Page 138 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“Looking forward to it.”

The grill spins into a familiar rhythm of sizzling, flipping, and smoke curling up in slow ribbons that blur the edge of the yard.

For a moment, it almost feels like something I can stand in without thinking too hard.

Atelia is saying something behind me, something about how I’ve over-seasoned the chicken like I’m trying to impress a panel of judges instead of feeding three people, when Enzo clears his throat.

I know what that sound means. Still, my hand pauses mid-motion, tongs hovering just above the grill like I’ve forgotten what I was doing.

“Don’t burn it,” Atelia mutters under her breath.

I ignore her, then I look up.

And there they are.

Christine is standing at the edge of the yard, her hand loosely wrapped around Blue’s, her posture firm in that way that looks calm but isn’t. Her gaze finds mine almost instantly, then flicks away like she refuses to let it linger.

Blue doesn’t. The moment she sees me, she lets go of Christine’s hand, hurtling towards me.

“Robert!” She calls with a bright voice that feels like a lightbulb turning on in my chest.

She’s running to me in that uncoordinated way kids are when they don’t think about falling.

I straighten before I even realize I’m moving, setting the tongs aside just in time to catch her as she collides into me.

Her arms wrap around my middle like she’s done it a hundred times.

I freeze for a second. Then my hands come down, settling carefully at her back, holding her close to where I’m trembling the most. My heart.

“Hey.” I soak the moment in, my voice coming out rougher than I intend.

She leans back immediately, tilting her head up to look at me like she’s inspecting something important.

“I miss you.” She announces with a sad face.

“I miss you too, my princess,” I reply, offering a smile that smoothes out her frown.

“Very much?” She asks, pouting.

“Very much.”

She nods once, satisfied with that.

Then her attention shifts, her gaze perches on Enzo. Her face lights up with curiosity.

“You look like a snowman!” The words burst out of her with zero hesitation, her finger pointing directly at his hair like she’s made a groundbreaking discovery.

Atelia chokes on her drink.

“Excuse me?” Enzo blinks slowly, looking mildly offended but mostly entertained.

Blue steps closer, squinting at him like she’s confirming her theory.

“Your hair,” she explains, very seriously. “You have white in it.”

“It’s silver,” Enzo corrects, brushing a hand over it like that changes anything.

“That’s what I said,” she shrugs.