Monza 3 (Formula Men #3) (7 page)

A mixture of emotions played havoc within her as she watched her son.

My father and mother were both delighted at the sight of the new addition to the family. They both gushed that the little man was my mini-doppelganger and how he reminded them of when I was born. So much so that my mother was brought back to tears once again as she recalled that memory.

I wasn’t particularly moved by her epic display of being a doting grandmother. One couldn’t be blamed since I still had a ton of reservations about her sincerity. I supposed time would tell with her, but for the time being, she seemed thrilled to see the grandson she had plotted to have killed since she had been frightened that he would turn out less than perfect, and that would be an outright tragedy for the primed and guarded pedigree of our society.

They stayed for another hour before taking their leave. My father and Kimberly were getting on well. And as for my mother, they both tried to find a common ground to talk about, which wasn’t much, so they opted for the safer subject of Gian Luca. Well, maybe the operative word wasn’t
safer
; that would be overkill.

Nove

Today had been quite eventful. After lunch, my thoughts were basically consumed by the anticipation of tonight. I shouldn’t put much effort into fussing about it, but I took it as a token that things were moving fluidly in the right direction. I had been a starved man, vying for some affection, and I loathed myself a little for even feeling the way I was. There was nothing appealing about being too obsessive.

Shaking my head, I carried on, finishing up work. It took me about another ten minutes to send out all the required emails before I finally made my way upstairs. My mind was so boggled it took me a while to realize that Kimberly was standing in the hallway, peeking through the small crack in Gian Luca’s door.

My heart ached at the thought of the agony she experienced each day, missing her newborn baby yet not having the strength to overcome her fears.

Without another thought, I reached out to her, pulling her beside me as we both looked in the room as the nanny tried to put him to sleep.

“He misses you, too.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath from her.

“I still feel so guilty. Dad’s been telling me I should stop before this negativity takes hold of me and really takes root inside my heart. He said, if I let it fester for a long period of time, I will miss out on Gian Luca’s best years, and I might come to regret that.”

John had a point. He had delivered it rather boldly, but then again, maybe it was what she needed to hear. Her father’s words had obviously influenced her, or she wouldn’t be standing here.

“Come,” I whispered as I grabbed her hand. “We can do this together.”

She immediately looked startled, but she didn’t outright reject my suggestion.

“If you feel like it’s too much, we can leave, but you have to try every day, even if it’s the most difficult thing you have to do. As much as I love him, it isn’t enough, Kim. He needs you. He needs his mom.”

She nodded, and then I pushed the door to let us inside. Upon seeing me, the nanny beamed as she strode towards me and gently transferred the little bambino into my arms, allowing me to cradle his warm, tiny form.

“Do you mind giving us some privacy?” I asked softly, and she happily sprinted out of the room.

Not wanting to make her feel pressured now that we were all by ourselves, I just continued trying to put him to sleep.

As much as I adored feeding him, these nighttime rituals were my favorite, because I loved watching him sleep like the little angel he was. There was nothing more peacefully beautiful than watching my son sleep.

“May I hold him?” Kimberly meekly asked before adding, “Please.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

She situated herself in the rocker, and then I tucked the baby in her arms. No words could fully describe how I felt when I saw tears in her eyes as she gazed down on him with such profound love.

“Mommy hasn’t been well, my little one. I’m sorry for being the way that I am, but I’m getting stronger every day. Forgive me, my love.”

It took every ounce of me to remain there, silent, unmoved as I gave her this moment to reintroduce herself into his world. I couldn’t help feeling triumphant that they had finally reunited. It was hard to comprehend that a mother who had just recently given birth to a baby would detach herself from her infant, though it was more common than one would imagine. Maybe that was why the news was filled with stories of mothers committing horrific tragedies. I wasn’t making an excuse about their actions, but one could imagine the inner workings their mind went through to get to that selfish, evil decision.

I was simply grateful Kimberly had possessed the strength and courage to fight whatever was holding her down. Slowly but surely, she was coming out of her shell. It was like going through a barren winter before spring came in, full of blooms, full of color, full of life. It was magnificent.

