Chapter 198

Chapter 198
DON LUCA

I opened my eyes and the first thing I felt was her.

Not a memory, just this pull in my chest, this ache that had her name written all over it even though I couldn't remember why.

Kiera.

The kiss yesterday had cracked something open that I'd been trying to keep sealed shut because it was easier to feel nothing than to feel everything.

I transferred myself into the wheelchair, my arms shaking slightly, and a sound drifted down the hallway, crying, a child crying, and my body reacted before my mind caught up.

I stopped outside the twins' room, the door half open.

"He was there again," Adore sobbed, "the bad man said Daddy doesn't want us anymore because we're not really his."

My hands gripped the armrests harder.

"That's not true, sweetheart," Kiera's voice was raw, "that man lied to you."

"Then why doesn't Daddy remember us?" Adonis asked, his voice harder than his sister's, angry instead of scared,

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"Daddy hurt his head very badly," Kiera said, struggling to keep steady, "sometimes people forget things for a while."

"How do you know the love doesn't go away too?" Adonis asked, and God, the way he said it, like he was already preparing himself for me to abandon them.

Silence stretched and I imagined Kiera trying to find words that wouldn't be lies.

"Your daddy is the bravest man I know," she finally said, her voice cracking, "and even if he doesn't remember, I know he still loves you because I see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching."

"Does it hurt him?" Adore whispered, "when he tries to remember?"

"Yes, baby, I think it hurts him so much."

They were worried about me, these children I'd been pushing away, and something in my chest shattered.

"I don't like when he yells," Adore said, her voice so small.

"Me neither." Adonis inputted.

"What about you, Mommy?" Adonis asked suddenly, "who takes care of you when you're sad?"

I found myself leaning forward, needing to hear her answer.

"I'm okay, baby."

"You're not okay," Adonis's voice was flat, certain, "you cry at night when you think we're sleeping, I hear you."

My wife was crying herself to sleep and I hadn't even noticed, too wrapped up in my own misery to see hers.

"Do you still love him?" Adore asked.

The silence stretched and I held my breath.

"Yes, I still love him, I'll always love him," her voice was fierce despite the tears, "love doesn't go away just because things get hard."

My heart thudded heavily and suddenly I couldn't see clearly, couldn't breathe around the tightness in my throat.

Footsteps moved toward the door and I wheeled back but wasn't fast enough.

The twins came out first, faces swollen from crying, and then Kiera.

Her eyes met mine and she froze.

"Luca, I didn't know you were awake."

"Daddy!" Adore's face lit up before fear replaced the joy.

She took a step toward me and then stopped, her small body going still, and I watched my five-year-old daughter deciding whether it was safe to come near her own father.

I'd done this, I'd made my child afraid of me.

"Come here," I said, my voice rough with unnamed emotion.

Adore looked at Kiera for permission, and Kiera nodded her encouragement.

“Go on”. She muttered and my daughter ran to me and threw her arms around my neck, clinging desperately like I might disappear.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my lap, buried my face in her hair and she smelled like strawberry shampoo and something indefinable that made my chest ache.

"I'm so sorry" I managed to say.

Adonis was still standing there, watching me with distrust in eyes that looked exactly like mine.

"You too, come here."

"Why?" His voice was defensive, "so you can yell at us again?"

"Adonis!” Kiera started but I waved my hand to stop her.

"he's right, let me handle this”. I told her before turning to look at my son.

“I have yelled, I have pushed you away, I've been cruel when you didn't deserve it."

Adonis's eyes widened, like he hadn't expected me to admit it.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words feeling like they were being ripped from my chest, "I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't want you."

"But you don't even remember us," Adonis said, his voice cracking, "how can you want us if you don't remember?"

"I may not remember your first five years," I said carefully, "but you know what?”

Adonis shook his head, his gaze keen with interest.

"When I looked at myself, I knew I must have loved you both enough to risk everything in Saving you.”

Saving you, not myself, not my legs, just you and your sister," I looked down at Adore, then back at him, "my body knew what my mind forgot, that you're mine, that I would die before I let anything happen to you."

An emotion crossed his face and I could see him wanting to believe me.

"And that bad man was wrong," I continued, rage flooding through me, "you are mine, both of you, and no one will ever take you from me again."

"Promise?" Adore whispered.

"I promise."

Adonis walked over slowly and climbed onto the arm of my wheelchair.

I wrapped my free arm around him and suddenly I was holding both my children, breathing them in, and it hurt because I couldn't remember holding them as babies, couldn't remember any of the thousand tiny moments that had made them mine.

But I had this moment, right now.

"Can we have breakfast together?" Adonis asked quietly, "like a family?"

The word settled in my chest and I looked at Kiera who was still standing there, tears streaming down her face, hand pressed over her mouth.

She was smiling and crying at the same time.

"Yes," I said, keeping my eyes on her, "let's have breakfast together, as a family."

"Go wash up," I told the twins, "we'll meet you downstairs."

They scrambled off and ran toward the bathroom, and suddenly it was just me and Kiera.

"Come here," I said quietly.

She gladly came towards me and I dragged her so that she was sitting on my thighs.

“Where were we yesterday?” I murmured and carried my lips close to her.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Let me remind you”. She whispered as her lips covered mine.