He strokes my back and cups my head in the warmest embrace I’ve ever known.I fill my lungs with his masculine scent and bask in his strength until my emotions settle.When I lift my head, my bones ache from the force of my turmoil.
“I ruined your shirt,” I croak.
The corner of his lips curl, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“This is nothing compared to what you did to my sheets last weekend,” he murmurs.
A flush works up from my toes.
I grimace and push away from him.He drops his arms.
“Take it off.I’ll wash it,” I say.
He crosses his arms over his chest and lifts a brow, demanding an explanation for my tears.
I grit my teeth and take a deep breath before stripping off my shirt and bra.
His hunger morphs to cold fury as he notices the bruising on my tender flesh.He reaches for me but drops his fists to his sides.
“What the fuck happened?”he demands.
“I had a mammogram.I get one every year,” I say.
He swallows and uncurls his fists.His eyes study my face as though to pull answers from me, but I stand frozen, too scared to move and reveal the depths of my misery.
“A mammogram is the test they do to screen for breast cancer, right?”he asks.
I nod.
“Your mom…”
His voice trails off as he connects the dots.
I nod again.
“Did you?”
A sob escapes my chest, but I nod again.Strong arms wrap around me, encasing me in comfort and safety, and I lose control.
Despite the questions wafting from him, he doesn’t push me to speak.I can’t, even if I wanted to.Horrible, gut-wrenching misery pours from me as I release the fear and pain hidden in my soul.
Matteo Ricco becomes my shield and support as I purge years of loneliness and uncertainty.When the flood finally subsides, I find myself curled up in his lap as he cradles me to his chest on the futon.Wrapped in my blanket with him running his fingers over my scalp, I melt as the last of my strength slips away.
“Tell me everything, Brook,” he says.
His guttural rumble reveals his worry and emotional agony.I nod, swallow, and take a deep breath.
“About two years after my mom started treatment, I found a mass in the underside of my left breast.Tests came back malignant.They removed it.I didn’t need chemo because we caught it early, but now every year…”
“You relive the horror,” he murmurs into my hair.
I nod.
His deep breath shifts me in his arms.
“I’m the first person you’ve told, aren’t I?”he asks.
I nod again.Small and pathetic, my mouth reveals more than I intended.
