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Tears brim my eyes, but I blink them back. I can’t afford sadness right now.
I pick up the bear and hold it in my arms. It’s heavier than Grumpy, even though they’re the same size.
Is this bear a different model? Maybe it’s not just a stuffed animal, and it does tricks?
I shake it, wondering if it’ll make a giggling sound. Instead, I hear a heavy swish. I outline the bear’s face and tummy, then shake it again. Warning bells go off inside me.
There’s something in there.
I reach for the scissors I used to help open the boxes and turn the bear around. I cut the fabric, widen the opening, and remove the white fuzz.
My heart races. I’m not sure about what, but I’m close to… something. I remove the rest of the fuzz until I feel the satiny fabric. Pulling out a small bag, I clumsily open the delicate bow, too curious to be careful.
Then, I see it.
The jewels she gave me when I was a child. All of them sparkling back at me in a silent promise of hope. I squeak and clap a hand over my mouth.Take it down a notch, girl.
I recognize the chunky pearl necklace her mother gave her, and she gifted it to me when I turned eight. Then, the diamond tennis bracelet she gave me on my tenth birthday. And quite a few other jewels, some more ostentatious than others—a few I have not seen before.
Damn. My mother was planning to escape.
Realization dawns on me, stealing my breath.
We’ll enjoy it together. Soon.
She sewed the jewels in the bear. Did she plan on taking Matteo’s father with us?
A knock startles me.
I grab the bear and the bag, stuffing it inside my oversize tote. “Who is it?” I clear my throat.
“Me,” Matteo answers.
I stand, take a deep breath, and smooth my hand over my dress. Closing the closet door behind me, I will myself to calm down. I can’t share with him what I just learned. As much as I want to, I need to think about my options.
I open the door. “Yes?”
Matteo steps into the room, a touch of curiosity in his eyes. Shit. Did he hear my squeak? He glances around, taking stock of the place. “I just realized you never showed me your old room.”
I close the door behind him, carefully locking it. If he suspects anything, I need to talk to him before he possibly blurts out my findings. A part of me wants to believe he wouldn’t do it. But then again, he’s still not said anything about swimming against the current where my father is concerned. Best to be careful. “All those years, and you’ve never set foot inside,” I say casually.
He turns to me. “Your father kept it closed.”
I shrug. “Right. Easier not to think about me. Well, as you see, this is it. A spacious suite with lots of old Barbies. If you walked in here worried I’d climb through the window, you can rest easy.”
A small smile curls the corner of his mouth, and this subtle, charming move is my undoing. My toes curl, and awareness pumps through my bloodstream.
“I hate how we left things last night,” he says.
I swallow. I tell myself to step away from him, but my body won’t listen, and I slowly erase the distance between us until we’re within an inch of each other. “What do you mean, how we left things? I’m treating you fine.”
He catches a strand of my hair and curls it around his index finger, his gaze following the movement. My core melts, and I inhale deeply, but when I let the air out, it’s a heavy-hearted task. “You are. Even though I’m the person hauling you to the electric chair,” he says, a note of sadness in his voice.
Damn it. He stares at me, and I get lost in the complexity of his eyes. The familiar specks of gold flicker, but a few darker rings outline his brown irises. The almost matte rings should make his gaze more obscure, but because of the golden flecks, the effect is the opposite. I love the light I see in his eyes, like flames on a dark night. I love… everything about him. “I… don’t want you to get in trouble. You’ve been through enough.”
He dips his head lower, invading whatever’s left of my personal space. “You are trouble. What I’m feeling for you is trouble. What I’m about to do… is trouble.”
14
