Mafia Betrayal

Chapter Thirty Eight

Luca

My mother and Elena hardly left the living room all evening. They were catching up on years over wine—several bottles of wine—and Charlotte and I decided it was best to let them be. The only time they even paused was when Layla went into the room, and once it was time for her to eat dinner, they went right back to their own conversation.

Charlotte made dinner and she and I were watching Layla play in the backyard over a glass of wine ourselves. We put dinner away and settled in on the patio furniture, her legs draped over my lap and the fire flickering in her eyes. I was still fighting the urge to pinch myself that this was actually my life.

Seeing Charlotte and Layla together was an absolute dream. The way they understood each other was mesmerizing, almost like they shared a brain. The same mannerisms and expressions. It was almost eery. I thought I would get used to it by now, but it still enthralled me.

"What are you staring at?" Charlotte smiled, her eyes holding a seductive glint to them.

"You." I chuckled. "You're so good with her."

"Well, I've had years of practice." She smiled, and then her face fell as if she realized what she had said. "Luca, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like..."

"You don't need to apologize, Char." I assured her. Her comment hadn't hurt me, but it did get me thinking.

"Tell me what she was like when she was a baby." I smiled, setting my glass of wine down. I picked her foot up and started massaging the bottom of it, imagining a time I would have done with after a long day when she was pregnant.

Charlotte looked out to where Layla was kicking a ball around and sighed, seeming to get lost in memories. I would have given just about anything to be inside of her head at that moment.

"She was horrendous." She laughed sharply.

It wasn't what I expected her to say at all, and I couldn't help but laugh myself. "Come again?"

Charlotte blushed, as if she was afraid to admit it. "She was a tough baby. She was colicky and cried all the time, like there was nothing I could ever do to comfort her." She frowned. "She'd cry, and I'd cry and most days I wondered who ever thought I could actually be a mother." Tears pooled in her eyes. "She would never sleep and I would spend hours pacing out little hallway trying to soothe her. Jenni would try to help, but nothing worked. It was like she just... She knew it wasn't right. That we were missing something."

It was difficult listening to her talk about it, for more reason than one. I hated that she had to go through that on her own. I wished I could have been the one pacing the hallway with her, given her a small break and tried to soothe Layla myself. And I also hated that I would never get to experience that. Not that it sounded all that fun, but it was a small piece of Layla's life, and Charlotte's, that I'd missed out on. That Charlotte and I should have gone through together. The fact that that bastard Grant took that from me still made my blood run cold. At least he was out of our life now and couldn't do any more damage.

A tear slipped out of her eyelid and she tried to wipe it off of her cheek before I saw. I leaned forward, kissing the trail it had left.

"You are an incredible mother, you know that? I can't even imagine going through what you did by yourself and for Layla to turn out as wonderful as she has. You don't give yourself credit for how you handled it. I'm so proud of you for raising her the way that you did those first few years."

"I wish you could have been there." She whispered, not taking her eyes off of our vivacious daughter who didn't seem to have a care in the world.

"I do, too, baby." More than anything.