After the traitor’s been hauled away, Shane gestures to the cars, his voice gruff with disdain. “Let’s go home.”
I squeeze Kiara’s hand. “You hear that, sweetheart? Time to go home.”
Chapter 38
Rory
“Where are we going?” Kiara snuggles herself against my arm a little tighter as we walk. It’s quickly becoming one of my favorite things.
“You’ll see.” The smile on my face comes easy, like the rhythm Kiara and I fell into almost from the first moment we met.
“Uh-huh.” She gives me a sidelong glance that I don’t return. “And are you planning to play Mister Sexy Mysterious Alphaall day, or just until lunch…?”
She’ll pay for that sarcasm later tonight, which only widens my smile.
I press my lips to her temple. “Did you hear from Mae?”
“I did!” She grins. “Thanks for helping me track her down. I never would’ve known how to find her.”
It was difficult but so worth the effort to see that look on Kiara’s face. I kiss her cheek. “It was nothing. Come on, it’s this way,” I say, steering her across the road.
Under my left arm, one of her mother’s paintings is wrapped in brown paper. An original Libertas.
If I could go back and tell my childhood self that I’d one day walk down a New York street with a world-class work of art onmy arm and a million-dollar painting under the other, I don’t think he’d believe me.
He probably also wouldn’t believe that one day, his mom wouldn’t remember his face. That familiar pinch of ambiguous loss, of bitter helplessness spreads through me. Dents my smile pretty quick too.
I’m not at all sure that this is a good idea, but I do know that I haven’t had the strength to come here in a long time.
But because of Kiara, today I do.
When we round the last corner and find ourselves standing in front of my mother’s assisted living care facility, all Kiara’s humor melts away.
We both stop, and she regards me with tenderness in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?”
“You don’t have to come in with me if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, dummy.” She slaps my arm. “So I could have gotten her something nice. She’s your mom.”
Sometimes, Kiara De Luca is so sweet, it nails me like an arrow in the heart. I’m not sure how she manages to be so gentle when she’s lived the life she has.
And I’m not sure how I managed to snag a girl like this and keep her as my own. It still blows me away, if I’m being honest.
I press a kiss against her lips, soft and slow, the way she likes whenever we’re not alone in our room. “Don’t worry.” I lean our foreheads together. “You are bringing her something.”
I brace myself as we walk in.
That artificially pleasant smell that only thinly veils the combined musk of cleaning products, clinical supplies, and the elderly assaults my nose. We take an elevator from the seventies up twelve floors, walk down two hallways, and stop at the third door on the right. We’re here.
My mother’s suite.
This is it… Me introducing the woman I love to the other woman I love.
My mother sits in a small brown armchair, flipping through a magazine. She’s thin, her pink shawl hanging loose around her shoulders and over her brown skirt. Her forehead and cheeks are wrinkled, and her auburn hair has liberal gray streaks, but she’s still the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen.
Well, besides Kiara.
“You have some guests, Mrs. O’Connor.” Her nurse gestures to us as we shuffle over to the center of the room.
