“Boo!” This was what she said instead of blue. It was her favorite color at the moment. “Boo, Papà,boo!”
Capo righted her, and she pulled his face closer to hers, squeezing him so tight that her eyes scrunched.
Anytime I took my rings off, he made an appearance not long after. It was strange, like he was waiting for me to lose them so he could give them back.
“Where are the boys?” I asked.
Saverio was our oldest. Salvatore was our second. Evelina was our third. And coming up as the caboose was our baby, Renzo. He was three, and if anyone called him a baby out loud, he furrowed his eyebrows and pulled Capo’sI’m severely pissedface.
Capo narrowed his eyes at me, noticing how breathless I sounded, before he glanced down at my hands. “Saverio took Salvatore and Renzo to meet the Faustis. TheZiewalked with them.” He watched me for a second longer before he nodded behind him, wordlessly telling me to follow him out.
Over the years, the need for words between us became less and less, because sometimes his voice became lower and lower. His actions were always louder than his words.
He took my hand when I was close enough, pulling my wrist up to his mouth, setting his lips over my pulse. He glanced down at my rings again. This time it seemed like he was checking to make sure that their positions were right. Again,strange.
“Kiss me dere, too.” Evelina gave him her wrist, more like set it against his mouth, and he planted a loud smooch over her pulse. “I your princess, Papà.”
“You are my princess.Per sempre.”
As soon as we were out in the garden, he set Evelina down, letting her run free. She went straight to one of the sugar-water stations we’d set up, watching as a few butterflies stretched their wings in the evening air, soaking up the nectar and the golden sunlight. Even though Evelina was a zealous child in general, around the butterflies, she’d been taught to be quiet, to be kind, to respect them.
I stood back and admired all that my boys had done.
Butterfly lights were strung up over the table, from lemon tree to lemon tree, set and ready for over twenty people, and soft music played in the background—what Saverio called “old people” music. How the times had changed. If I was old, my husband was ancient, and he didn’t like it any more than I did when our children called us out on it.
The garden we’d planted withNonnowas never as beautiful as it was in that moment. The colors exploded in the evening light, and butterflies were in constant motion, enjoying all of the safe places.
Roots. They had roots here. Just like I did. And whenever the chance presented itself, we told our children stories of the man who had showed us how to plant and nurture them. Each of our children knew the story of the wolf and the butterfly better than we did.
I fiddled with my wedding rings, wishing, hoping the Faustis took their time getting to our area of the land. I had a hard time focusing on anyone, anything, other than my husband.
Time had been sweet to him. He had only grown more attractive over the years. He was as fit as ever, not an ounce of fat on his body, and any lines he gained only upped his “fine-ass mature man” factor. A few lines of gray streaked the sides of his black hair, a few streaks in his stubble caught the light and sparked silver, but it only made him seem wiser.
He still had his shit together.
He still made me feel safe.
He still made me breathless.
He still made my heart do wicked things and the butterflies in my stomach flutter madly.
He still made me want him, crave him, feel starved for him—every day, every night, sometimes every second of my life. The empty space he filled was never truly filled. The space only grew to accommodate a greater hunger. Satisfied but not fully satiated.
I still loved him, but it was not the same. I loved him even more, in all the different ways. My best friend. My lover. My heart. The father of my children. My king wolf. My boss. My everything.
With each passing day, our love only grew. Like the garden around us, our roots went deeper and deeper into a soil that would always welcome us home. Whatever it took, we did, to makeusright.
“If this isn’t what you want.” He took a step closer to me, and my breath caught in my throat. The lowering sun hit his eyes just right and reminded me of naked swims in the sea in summer, just the two of us, body sliding against body. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, Butterfly.”
“A little too late for regrets, isn’t it, Capo?” I took a step closer to him, running my hand along his chest, stopping at the scar around his throat.
“You got any of those, Esquire?”
He sometimes called me that. After Saverio was born, I went back to school and became a lawyer. I worked with Rocco, handling family business from time to time. I also donated my time to kids who were like I had been—needing help when the system failed them. I mostly wanted to take care of my children, but it was nice to have something for me on the outside, too.
“Regrets?” I shook my head. “Not a fucking one.”
We both turned to look. Evelina was in her own world. She was playing with her little outside fairy world. She whispered things to the fairies, not wanting to disturb the butterflies flittering around.
