When You're Back
Page 57

 Abbi Glines

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“Have a seat, and I’ll fix us a drink. Would you like a martini?”
I shook my head. “A club soda will do.”
Benedetto studied me. Instead of walking over to the bar behind two large oak doors, he stood across from me. “No drink?” he asked, watching me.
“No,” I replied.
He let out a sigh, and then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Passerotta, you are to make me a grandfather.” He didn’t seem disappointed. He seemed . . . hopeful.
I nodded, waiting for more of a reaction.
He clapped his hands and let out a shout of laughter. “This is news to celebrate. Why did you not tell us as soon as you arrived? We could have had a celebration dessert prepared. Nonna will be tickled pink.”
“Mase doesn’t know yet,” I said, causing Benedetto’s smile to fade.
“He doesn’t know? But why haven’t you told him?”
Because . . . what if he left me? What if he wasn’t ready? “It wasn’t planned. He hasn’t even proposed. He’s not ready for this,” I said, my fears tumbling from my heart and out of my mouth.
“That man loves you, Reese. He adores you. He would take on an army for you. Why would you think he won’t rejoice over the news that you’re carrying his child?”
I sank onto the leather sofa behind me. “He says I am his future, but he never discusses it, really. A child isn’t in his plans. I’m going to tell him, but if he isn’t ready, I . . . I won’t be able to stay with him.”
Benedetto walked over and sat down across from me. “If he isn’t ready, you will come to me. Nonna, Raul, and I would make sure you and your baby want for nothing. But that won’t be the case. You will make that man the happiest on the planet when you tell him. He wants you forever, passerotta. This will be his insurance that he has you. He fears losing you even more than you fear losing him. I can see it in his eyes.”
I wanted him to be right. I wanted Mase and me to share the joy and excitement of the life we had created. If only I knew he’d feel the same way.
“Tell me you will tell him soon. Trust me. Trust him. Give him this chance to prove he loves you and that he wants this.”
“What if he feels pressured into doing something he doesn’t want to do? Like asking me to marry him? If he’d wanted to do that, he would have by now, wouldn’t he? He was raised by a mother who taught him right from wrong; I don’t want him proposing to me because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”
Benedetto nodded his head. “That is understandable. Men sometimes have the worst timing in the world when it comes to proposals. However, you don’t have to accept his proposal if you don’t think he means it. Let him wait. When you’re sure he loves you and wants you as his wife for no reason other than he can’t live without you, then you can say yes. But not until then.”
I could do that. Just because he felt he had to propose didn’t mean I had to feel that I had to say yes. We didn’t have to be married, anyway. There wasn’t a rule book that said we had to be married to be parents.
“OK. I’ll tell him. And if he proposes, I’ll say no. For now.”
Benedetto smiled and patted my hand. “Watching you drive this boy crazy will be an endless source of entertainment for me. I hate that I will miss so much when you’re back in Texas.”
“Thank you,” I said.
His expression turned serious, and I saw something in his eyes that made my heart ache. He seemed to be in pain. “I haven’t been the father you deserved. I failed you. I’ll never forgive myself for failing you. But know that I will use the rest of my time on earth to make sure I never fail you again. I can’t change your past, passerotta. If I could, I would take it all away. But I can’t. I can only do what is in my power. And I will use every ounce of that power to ensure that your life is full of sunlight and joy from here on out.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and I tried not to blink so they wouldn’t roll down my face. I didn’t have to tell him about my past. Looking into his eyes, I felt he already knew. I wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew something. And it was enough.
Mase
It was late when Reese finally made it to the bedroom. I had struggled with the desire to check on her several times, but she had been with her father, and they needed that time together. This was her chance to heal from the anger and pain she carried toward him.
I was sitting on the end of the bed when the door opened and she walked in. Seeing the smile on her face helped ease my mind, and I jumped up and rushed over to her to make sure she was OK. “Hey,” I said, wrapping her in my arms and inhaling her sweet scent.
“Hey,” she replied. “Sorry I’m so late. We ended up talking a lot longer than I expected.”
“About the past?” I asked, pulling back to look at her.
“Yes and no. We also talked about happy things. His childhood and how he met my mother. Things like that. Things I never knew or understood.”
“Did it help?” I wanted it to help. It would never erase her past, but I wanted her to be able to close the door on it.
“Yes. It helped a lot.” She paused, and I waited. “But that wasn’t why I wanted to talk to him. I came here for another reason.”
The touch of uncertainty and fear in her voice didn’t sit well with me. The walls she had built were about to come down, and I was scared to find out why she had built them to begin with. What did she need to talk to her father about that she couldn’t entrust to me?