All Chapters of The Wrong Bernardi: Chapter 71 - Chapter 78

78 Chapters

absolutely not, apparently negotiable

Shit.Because apparently today hadn’t already contained enough criminal gelato, wedding gowns, a kind fiancée, a dinosaur bandage, and an Italian man with enough sexual ability to make a veil catalog feel like a legally sanctioned weapon.“How flat?”He looked confused. “Completely.”“Interesting..”“We noticed what might be a small nail. We can call service.”“How long?”“Maybe forty-five minutes. Could be an hour.”I looked at my heels. Cream leather. Four inches. Made in Italy, ironically enough, because that country kept ruining my life across multiple industries.“I’ll order an Uber.”“You don’t have to.”I turned.Rhysand was already standing beside the Aston Martin with the key in his hand. “I’ll drive you.”“No.”“We live on the same street.”I narrowed my eyes.Rhysand handed the key back to the valet for a moment, walked around to the passenger side of the Aston Martin, then opened the door. “You can stand on the sidewalk until Beverly Hills becomes its own country,” he said

fatherhood, pending approval

And in the middle of all of it, there was one thing I couldn’t ignore no matter how many times I tried: the way Rhysand treated Aiden. Not with manufactured sweetness, not with the overdone effort adults usually made when they wanted a little kid to like them. But with something quieter. Steadier.Like yesterday, when Aiden proudly dragged him into a “race briefing” in the driveway, Rhysand actually crouched down and listened to the absurd rules about the “lava line” and the “gelato pit stop” like they were the most serious things in the world. He didn’t even laugh at Aiden to his face; he just nodded, asked one or two small questions, and somehow made Aiden feel like he was commanding the whole operation.That was what made me hesitate. Because I knew his history with women had never been simple, if anything it leaned toward complicated, full of distance, full of things I had no desire to dig into any deeper. But with Aiden... that distance wasn’t there.Just a patience that was stra

i am only protecting the lavender

We turned onto the street toward my house.A few seconds later, we heard it.BEEP.A tiny horn.I immediately sat up straighter.“No.”BEEP BEEP.Rhysand slowed the car.In front of my house, the driveway had turned into something between Formula One, an expensive daycare, and an unfinished coup.Aiden was in the middle of it all with his red Swiss car.My son had changed out of his preschool uniform into a little white T-shirt, gray shorts, sneakers, and blue sunglasses sitting crooked on his face because one of his ears had apparently decided not to cooperate with fashion. His black fringe fell over his forehead, his cheeks were round and red, and he was standing half inside the red car with one hand raised.Behind him was a small gang he had apparently managed to recruit in less than an hour.A neighbor girl sat on a pink scooter wearing a unicorn helmet, looking extremely serious for someone whose vehicle had glitter on it. A little boy on a balance bike was holding an orange cone

mean boss

I opened the fridge and pulled out chicken, cilantro, limes, tomatoes, avocado, cheese, and the leftover arepa dough. Then baby potatoes, sweet corn, and the glass bowl of hogao I’d managed to save from Saba last night before he claimed it as an academic right.“DON’T TOUCH THE LAVA!” Aiden yelled outside.I sliced a tomato. “Don’t touch the lavender, pequeño tyrant,” I muttered.The knife moved quickly over the cutting board. Tomatoes, onions, cilantro. The kitchen slowly went from an arena for bad thoughts to a place I could control. Oil heated in a pan. Garlic went in. The smell rose, soft and sharp, soothing in the way only Colombian food and threats from Mama over the phone could be.I seasoned the chicken with salt, lime, garlic, a little cumin, then laid it in the pan until the hiss filled the kitchen. Through the window, I saw Rhysand holding one of the cones now.Aiden gave a tiny clap.I immediately looked back at the chicken.No.I was not going to stand in my kitchen weari

a man, a toddler, and my last nerve

I looked at Aiden.Aiden looked back at me from Rhysand’s shoulder with wet eyes, flushed cheeks, and a little face that looked far too much like the man holding him.Rhysand didn’t say anything. Because if he offered right away, I might grab one of the orange cones and turn it into a legal instrument.“Elma can give you a bath,” I said.Aiden shook his head. His lower lip pushed out again. “Uncle Car.”“Uncle Car does not work at a spa.”“I don’t want water.”“Water isn’t asking for your opinion.”“I want Uncle Car.”Rhysand finally looked at me.Not with an obvious request. Not with some tiny victory. Not like a man who knew my son had just handed him an invitation to step farther into a space I hadn’t opened yet.He just looked at me.Waiting.Again.Damn him and this character development I never asked for.I closed my eyes for a second. In the kitchen, the little timer went off. My chicken was probably fine. I wasn’t. But clearly the chicken had priorities.“Five minutes,” I said

all this over five bites

I picked up the avocado and cut it in half.Upstairs, the sound of the water changed. Aiden wasn’t crying anymore. Now he was rambling, softer, broken up, the kind of tired-kid commentary that meant he had surrendered but still wanted the world to know he had opinions.“Don’t get it in my eyes.”“I won’t.”“If it gets in my eyes, I’ll be sad.”“I know.”“And Mami will be mad.”“I know that too.”“And Elmo says bad words.”“Elma.”“Yeah, Elmo.”I smiled at the avocado.Damn it.This was dangerous.Not because Rhysand flirted with me. I could handle that. The man could stand too close, smile too slowly, speak in a voice that made normal women forget their email passwords, and I could still save myself with sarcasm and a pair of expensive heels.This was the dangerous part.The sound of running water in my son’s bathroom.Aiden letting that man wash his hair.Rhysand not sounding awkward, not sounding annoyed, not sounding like he was performing the role of a good man because he wanted s

a place at the table, regrettably

Lunch was supposed to be quick.Supposed to be.Usually, after a bath and a tantrum, Aiden would eat five bites, ask for strawberries, then turn into a small pillow with legs. But now he stayed at the table longer because Rhysand was sitting across from him, and apparently my son considered Uncle Car’s presence at lunch an important social event.“Uncle Car,” he said, pointing at Rhysand’s plate with his little fork. “You finished?”Rhysand looked at his plate. Completely clean.No rice. No leftover chicken. Not a trace of hogao remained to testify. Even the lime wedge looked like it had been squeezed until it suffered minor trauma.“Wow,” I said. “You eat like you were just rescued from a deserted island.”“I was hungry.” He leaned back in his chair, far too relaxed for a man who had just wiped my lunch plate clean with the moral standards of a predator.“Where did you come from? The Crusades?”“Your driveway has harsh working conditions.”“Aiden asked you to hold a cone.”“The cone

all rise for bad decisions

The house became too quiet.It was strange how a house that had been full of Aiden’s voice, dishes, running water, and little bursts of laughter just minutes ago could suddenly feel like someone had turned off the music in a ballroom. The ocean was still moving beyond the glass. The dishwasher hadn’t started yet. The air-conditioning hummed softly. But between all those small sounds, there was one enormous silence sitting in the middle of the kitchen like an uninvited guest.I went in first and immediately started clearing the plates from the table.Rhysand picked up two bowls before I could stop him.“Leave them,” I said.He carried the bowls to the sink. “No.”“You don’t have to wash dishes to prove something.”“I’m not proving anything.” He set the bowls in the sink, then picked up Aiden’s plate, which still had a few grains of rice stuck to the edge. “I’m stalling before you kick me out.”I stopped with a plate in my hand.At least he was honest. Extremely annoying when handsome m

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