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It was a mantra he’d been telling himself since he’d been brave enough to inwardly whisper the word abusive parent, even if he’d never been able to say it aloud. He was Deaf now, and he belonged to that identity, but not because of her.
Never because of her.
He passed by a photo of his aunts—his mother’s sisters who had visited twice a year and always brought him and Willow the most wonderful, random little puzzles they found when they traveled. He passed by images of his grandparents who had died within four months of each other when he was sixteen. They had loved him until he couldn’t breathe, but his mother had chosen to settle in a place a thousand miles away from the people who might have loved Wilder the way he deserved to be.
This place was not home. It was just a stark reminder of when he existed on an island, entirely separate and on his own. He wanted to go back to his life—desperately. It was hard to believe he’d woken up that morning wrapped in Luca’s arms, and now he was here, in the house that had never brought him a moment’s peace.
With a fortifying breath, Wilder made his way down the hall to his room, dropping his things off on his bed, which hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been there. His mother had cleared it of all his childhood things and set up the room as a guest bedroom. The bed had a floral duvet, the curtains light blue, the walls a soft coffee. There was a brown dresser and a matching rug, and the closet held some of his father’s old coats.
Nothing about him remained, but he recalled the day he set foot in there after he was released from the hospital and he’d asked her, ‘Is this still mine?’
She’d looked at him, shrugged, and replied, ‘For whenever you need it.’
It was impossible to tell if it was out of kindness or necessity, but he suspected the latter, and it was lying in the bed that first night that he resolved to save himself from this place. Scott had plunged the knife into his body, over and over, but Wilder had survived. He lay there, wounds itching, lungs sore every time he took a breath, and he knew he was too strong to buckle under the weight of anyone’s hatred.
He thought once it meant being alone for the rest of his life, but now…
Now, he had Luca. Now, he had soft, unending kindness from a man who didn’t believe in a single inch of himself and yet made sure Wilder knew he was worth fighting for. That he was worth waiting for. That he was worth loving.
He allowed himself a smile, because although it would be a while until he could be in Luca’s arms again, he knew that’s where he belonged.
CHAPTER 19
Luca took a breath, then affected a smile and stepped into the salon with his duffle bag over his shoulder just as Raphael was walking out. It was a crutches day, it seemed, so his progress to his desk was slower. He glanced up and looked happy to see Luca until he caught the expression on his face, and then he froze.
“You’re leaving.”
Luca rolled his eyes. “God, are you psychic?”
“I’ve just done this a lot. It happens when you work on the ground floor of a vacation rental.” He grunted as he sat, then shoved his crutches aside, the only real outward sign of his irritation.
Trying not to laugh, Luca came around the desk and propped up on the edge in front of his friend, laying hands on his shoulder. “My flight leaves in a couple hours.” Just the very thought of the airport made him think about Wilder. It made him think about driving him there and kissing him goodbye at the terminal before he got out of the car and left.
There were no promises to see each other again, just a promise to text—which they had. No details, just Wilder letting him know that he’d arrived safely, that he was tired, that he was having a bagel for breakfast. But it was enough.
“So, that’s just it?” Raphael asked, trying to push Luca away.
Luca tightened his grip. “I need you to watch my car for me. Make sure no tourist teenage assholes fuck with it, okay?”
Raphael blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Nellie is looking for a listing for me, so when I get back, I can move some shit in and stay a while.” Luca’s cheeks ached from wanting to smile. “You grew on me. Like mold.”
“You mean to say you’re staying because your boyfriend sucks good cock,” Raphael fired back.
Luca finally gave in and laughed. “That has nothing to do with it, and it’s none of your damn business.” Luca took a quiet breath, then added, “He’s going to be away for a while though. His dad died last night.”
Raphael startled and pushed his rolling chair back with his involuntary movement. Luca’s hands slipped off him, and he slid down off the desk. “How?”
“Heart attack,” Luca answered with a shrug. He stared down at his feet. “I guess it was sudden. I called Dmitri for him, and Adam’s going to take over baking while he’s gone. And I damn well plan to be here helping out when he gets back.”
Raphael dragged a hand through his hair. “What can we do? I’m sure everyone will want to help.”
“Keep Whipped going, I guess,” Luca said with a helpless sigh. “I don’t know. I just want to make sure his life doesn’t fall apart while he’s gone.”
“And you didn’t want to go with him?”
It was a sharp question, and it hurt, even if Raphael didn’t mean it to be painful. “He didn’t want me to come, and I get it. He doesn’t have a good relationship with his family, and I don’t even know what we are yet. It’s so new, and I’m still a mess.”
