail.
Pushing open his bedroom door, my heart warms as I see him fast asleep, his stuffed animal tightly held in his arms. It was a gift from Raylee when he was a baby, and he’s never without it. Thankfully, Ray had the foresight to ensure we had a spare, in case anything happened to it. I press a kiss against his head, thankful to have him in my life.
Giving birth to him was hard. It was chaotic, and it was painful. What was meant to be a natural birth went AWOL. I wasn’t dilated enough, and Anthony was in distress—as was I. I ended up needing an emergency c-section and lost too much blood. I hemorrhaged. It was touch and go whether or not they’d have to do the drastic measure of taking my womb. But we’re both here, we’re both happy and healthy, and I couldn’t ask for more.
When I was released from hospital and returned home, I was shocked to find Christina waiting at my house, a sweet but fake smile on her face. She congratulated me on the birth of my son and then proceeded to tell me I took the lazy way out by having a cesarean section. I was three days post op, I was tired, sore, and my patience was gone. I informed the stupid cow that as long as my baby was okay, that’s all that mattered. Giving birth—no matter how you do it—is an amazing experience, and no one should be shamed for it.
Thankfully, she backed off when my dad walked in with mine and Anthony’s bags. He glanced between us, and obviously noticing the tension, told Christina to back off. Which she did for all but a minute. She then had something to say about me not breastfeeding Anthony. Something I tried to do, but ultimately failed. She made me feel like a bad mother, that giving Anthony formula was the worst thing in the world. But Raylee went off onher and made sure I knew that I was doing everything right for me and my baby. It was a stressful week, and I was so glad when Christina returned to Denver and left me the hell alone. There was only so much criticism that I could take, and I was close to losing my mind with her.
“Sweetheart,” Dad whispers as he walks into Anthony’s room behind me. “Are you okay?”
I turn and look at him. “I’m good, just reminiscing,” I say with a smile.
His eyes darken slightly. “Almost lost you that day.”
“Hardly,” I whisper as we leave Anthony’s room. “We’re here, Dad, and that’s all that matters.’
He nods. “That is true. Hazel’s delighted to be coming to dinner. She was a little nervous that you wouldn’t accept her.”
I raise a brow. “Oh, and why is that?”
He glares at me, his lips twitching. He knows I’m only joking. “Because of her age.”
I lift my hands in the air once we’re in the kitchen. “I’m not your mother, neither am I hers. What two consenting adults do is none of my business. The only thing I care about, Dad, is that you’re happy. I can see that you are with her.”
“She’s a nice woman. She’s family oriented, and she’s kind and caring.”
“That’s all I could want for you. I have no idea what you saw in Christina. She’s everything you despise.”
He nods. “Sometimes, sweetheart, we have to make a deal with the Devil himself to get what we want, and that’s exactly what I did when I married her.”
I shiver at the thought. God, I don’t think there’s anything worse than marrying someone you hate. I guess my dad wanted to be the boss of Denver, and to do so, he had to marry someone in power, which is where Christina came along. The two of themwere miserable, and in the end, they ruined countless lives with their affairs.
