Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 71: Chapter 71

FELIX
I stood by the sleek black SUV, watching as Maria descended from the private jet. She clutched a small bag and a pet carrier, her face crumpling for just a moment before she pulled herself together when our eyes met.
“Maria,” I said, taking the bag from her trembling hand. I kept my voice steady, though my chest burned with the weight of everything unsaid. “I’ve got this.”
She let go with fingers that trembled against mine, forcing a thin smile. “Gracias, Felix,” she whispered, her voice frayed at the edges.
After helping her into the car, I hesitated, my hand lingering on the door. The weight of it all pressed against my chest, Dante’s struggle, my own helplessness clawing at me from inside. I exhaled slowly, then slid behind the wheel.
Maria glanced over, her gaze softer now. “And… Dante? How’s he handling all of this?”
My fingers tightened around the wheel. “It’s… challenging for him,” I said, keeping my voice low. “He’s pulled back, grappling with uncertainty. Not like him at all.” The words stung. Dante wasn’t meant to unravel.
Maria frowned, twisting a tissue in her lap. “It’s to be expected. It’s so much to take in.”
I kept my gaze pinned on the road ahead. “Yes, but for Dante, it’s worse. He’s not used to doubt.” Admitting that dug something sharp in my gut. He wasn’t supposed to break. Not him.
I glanced at Maria, catching the restless way her fingers fidgeted. “Seeing her again will be hard, but we can’t let it show. Marisol’s built a new life, blind to what came before.”
Her voice wavered, tangled between hope and grief. “But she’s alive, Felix. How can we keep silent?”
I softened my tone, but resolve hardened beneath it. “Her safety comes first. Even if it costs us the truth. Dante’s counting on us.”
Maria nodded, her expression tightening. “I’ll do what’s necessary. For her… and for Luz.”
The rest of the drive slipped by in heavy silence. When we reached the towering gates of the mansion, Maria gasped at the sheer opulence of it all. I told her about Marisol’s life now. How fame had rewritten her story. The truth hung between us like fog.
As we stepped from the car, distant laughter floated from somewhere deep inside the mansion. The sound hit harder than it should have, a cruel reminder of how far we’d come, and how far we still had to go.
DANTE
Marisol and Luzie sat on the floor by the coffee table, coloring together, their heads bent close as they giggled over their shared artwork. The sight of them, so relaxed and joyful, punched a hollow ache through my chest. They hadn’t noticed me or Maria yet.
I stepped up quietly beside Maria, keeping my voice low as I leaned in. “Remember, Maria, she doesn’t remember us.”
Maria gave a small nod, swallowing hard. Her gaze stayed locked on Marisol, so close, yet impossibly far.
I took the carrier from Felix without a word and carefully unlatched the door. Mr. Buttons had been sitting quietly, alert but subdued. The moment the latch clicked, he perked up, ears twitching. I lifted him into my arms, cradling him with more tenderness than I expected. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this little dog until now. But what happened next caught me completely off guard.
Mr. Buttons whimpered, his small body trembling against me, overtaken by some emotion too big for him to hold. Before I could react, he wriggled free, launching himself to the floor with a soft thud. His tiny paws scrabbled frantically as he made a beeline for Marisol, his cries sharpening with every desperate step.
Maria, Felix, and I gasped at the same time, rooted by the rawness of the moment.
Marisol’s head jerked up at the commotion just as Mr. Buttons hurled himself into her lap. His whole body shook uncontrollably as he scrabbled at her, burying his face against her chest, crying with this gut-wrenching, broken little sound that shredded what was left of my composure.
For a moment, Marisol just sat there, stunned. Staring down at him like she couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening. Her hands moved instinctively, gathering him close, her arms curling protectively around his trembling frame. Tears welled in her eyes as she cradled him, feeling the frantic thud of his tiny heart against her chest.
He remembers her. Every second she’s forgotten, he remembers.
“Shh, it’s okay, buddy,” she whispered, her voice catching. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
But Mr. Buttons couldn’t be soothed. His cries grew louder, more frantic, as if he were trying to pour years of loneliness and longing straight into her skin. He licked her face in desperate, frantic swipes, his whines echoing in the stillness of the room. Each sound cut deeper, dragged me further into the wreck of this moment.
Tears spilled over Marisol’s cheeks as she clutched him tighter, rocking him gently like she was trying to comfort them both. She didn’t understand it, but the connection between them was undeniable, fierce, something deeper than memory could reach. Instinct. Love. Whatever it was, it bound them, no matter what time had stolen.
Luzie, wide-eyed but sensitive to the weight of the moment, reached out to pat Mr. Buttons’ back with a soft little hand. “It’s okay, doggie,” she said quietly. “We’re here.”
My chest tightened. Watching her cradle that dog, you’d never know she didn’t remember a damn thing. Yet somewhere in her, something recognized the love. I glanced at Maria, her tears streaming unchecked as she pressed trembling hands to her mouth, trying to hold back her sobs.
Even Felix, usually carved from stone, had softened. His gaze clung to Marisol with a quiet sorrow, sympathy etched deep across his features. None of us had expected this, a reunion screamed through fur, tears, and trembling paws. Mr. Buttons remembered every second. Every feeling. Every loss. And now he was pouring it all into her arms.
Marisol rocked him gently, her tears falling freely now as his cries softened into fragile whimpers. She didn’t speak, just let the moment bleed through her, too overwhelmed to name what she was feeling. Some bond had broken through the fog. A connection she couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny.
Her hands soothed his trembling fur until he began to quiet, curling closer, his tiny body pressed into her warmth like he’d finally found home again.
“Who do you belong to?” she murmured, her voice soft, affectionate. “Are you lost?”
I stepped forward, finally pulling myself from where I’d been standing frozen. I lowered onto the sofa across from her, my heart thudding loud in my chest. “He’s mine,” I said, letting her see the tenderness I couldn’t keep buried. “I had Maria bring him. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” she said quickly, her hand stroking Mr. Buttons’ fur with careful affection. Her gaze softened as she looked down at him, now fully relaxed, eyes half-closed in contentment. “I’ve never met such an emotional little guy.”
She smiled. Then something in her softened further, a crack opening beneath the hurt she didn’t even understand. She bent closer to the dog, cooing in that playful, baby voice, her affection obvious. “You’re so different from your Daddy, yes you are. Such a sweet cutie. Not all cold and mean like him, huh?”
I pressed my lips into a hard, thin line. The jab wasn’t lost on me. Still pissed about the alarm stunt, then. Fair enough. I swallowed the urge to snap something back.
Luzie, wide-eyed and still taking it all in, leaned forward. “What’s his name?”
I let a small smile pull at the corner of my mouth, something rare and rusty. “This is Mr. Buttons.”
Luzie giggled, light and easy, and Marisol looked up at me, her eyes shining now with amusement. Laughter bubbled out of her, real and bright, catching me off guard. I hadn’t heard that sound in years.
“Such a big, tough man giving such a cute little dog such a soft, silly name,” she teased, still laughing as she cradled Mr. Buttons. “What was your daddy thinking, huh?” she murmured to the dog.
Mr. Buttons answered by snuggling deeper into her lap, tail giving a lazy wag. Marisol’s laughter faded into a smile, soft and content, her fingers trailing gentle strokes through his fur. I watched something shift in her, a warmth, a peace.
“I don’t know why, but I don’t want to let him go,” she said with a quiet laugh, wiping her tears. “And I don’t know why I’m crying.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Not like this. Laughing. Crying. Holding on to something she didn’t even know she’d lost. Somewhere in there, the woman I loved was still reaching for me. For us. For this.
For the first time in too long, I let myself believe.