Amore mio 2

74.

Him.

As I eased the car to a stop in front of the private dance academy, I stole a glance at the rearview mirror. There he was, my little Max, seated in the back, his small hands folded, his thumbs twiddling nervously, almost like he was trying to reassure himself with the steady motion. I could see the tension in his eyes, the way he was lost in thought. There was something achingly vulnerable in his expression, like he was standing on the edge of something big and unknown.

My heart clenched at the sight. 

I knew what this meant to him—today wasn't about sports he knew and excelled at. This was his first ballroom dance class, and for Max, it was so much more. He loved sports, every kind one could think of, and he could run and jump and tackle with the best of them. But dancing? That was new, different, special. All because of Lucia—Maxie wanted to be good for her, he wanted her to be happy and like him. 

I stepped out and went around to his side. Opening the back door, I crouched down, my fingers working carefully on his seatbelt, not wanting to startle him. His big, pale green eyes met mine for a second, and I saw so much in them—hope, nerves, and a quiet determination that made me feel incredibly proud. 

As soon as the seatbelt clicked open, I lifted him out, feeling the small weight of him settle into my arms. He clung to me with a fierceness that told me just how nervous he really was, his arms wrapping tightly around my neck, his little face buried against my shoulder. His small fingers held onto my shirt, clutching just a bit tighter than usual as if he'd been waiting for that hug to steady himself, and I could feel the subtle trembling in his little frame. I pulled him close, cradling him, feeling his heartbeat against my chest, and held my son close, letting him know without a single word that he was safe, that he could lean on me.

"Deep breaths, bambino."- I whispered gently, pressing a hand to his back, feeling his heart racing beneath my palm. 

"Take it slow with me, okay, piccolo?"- I breathed with him, slow and steady, until I felt his breathing start to match mine, the tension easing ever so slightly in his small frame. 

His little fingers gripped my white shirt, holding on like he wasn't ready to let go just yet. I stroked his back, wanting him to feel every ounce of love and support I had for him. 

"You are going to be okay, piccolo."- I murmured softly, letting each word sink in. "You are going to be more than okay—you are going to do amazing out there."

His head lifted just a bit, and I could see his nervous gaze searching mine. 

"What if..."- he began, his voice barely a whisper. 

"What if I mess up? Or... or if Luci doesn't like dancing with me?"- the worry in his voice tugged at my heart. 

I knew why he was here, knew that it was Lucia who had inspired this leap. His little heart was wrapped up in wanting to impress her, to make her happy. And in his own way, he was carrying that weight like it was the world.

I brushed a blonde curl from his forehead and smiled at him. 

"Lucia is going to be over the moon just to be with you. She doesn't care about how good or bad you are—she's just happy that it's you she gets to dance with."- I watched as the worry softened from his eyes, replaced by a shy, hopeful light. 

And then, just like that, the faintest blush crept over his cheeks, his lips curling into a small, sweet, adorable smile that was all him.

"Ti voglio bene, papà."- he murmured, hugging me tighter. (I love you, daddy.)

I kissed the top of his curly head, breathing in that familiar, comforting chocolate scent of his, and I held him close. 

"Ti adoro, mio piccolo bambino."- I whispered back, my voice thick with emotion. "You are my world, and I am so proud of you. Just go out there and be yourself. That's all you ever need to be." (I adore you, my little boy.)