R E P U T A T I O N

Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Toni's POV

January 2021

Taylor, Matteo, and I stood in the living room of our London home, surrounded by an explosion of color from the various art supplies scattered about. We had decided to spend the day painting, a cozy family activity that allowed us to bond and express our creativity together.

Matteo, his face smudged with paint, was concentrating on his canvas, tongue sticking out slightly in determination. Taylor and I couldn't help but exchange a loving glance as we watched him. Our little artist was growing up so fast.

"Mommy, look!" Matteo exclaimed, proudly showing off his colorful creation. The abstract painting was a beautiful mix of colors and shapes, reflecting the energy and imagination of our six-year-old.

Taylor beamed at him. "That's incredible, sweetheart! I love it!" She gave him a gentle, encouraging hug, careful not to smudge the paint on her own canvas.

I walked over and ruffled Matteo's hair, careful not to get paint on him. "You're quite the artist, buddy. Just like your mom."

As the afternoon progressed, we continued to paint, laughing and talking. Matteo's excitement and curiosity were infectious, and Taylor and I found ourselves inspired by his unbridled creativity.

At one point, Matteo insisted on painting a portrait of Taylor and me. We posed for him, holding hands and smiling as he carefully observed and transferred our image onto the canvas. When he revealed his finished masterpiece, we couldn't help but be amazed by his talent.

As the sun began to set, we cleaned up our art supplies and admired the colorful array of paintings that now adorned our living room walls. Taylor wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder as we gazed at our family's artwork.

"I love days like this," she whispered, her breath warm against my neck. "Just the three of us, creating beautiful memories together."

I nodded, holding her closer. "I couldn't agree more. This is what truly matters in life."

We looked over at Matteo, who was already dreaming up his next artistic adventure, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Our hearts swelled with love and gratitude for the special moments we shared as a family, and we couldn't wait to create even more memories together.

The Next Day

The chilly London air nipped at our cheeks as Taylor, my mom, and I strolled through the park, wrapped in warm coats and scarves. My mom had come to visit from the Netherlands, where she had been staying at a dementia farm with my dad. It was a bittersweet reunion, but we cherished the moments we got to spend with her.

As we walked, we chatted about life, memories, and the beautiful nature surrounding us. My mom shared stories from her youth, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia as she recalled her adventures.

As we rounded a bend in the path, we noticed a group of paparazzi lurking in the distance, their cameras aimed in our direction. Taylor and I exchanged a glance, a hint of annoyance in our eyes. We had hoped for a quiet, peaceful outing with my mom, away from the prying eyes of the media.

My mom, ever the optimist, laughed it off. "Ah, the price of fame," she said with a chuckle. "Don't worry about them, darlings. Let's just enjoy our time together."

Taking her advice, we continued our walk, doing our best to ignore the paparazzi as they snapped away. We focused instead on the beauty of the park and the precious time we were spending with my mom.

As we approached a pond, we stopped to feed the ducks, delighting in their enthusiasm as they gobbled up the bread we tossed their way. My mom regaled us with tales of how she and my dad used to feed the ducks when they were young and in love, her voice warm with affection.