I wanted to come up with some joke about dessert being the best part, but I was too raw. "Fuck, this is hard," I whispered as I wrapped my arms around him.
"I know, baby," Magnus said softly and then he kissed my forehead. The endearment made my eyes sting. "We'll figure it out."
"And if we don't?" I asked. "I'm going to fuck up, Magnus. It's who I am."
Magnus pushed me to my back and skimmed his fingers over my cheek. "If I ever meet whoever made you believe that about yourself, I'm going to kick their ass."
I smiled at that and then lifted my hand to brush over the bruise on Magnus's jaw … the one I'd given him. I hadn't missed the other faint bruises on his body where I'd lashed out at him the day before when he'd stopped me from leaving. "Magnus," I began, but he shook his head and his hand came up to rest on my wrist.
"Don't apologize," he said. "We both hurt each other yesterday."
I nodded. "I didn't sleep with Shelly and her friend," I blurted out. "I was just pissed that you'd been ignoring me and I wanted to get back at you … " I shook my head as I realized how incredibly stupid I sounded. "It was childish … "
Magnus sighed and turned us so he was lying on his back and I was tucked up against his side. "We really did a number on each other, didn't we?"
I let my fingers toy with his chest hair as I considered his words. "Can we just start fresh, Magnus?" I whispered. "Can we just put all that shit behind us?"
"Yeah," he murmured. "Clean slate starting now."
Magnus's fingers were running up and down my back and I couldn't hide the shiver of pleasure that rippled through me. He was right. Being here like this with him was perfect.
"Dante, would you do something for me?"
I nodded against his chest, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat.
"Will you tell me who hurt you?"
I stilled at that and then lifted enough so I could look at him. "No one hurt me. No one ever raised a hand to me," I said, confused as to why he'd even ask that question.
"I'm talking about the kinds of wounds that don't leave bruises behind."
I stiffened and shifted my eyes away from him. "Why does it matter? I thought we were starting over."
"Because I don't want the past to determine our future."
Future.
Is that what I was looking at with Magnus? A future together? The idea seemed ludicrous to me, but I couldn't ignore the flare of excitement that went through me. What if I could have what the other men in my life had with their partners? Would I finally be a part of a real family?
I lowered myself back down to Magnus's chest. No way I could look him in the eye while I told him about all the shit I'd done in the past. Maybe this would be a good thing – maybe Magnus would finally realize who he'd really asked to stay. He'd come to his senses and I could go back to being the brash, untouchable Dante. He was a hell of a lot easier to be anyway.
Yeah, I could do this … the sooner this thing with Magnus ended, the sooner life would go back to normal.
Chapter Sixteen
Magnus
"Not sure where to start," Dante murmured, his breath skating over my chest. I could tell that talking about himself was the last thing he wanted to be doing, but I didn't want to call the whole thing off.
Because I needed Dante to see that he was more than how he saw himself. But I couldn't fight a battle against an enemy I knew nothing about.
"You mentioned Brazil … is that where you're from?" I asked.
Dante nodded.
"You don't have an accent," I pointed out.
"My mother moved to the US when she was in her early twenties. She met my father who was Italian American and they got married. He died of a heart attack when I was seven."
"Were you close to him?" I asked.
"Yeah … he worked as an engineer so he was always busy, but he always made time for me. He helped me with my homework, took me to ball games and fishing … typical father son stuff, I guess. After he died, my mom decided to go back to Brazil to be closer to family. She'd discovered she was pregnant with Aleks a couple weeks after my dad died."
I waited patiently for Dante to continue since I guessed he was trying to gather the strength to re-visit a time in his life that clearly hadn't been pleasant.
"She met my stepfather a few months after we got to Brazil. She'd gotten a job as a receptionist at the auto plant where he worked. They got married about a month before Aleks was born."
"Did you like your stepfather?" I asked.
