by Bethany-Kris
It was like his father had taken the air right out of his lungs with that statement. Cross didn’t even know how to respond.
Instead, he settled on a quiet, dumb, “Oh.”
“I know—it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“I’m not sad,” Cross murmured.
And he wasn’t.
He was a lot of things.
Sad was not one of them.
“It’s not about being sad. It’s about change, and moving into a new chapter. It’s about letting go of a hand that’s been holding onto yours for twenty-three years. And it’s fucking fine to not know how you want to feel about that, son.”
“Is this how you felt, too?”
Calisto cocked a brow. “What, when Cam married?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
“I wondered,” Cross admitted.
“And for you, too.”
Cross glanced up again at that statement. “What?”
“I felt like this when you married, too. Of course, I had a much longer time to prepare for you leaving than I did with Cam. You started walking ahead of me as soon as you learned how to run your mouth, and talk back. I figured by the time you were a grown man, it would be … well, not fine, but a happy moment for me to see you marry and start a life for yourself.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“It was,” Calisto returned, shrugging, “but it was also heavy. I didn’t realize that there was still a piece of me holding onto the part of you that was still a little boy. The little boy who followed me around nonstop, and thought I was his hero. And the little boy who fell asleep in the back of my car, and played with his trains and trucks under my desk. So yes, I was happy, and it was also heavy.”
Cross blinked. “But you didn’t seem … you smiled all day.”
“And you will smile today, too. All day.”
Catherine poked her head in the private room, and looked Cross’s way instantly. “Someone said I was needed in here?”
At the sight of his wife, Cross couldn’t help himself.
He smiled.
She was excited—she had been planning and planning and planning some more for this day. Cece’s number one supporter, all the way, no matter what their daughter wanted to do with her life. Catherine was always there to tell their girl, yes, be amazing.
She was the best mother.
“What’s up?” Catherine asked.
“I can’t fix my tie right,” he lied.
Catherine clicked her tongue, but didn’t even question him. “All right, then.”
“Cece?”
Cross held his breath just as Cece turned around to find him in the doorway of her private suite. All of the women that had been fussing over her stopped for a moment, and became still statues. He was grateful for their silence. It gave him a moment to just … appreciate how beautiful and grown up his girl was.
Her ivory lace, ball gown style wedding dress made her look like every inch the princess she had grown up as, and like the queen she would soon become. Seems she had gone with sweeping her hair up, instead of wearing it down. Her makeup was striking with dark red lips, and a smoky flair around her eyes.
He expected nothing less.
“Look at you,” Cross said.
A wide grin spread across his face as he held his arms out, and came closer to his daughter. She beamed right back, already coming for him, too.
Cross caught Cece in his embrace, and brought her close enough to cup her cheeks, and make her look up at him. She smiled widely—all happy, and ready to start her life. Despite the heaviness in his gut, he smiled back.
He had to.
How could he not?
“Out, out,” he heard someone say.
Cross barely got the chance to look up, and the women were leaving the room. Giving them some privacy, it seemed.
Again, he was grateful.
Now, his attention was on just one.
Cece.
She pointed at him. “Don’t you make me cry, okay? Ma made me cry earlier, and they had to redo all of this makeup. My skin can’t take a third round, Daddy.”
Cross laughed. “You know, I don’t think Juan would give a shit how you looked when you walked down the aisle, as long as you did actually walk down to meet him.”
Cece fake glared. “Still!”
Quickly, Cross brought her in close, and dropped a kiss right to the middle of her forehead. For a long while, the two of them simply stood like that.
Him kissing her forehead.
Her, holding tight to his arms.
There was a time when this woman—this girl he helped create—wouldn’t let him go at all. A time when her fingers had been small enough to wrap around his thumb, and he could hide her away in his arms.
He remembered a treehouse she loved.
A princess bed.
Books every night.
A little brother who was her very best friend.
Cross had so many things he wanted to tell her. So many things he could tell her that were running through his mind about her life, and how she had changed his with one single breath. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say them.
Not right now.
Not yet.
“I love you, Daddy,” Cece said quietly.
He nodded, and for a second, his smile faltered. She couldn’t see it, though, because he was still kissing her forehead.
“I love you, my Cece.”
Cece pulled back with another wide smile. “Are you ready to walk me down the aisle?”
He smiled back.
No, he thought.
“Whatever you need,” he said instead.
It was just them left behind the church doors, now.
Cross and Cece.
The flower girl had gone.
The ring bearer, too.
All the bridesmaids, and Cece’s maid of honor.
It was just them, now.
Her fingers tightened around Cross’s arm as she glanced down at the bouquet of white and pink roses decorated with jewels.
