“No, it’s fine. You have work.”
“Savannah, you’re allowed to ask for help.”
“I know. I just—” I watch Dante pull himself up on the coffee table. “I’m supposed to be able to do this. Be strong. Hold everything together while Ledger’s gone.”
“You are holding everything together. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.” His voice is gentle. “We’re family. Let us help.”
“Okay. Maybe tomorrow? If you’re free?”
“We’ll be there at ten. Elena loves spending time with Dante anyway.”
After we hang up, I sit on the floor watching my son explore his world with fearless curiosity. He’s so much like Ledger—dark hair, determined expression, complete confidence that he can conquer anything.
I miss my husband so much it physically hurts sometimes.
Dante’s first birthday party is small. Just me, Alexi, Elena, and Marie. We hang decorations in the living room—balloons, streamers, and a banner that saysHappy Birthday, Dante.
I make a cake. Chocolate with vanilla frosting. Dante’s favorite, though, at one year old, his favorite is really just anything with sugar.
We sing Happy Birthday. Dante stares at the single candle on his cake, mesmerized by the flame. When I blow it out for him, he cries, upset that the pretty light disappeared.
“Make a wish,” Elena says, cutting slices for everyone.
I already made my wish. The same one I’ve been making for the past year.
That Ledger comes home safe. That our family stays whole.
After the cake, Dante opens presents. A stuffed elephant from Alexi. Books from Elena. A wooden train set from Marie. He’s more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, tearing the colorful sheets into smaller and smaller pieces.
“He’s happy,” Alexi says, watching Dante laugh as paper flies everywhere.
“He is. But Ledger should be here.”
“I know.”
“Did you visit him this week?” I ask.
“Yeah. Wednesday. He’s doing okay. Says the time is going by faster than he expected. Keeps asking about you and Dante.”
“We’re visiting on Saturday. It’s been two weeks.”
“He misses you both. You can see it in his eyes.” Alexi helps me clean up wrapping paper. “But he’s proud of you. Keeps talking about how strong you are. How well you’re running things.”
“I’m not running anything. You’re running the businesses. I’m just trying to keep Dante alive and the house from falling apart.”
“You’re doing more than that. The legitimate businesses are thriving. You’ve been sitting in on board meetings, making decisions, and learning the operations. Dad notices. We all do.”
“I’m just trying to hold his place until he gets back.”
“You’re not holding his place. You’re building your own.” Alexi looks at me seriously. “When Dad comes home, he’s going to have a partner. Not just a wife who waited for him. An actual business partner who understands the empire.”
“I don’t know if that’s what he wants.”
“It’s exactly what he wants. Trust me.”
That night, after everyone leaves and Dante is asleep, I sit in the nursery and call Ledger. The prison allows one fifteen-minute phone call per week.
“Happy birthday to our boy,” he says when he answers.