"I never really got the chance to, I guess," Dante admitted. "I could tell from the first time I met him that he didn't like me. I heard him and my mom arguing about me a few years into their marriage. My mom wanted to know why he treated me the way he did and he admitted to her that he hated having to live with the proof that she'd been with someone else … that she'd loved another man before him."
I quelled my anger at that. "How did he treat you?" I asked.
Dante shrugged. "He ignored me mostly. I tried early on to do things I thought he'd like … like get good grades, keep my room clean, that sort of thing. He never commented when I did something right, but I never heard the end of it when I messed up. I finally figured that if fucking up was all I was any good at, I should do it all the time."
There was no humor in his words. "What about Aleks? Your stepfather must have seen him as a reminder of your father too."
Dante shook his head. "It was different with Aleks … probably because he could pass Aleks off as his kid. He even legally adopted him … gave him his last name and everything."
A name the bastard hadn't been willing to share with Dante.
"My mom stopped working when Aleks was born, but we still had a good life. We weren't rich or anything, but we lived in a decent neighborhood, there was food on the table each night. But then my stepfather got hurt on the job and he couldn't work anymore. His disability check wasn't enough to pay for the house we were living in and we ended up losing it. Then his check got cut off all together after the company accused him of purposefully hurting himself to go on disability."
Dante's fingers trailed over my hand which was resting on my stomach. He began linking and unlinking our fingers.
"What happened after that?" I prodded.
"We ended up moving to the favela … it was all we could afford. My mom began cleaning houses for rich people."
"What about your stepfather? What did he do?"
"Drank and sat in front of the TV mostly. Sometimes he watched Aleks, but most of the time that fell on me or Mom would take him with her when she went to work."
"Did your stepfather ever hit you?" I asked, the truth of Dante's past sounding just a little too familiar in some spots.
He shook his head. "He was a lazy drunk, not a violent one. He mostly just ignored me and I steered clear of him."
When Dante fell silent, I stopped rubbing his back and lifted my hand to gently turn his head so he was forced to look at me. "Tell me all of it," I said softly.
He lowered his gaze and he sighed, resigned. I knew he truly thought whatever he told me would change things. It wouldn't, but I didn't bother telling him that. I'd have to show him … it was the only way he'd believe me.
"I used to go with my mom on weekends to help her clean houses. One of the couples, Fernando and Ana, were really nice to us and used to give my mom extra money because they said she always did such a good job. They offered me a part-time job doing stuff around the house like mowing the grass and cleaning the pool. My mom had to change her schedule when she got a couple of new customers, so she started going to their house on Mondays while I was in school. But I kept going on Saturdays because we needed the money."
I hadn't really understood why Dante was telling me this story, but an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach and I asked, "How old were you?"
"Thirteen," Dante murmured and I closed my eyes because I knew what was coming next.
"I didn't even realize what was happening at first. Sometimes after I was finished working, Fernando and Ana would ask me if I wanted to stay and go for a swim or if I wanted to go for ice cream. I began looking forward to seeing them and as the weeks went on, I spent more and more time with them. I'd have dinner with them, watch movies … they bought me gifts. They didn't want me to get in trouble with my mom or stepfather, so they'd give me extra money so I could tell my parents I'd been doing extra jobs around the house to explain why I was there so much. I started blowing off friends to visit them and I'd lie to my parents about where I'd been."
"When did things change?" I asked.
Dante didn't seem surprised that I'd figured out what direction his story was heading in.
"A few months after I first met them. We'd spent the day swimming and watching movies. It was late and I was tired. Normally they drove me to the bus stop near my house, but that night they suggested I sleep over. I called my mom and told her I was spending the night at a friend's house. I figured Fernando and Ana would put me in one of the guest rooms, but they asked me if I wanted to sleep in their room. We … we were still sitting on the couch … I was between the two of them. I told them I should probably sleep in a different bed because I didn't know what else to say. They began touching me and telling me it would be okay if I slept with them in their bed because they really cared about me. Fernando told me that no one needed to know. He started kissing the back of my neck while Ana put her hand on my lap. She kept telling me how special I was and then she kissed me."