We stayed with our son for about an hour and a half then retreated back to my bedroom. As expected, she was overwrought with overwhelming emotions, but what mattered most was the smile she had across her face after expressing the turmoil she had experienced from holding Gian Luca after almost a month of not daring to touch him.

Our first night together was filled with good vibes and laughter. It was better than I had anticipated.

I would do anything just to see her smile the way she had tonight. She had no idea how much I longed to see that again.

With the lights out, we then went to bed, and I automatically sought her warmth, holding her close against my chest. It was the most natural feeling one could ever experience—familiarity.

She gave a small yawn before turning over to face me in the dark. And even though there wasn’t much light, her eyes penetrated mine like there was.

“I’m going to be better.”

“You will be,” I immediately squashed her doubts, singularly catering only to positivity.

She seemed as if there were lingering thoughts that were plaguing her once again.

“On the days I might retreat from him again, I beg you not to give up on me, even if you have to force me, Luca. I can’t allow myself to miss out on him so much. I know it’s only been less than a month, but so much has happened with him. Will you do that for me?”

“I promise … I won’t give up on you. Ever.”

+++

Every night, Kim and I would visit our son in the nursery before going to bed. It had been three weeks since that emotionally charged moment, and she appeared to be improving the more she worked on her guilt and the pain of losing her brother. She and I often discussed it when we were in bed together. It was becoming a good habit to have—sharing one’s thoughts with your partner.

Her annulment should be coming up soon, and I had decided that I was going to wait to propose. The same thing went for sex. A lunatic idea of mine, really, but I felt as though she needed time to adjust to this life. I didn’t want another monumental moment that could push her back to mentally and emotionally blocking herself from everyone. There was no need to rush. We were both in this for the rest of our lives. And when she was ready, she only ever needed to tell me.

Yes, she and I had a lengthy discussion about this. She rebutted that I might not have the will to wait. Well, I was hell-bent on proving her wrong.

Dieci

A Year Later

It was our son’s special day, and the villa was a beautiful riot of a circus-themed party. It was an event jointly planned by my mother and Kimberly. A remarkably pleasant surprise coming from her end, and I supposed she was making headway with showing, both personally and publicly, that she supported us. I wouldn’t outright say Kimberly had fully warmed to her, but in some ways, one could say she had gotten used to being in her presence. My mother was consistently trying to mend bridges, and Kimberly seemed to truly appreciate her effort. Not to mention, she was actually quite attached to Gian Luca these days.

My mother would even sometimes visit without my father, who was the ultimate mediator between us all, because she wanted to spend some time with the baby. So, as time went on, obviously, our son grew to love her and would spit out “nonna” whenever my mother wasn’t visiting. She was particular about seeing him every other day.

The uphill and downhill battles were consistent, but what I loved the most was how Kim and I handled arguments together. We fought hard and loved twice as hard. We compromised and supported each other in a way that only solidified our relationship on a deeper level.

As for her condition, she had been given the clear six months ago. It had been a struggle, but with her persistence combined with my relentless aid in the matter, she had overcome it the moment she had re-bonded with our son. She had said it was like a light had been switched on inside of her and the sun had shined on her the moment her heart connected with Gian Luca once again.

Our son was quite attached to her now, just as he was to me. Who could blame him, really? I was a great father, if I said so myself, although I wouldn’t readily admit that to anyone.

Very soon, Kimberly would go back to University and continue where she had left off. She was thrilled, but of course, she had a few reservations about going back. Regardless, I kept encouraging her to keep on the path because she might never know her potential, otherwise.

As much as I loved her being a mother to our son, I also wanted her to see her worth elsewhere as she honed the skills she had been given. I had already taken life by the horns; therefore, I wanted her to do the same. Not to such an extent as I had, but for her to be fearless and see herself the way I saw her—intelligently brave and willing to sacrifice anything to do the right thing.

It was a large yet intimate gathering. Most of my friends had flown out for Gian Luca’s birthday. I was ecstatic to see Jacques and Andrés in the flesh. Although we had kept in touch, it was something else when you had your best mates laughing and celebrating one of the most important times in your life.

