Adalina holds his hand, while the boys walk in front of him.
For a moment, watching them approach, I can almost pretend we're a normal family.
"Mama!" Adalina breaks away first, racing toward me with her pink coat flapping behind her.
Rocco and Elio follow, their boots kicking up little puffs of snow.
"Did you see us? Did you see us come in?" Rocco calls.
I bend down, three excited bodies colliding with mine. "I did! You all look like you had fun last night."
"Daddy has a playroom!" Elio announces, eyes wide.
"And we made pancakes," Adalina adds, her little mittened hands framing my face. "Daddy put chocolate chips in mine that looked like a smiley face."
"Is that right?" I glance up at Luca who's now standing a few feet away, watching us with an expression I can't quite read.
Pride? Longing? Anger still simmering beneath the surface?
"And guess what?" Rocco leans in conspiratorially. "We all slept in Daddy's big bed because the house makes funny noises."
"It's just old," Luca says. "Like me."
The kids giggle, and despite everything between us, I smile too.
"You're not old," Adalina declares, returning to hug his leg. "You're just a daddy."
Something passes between Luca and me then.
It’s like a shared moment of wonder at these incredible little people we created.
The triplets tug at both of us now, eager to explore the festival, temporarily bridging the chasm between their parents with their innocent excitement.
I follow my children as they lead us through the festival.
We form an awkward procession, not quite together, not quite apart, connected only by the three excited children bouncing between us.
"Look, Mommy and Daddy!" Adalina points to a booth selling handcrafted knitted animal hats. “Can we get one? I want the panda.”
“Of course.” His expression is soft and sweet toward the kids. It's only when he looks at me that the ice returns.
As the kids examine the hats, Luca stands beside me, close enough that I can inhale his scent, making me wish I could lean into him and feel his warmth.
"They seem happy," he says quietly.
"They are. They've always wanted you, even when they didn't know who you were."
His jaw tightens. "Don't."
I fall silent, feeling chastised. I want him to know how I’ve struggled with my secret for so long. That my guilt isn’t just because I’ve been caught.
From behind us, I hear Marco's distinctive laugh.
Turning slightly, I catch sight of him with Gabriella and several other La Corona members, their eyes occasionally flicking toward our makeshift family scene.
Gabriella’s gaze is on me, and the coolness tells me she knows about the kids.
Of course she does.