“Did you see Nazio with Rosalynn today?” Cece asked.
She said it in a whisper, like someone might be around to hear them, and she didn’t want her secrets overheard. All conspiratorial and amused like her mother was whenever Catherine had some cute secret to share.
It almost made Cross laugh, really.
“I did see them,” Cross mused. “Quite a pair.”
“It’s only been a month,” Cece pointed out.
“And yet, you can’t separate them.”
Zeke was both amused and frustrated that his almost eighteen-year-old daughter had suddenly found she would much rather chase Cross’s son to the ends of the earth and back instead of her dreams of becoming a world-class pianist.
Thing was … Cross knew Rosalynn would get back to her dreams, only now, with someone good and honorable to make sure she followed through. Once the newness of a first love was settled with them both, the girl would find her way back to the dreams that followed her from the time she was a young lady. Nazio would be her greatest supporter at the end of every day, and at the beginning of each morning.
Because that’s who Naz was.
That’s how they raised him to be.
Right now, though, Naz and Rosalynn were still trying to figure this love thing out.
It amused Cross to no end.
“They caught them in the confessional,” Cece whispered.
Cross pressed his lips together hard to keep from laughing. It didn’t help because his shoulders shook from the force, anyway.
“If that was me, you would not be laughing,” Cece pointed out.
“I probably would,” Cross said. “Listen, you two are my kids. I’m not going to act surprised when you all do things that I would have done. Because yes, I would have absolutely done that, Cece.”
She just shook her head.
“Are you sad?” he heard her ask.
Cross laughed softly. “N
o.”
It was a battle he had been dealing with all day. A fight that just wouldn’t seem to drop. One moment, he was caught up in everything happening, and the happiness of his family. And then the next, he was thrust into a catacomb of nostalgia.
“No?” Cece asked.
“I thought I might be,” Cross admitted, bringing her a little closer to his side to hug her with one arm, “but really, I’m just happy to see you where you want to be, Cece.”
She beamed up at him.
Forever his little principessa.
A Donati queen with Marcello blood.
And a new last name on the way.
She came from the best of the best. Their legacies were ingrained in his daughter, and she would carry it well. He bet she was going to do more with it than they ever had. And he couldn’t wait to watch her do it, too.
Like his son.
Because these kids … these little people they raised to be adults were the most amazing humans on the earth. They were a perfect mix of their mother and father, but with just enough of their own quirks and personalities to make them stand out.
They were amazing.
They were going to do amazing things.
And maybe …
Maybe that’s when Cross finally felt a little more settled. Maybe that’s when the heaviness left him because he knew … this was what fathers did.
This was life.
The doors finally opened.
And Cross walked his daughter to her future.
He was still smiling, too.
The End
Cross/Catherine POV
Catherine
“Finally, he picks up the fucking phone,” Miguel muttered, turning his back to Catherine as they headed across the tarmac. “Juan, just because you’re on your honey—”
Miguel’s words abruptly cut off, and then his shoulders stiffened. He pulled the phone away from his ear, and glared at the screen.
“He hung up on me!”
“Because they’re on their honeymoon,” Catherine reminded her friend.
“Yeah, but—”
“I would have hung up on my parents, too, Miggy.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Catherine pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. All these years, and it was still only Cece who would get away with calling Miguel that nickname. It was still the cutest thing ever, too.
No one could tell Miguel that, though. His poor little pride might take a hit, but behind his back, he was Miggy to everybody, regardless of what he thought or wanted. It just was what it fucking was.
Catherine smacked her friend in the back of his head as she passed him by, and just as quickly, slipped into the backseat of the waiting Rolls-Royce. A ride meant for a queen. Soon—someday—she was going to give her crown up.
Hand it over.
Pass the legacy on.
She wasn’t ready, yet.
Neither was Cece.
It would still happen.
Soon.
“You think you’re such a smartass,” Miguel said, leaning into the car.
Catherine grinned. “I know I am.”
Besides, she had to keep Miguel on his toes. Cece was no longer a little girl keeping Catherine’s right-hand man constantly on watch at every second of the day. Catherine liked to try and fill in to keep Miguel entertained instead.
Good friends were hard to find.
“Yeah, yeah.” Miguel moved to close the door as he said, “Where to first, regina?”
“Business first.”
She was in Cali.
Business always came first in Cali.
“Business it is,” Miguel said.
Catherine looked over the information on the tablet in her hands. Nothing unusual stood out to her, or made her take pause. Nothing as cause for concern, anyway. Glancing up at the woman sitting across from her in the Four Seasons room, Catherine nodded.
