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“I would like to see them,” I tell Lena.
She squeals in delight. “Once we get home, you’ll see them all around the house. I bought a lot of picture frames recently,” she exclaims.
“Mãe!” Xavier calls out.
“I thought you’ve never taken a bad picture in your life,” I point out with one of my eyebrows quirked up.
He grumbles and then sinks into his seat as we continue our journey to his house.
Chapter31
Violetta
His house in Saõ Paolo is huge, bigger than his house in Rio. It’s basically a compound. Lena explained to us that he bought it for her once he was signed to a big Scuderia in Italy during his first year.
It’s almost the same style as his other home in Rio but filled with more life. Pictures of him and his mom adorn the house in every crevice. I have seen baby Xavier more times than I can count and I’m loving every second of it. I try to sneak pictures as much as possible, but when Xavier saw my sneaky antics, he proceeded to tickle me into taking my phone and deleted them, including the recently deleted folder.
Most days, I wake up earlier than him, which means I have the advantage of getting his baby pictures by the time I’m out of this house.
There are eight bedrooms, a private tennis court, a pool, two kitchens, and three living areas. It’s bigger than my family’s house in Mexico City.
After the grand tour, Xavier went to deal with something with his mom. Which I can assume is the reason we came here.
It’s dark outside by the time I hear them get home. I jolt up from my bed as I hear what I can assume are Xavier and his mom yelling at each other in Portuguese. The door slams as he continues to argue with Lena. After a few minutes, the shouting stops. I open my door to see Xavier walking up the stairs. Once he sees me, he stills. Then he shakes his head in frustration before storming past me to his room and slamming the door shut.
I don’t take it personally; he seems like he just went through something that most likely I couldn’t even help him with. He needs to be alone; I recite to myself before closing my door and softly falling onto the bed.
Thirty minutes later, I hear a soft knock on my door just as I am about to doze off. I get up and run a hand through my hair. Once I reach the door, I turn the door handle, revealing a distraught Xavier.
“I’m sorry,” he gets out in a whisper.
His head is down, having recently been washed, and it covers his eyes from my vantage point.
I don’t respond. I just pull him into an embrace. He’s surprised at first, keeping his hands at his sides, then they slowly rise and meet my back. He breathes out in relief at the contact, nuzzling his head into my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“Shh. You don’t have anything to be sorry about, just let me hold you.”
We stay like that for what feels like hours, hours of bliss. I like holding him and he will always have my embrace when he needs it.
He pulls back and looks me in the eyes.
“Get your shoes on. We’re going somewhere.”
Where would we be going at this time of night?
I don’t even ask; all I know is that he needs me right now. So I grab my shoes and follow. We leave hand in hand toward the garage.
An array of cars is lined up, and Xavier grabs the keys to the most basic one.
He opens up the garage and we drive off.
Xavier and I sit in silence the whole way; I watch as the city flashes past us.
We reach our final destination. The streets are made of concrete with cracks in it, which isn’t anything new to me. But once I look up, wires are all crossing each other as they sit atop run-down buildings. There’s a basketball court, but the hoop has no chain or net to catch the ball. Paint is chipping away from the walls of the buildings, and I realize that this is where Xavier grew up.
He keeps his head down in embarrassment.