Just after everyone sang “Happy Birthday” and Gian Luca repeatedly blew his candles off the four-tiered circus-themed cake, Kimberly took one of her utensils and repeatedly clanked it against her glass of wine, hushing the guests and drawing the attention towards her.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate Gian Luca’s first birthday. Luca and I are thrilled to have our friends and family with us on this very special occasion. But I have a different agenda.” She turned towards me. “A year ago, this beautiful man saved me. He gave me some of his strength when I had none of my own. He continually showed me love when my heart was buried within itself. He supplied happiness when I was barren of smiles and laughter. I don’t deserve you, Luca, but I’m thankful that you chose to stick by me through thick and thin. I couldn’t have chosen a better partner, a loving father, and a caring daredevil of a person to spend the rest of my life with.”

My world immediately became suspended as the deafening sound of silence grew while my eyes honed in on the very bright smile she gave me. I was left breathless.

“Less than a year ago, you gave me a promise that you would wait for me. Well, I don’t want you to wait any longer. I’m ready to take the next step, marry your wild, beautiful self, and drive you crazy for the rest of our lives. Luca di Medici, will you marry me?”

I didn’t think. There was no need for it.

I marched the small gap between us and kissed her like no one’s business, right before our son, my parents, her father, our beloved friends, and relatives. I was so proud of her for brazenly proposing the way she had. Could anyone really blame me for falling for her?

“I love you. I love you, and yes, you’re definitely marrying this wildly beautiful, crazy man, cara mia.”

The background was filled with laughter, well wishes, and applause. I could have sworn, too, that I could hear Jacques and Andrés wishing Kimberly luck because she would need a good dose of it.
Bloody bastards
, I thought as I kissed her senselessly.

My son’s first birthday surely was unforgettable. His mother had made sure of that.

It took about another hour and a half of celebrating and feasting before I finally got the chance to be with the guys. As much as I loved being with Kimberly, I couldn’t deny I had missed these lunatics. While those two were busy dedicating their lives to the racetrack, I knew Andrés would retire soon due to his responsibilities back home in Spain. He was, after all, a Duke, and that came with a lot of baggage. And it seemed as though that particular
baggage
couldn’t be ignored for long if the media were to be believed.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be the first one to marry, eh?” Jacques chuckled as we enjoyed our brandy and cigars in the library.

“Sadly, that novelty has long been taken,” Andrés said, muttering to himself.

My eyes narrowed on him as if trying to read his oddly contorted expression. “You’re joking! Please tell me you’ve finally taken a fancy on one of the candidates your mother’s been parading at you?”

The Spaniard shrugged. “She’s neither. It doesn’t matter, anyway; that ship sailed years ago. Long gone … and dead. We’re divorcing.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head yesterday? ’Cause that was quite a spin you had there.” Jacques was referring to the crazy tailspin he’d had yesterday, losing the first place to the UK.

“I don’t think he did, or did he?” I asked, glancing between the two men before throwing Jacques an accusing look. “Have you been giving him drugs again?”

They did like to enhance their partying on several occasions, myself included, so this development wouldn’t be surprising. Andrés, upon recollection, had a peculiar way of reacting to recreational substances. The man had vowed never to touch such things ever again after the last time.

Jacques snickered. “It’s not off season. Oh, don’t give me that bloody look. We’ve all had our fair share of stupidity.”

Touché.

“You can say that again,” Andrés muttered before adding, “There’s a lot going on, but all I can say for now is that this might just be the last year I’m racing.”

We all knew that was going to happen. It was simply a matter of time.

“Let’s do another round,” I suggested after seeing the gloomy demeanor the Spaniard had.

After pouring their glasses, I beamed towards my comrades for life.

“Saluti,”
I said with pride.

“À votre santé,”
Jacques exclaimed.

“Salud,”
Andrés reiterated in his language.

It had always been this way. We had grown up in different countries, but we were all the same. Our bond, our brotherhood would forever remain strong.

=-=-=-=

Formula Men’s next story…

Barcelona (Andrés)

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