“I think you are all set, Jamee,” Catherine said
“Yeah?”
“I don’t see why not.”
The young woman beamed—happy and proud at the same time. “So, when do I start?”
“Soon,” Catherine said, “but you’re going to learn before you ever get sent out on your own with a list of clients. I’m glad Cece found you, though. She has a good eye for girls that do well in this business.”
One of many things her daughter did well.
“Thank you, Cath—”
Catherine smiled, stopping the woman from saying anything more. “Regina, Jamee. It is always regina.”
Jamee nodded. “Right, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Catherine gestured a finger toward the door, and said, “Either Miguel, or I, will be in contact soon. You’re going to need a whole new … well, you’ll see. I think I will wait for Cece to get back from her honeymoon, but you will be well taken care of until you start pulling in money of your own. Okay?”
“Sure, yeah.”
Catherine waved her fingers. “Bye.”
Just like that, the young woman was dismissed. Thankfully, Jamee seemed to understand her place as one of the new upcoming girls for Catherine’s organization because she quickly stood from the couch, and left the hotel room without a look back.
If there was anything Catherine hated the most from a girl, it was insolence or ignorance. She blamed her mother for that. Catrina had never accepted any kind of behavior that was less than stellar from a girl—or a man, really. It kind of passed over onto Catherine because she found little to no patience for nonsense.
Tossing the tablet to the couch, Catherine leaned back, and rubbed at her temples with two fingers. Her meetings were done for the day, and now she could relax. Another couple of days, and she would be back home with her husband where she belonged.
Oh, she loved her job.
She earned this place.
She was queen.
There was still a part of her yearning to get to the place where it was just her and Cross again. Her and him without life getting in the way, and business keeping them apart for days or weeks at a time.
She didn’t think she was asking for very much.
“Regina?”
Catherine peered over at the door to find Miguel popping his head inside with a grin. “What?”
“How did that go?”
“Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Cece can find them, let me say,” Catherine murmured.
“She does have a knack for that,” Miguel agreed.
“I think I’m going to have a shower, and then call my husband. Would you mind if we went down for dinner a little later?”
Miguel cocked a brow. “You have one more meeting.”
Catherine gave the man a look. “No, I—”
“Yes, you do. One of the girls. Last minute thing.”
“Miguel.”
“I told you. Did you forget?”
Catherine heaved a sigh. “Maybe.”
Who fucking knew, lately?
“Downstairs,” Miguel told her, “in the dining room. You wanted to have it there since you knew it would be closer to dinner.”
Miguel offered all this to Catherine like it was gospel, and he knew what he was talking about. She really didn’t have any reason to distrust him, and lately, she was kind of flaky on important things piling up.
That happened when you were planning a wedding. Although, now the wedding was over, and she was hoping to return to some semblance of a normal human being. Who was to say if that would actually be the case?
Her life was nonstop.
Chaotic.
It had always been this way.
Miguel glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes, regina.”
Catherine grumbled under her breath. “Fine.”
Cross POV
Cross was already standing when his wife entered the dining room with her sharp gaze drifting over the dining patrons. He could tell just by the stiffness in her posture that she wasn’t pleased. He couldn’t
help but smile knowing she would soon be fine again.
As soon as …
There it was—her gaze landed on him.
Cross fixed the button on his suit jacket with a grin as Catherine came closer. She shook her head; amusement clearly dancing in her eyes.
“I thought a meeting in the dining room was a little strange,” she said.
Cross chuckled. “Oh?”
“I never have meetings down here.”
“Yet, you trusted Miguel.”
“He’s never given me a reason not to,” Catherine said. “And you know, it’s been so busy lately for me I wouldn’t be surprised if I did set up an appointment with a girl, and forgot about it completely. My brain is …”
“Scattered?” he supplied.
Catherine nodded. “Yeah, the wedding did a number.”
“The wedding is over, babe.”
“It is.”
“Our kids are all out of the house.”
Catherine lifted her brow. “They are.”
“Adults, now.”
“Wow,” she murmured, “hard to believe.”
“Believe it,” he said.
“And here you are, too.”
Cross flashed one of his signature smiles. “I had to come see my wife. Love my wife.”
“Is that so?”
“Catherine, that will always be so.”
Sometimes, endings were just the beginning of something entirely new. For them, this was a new chapter. A different place in their lives to begin marking down memories.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Catherine smiled. “That I love you.”
“Are you going to steal my line, babe?”
“Never.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
Cross reached out, and grabbed his wife to pull her into his embrace. All these years, and holding Catherine close was still the best goddamn part of his day.
“I love you, babe.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Always.”
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and three dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, a snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a spouse calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.