After the conversation with Teresa, I watched him at night while he slept. Towards the end of my pregnancy, I could not sleep anyway. He never stirred in his sleep, and he looked more peaceful than he did awake, but when one of us needed him the most, he kept guard.
I’d decided that consciences came in all different ways and in different forms. His happened to speak the loudest when he could see the difference between his world and ours, and how far he was away when he could compare the distance.
I knew who my husband was. I knew it the moment I looked at him. The moment I fell in love with him. The moment I married him—the moment of moments—and promised him forever.
I knew who my husband was.
That was why I fought a battle he could not see. If he became lost in a dangerous obsession that he could not let go of, I knew I would lose him to it.
He had enough wars to fight. The one with the mysterious man bothered me the most.
It was not about business, but something personal. I could see it in his eyes when he was alone for long periods of time, with too much time to think. How he could not let the idea of it go, especially since the man seemed to be playing games with him.
Corrado Capitani was not used to losing.
Neither was I.
I’d be damned if I lost him to anything other than natural causes when he was old and tired.
I was capable of doing all of the things my husband did on the streets. The difference between us: I would only do them for love. He did them forthefamily and obligations. It was almost instilled in him. He was a product ofthe life, as they called it.
Love is not a weakness; it is the greatest weapon of all. I reached inside of the pocket of my dress and touched the rosary there, knowing just how strong I was. What I would risk for love.
The life I had fought so hard to have—this was it. It was my husband and my daughter.La mia famiglia.
A soft, warm hand touched my shoulder, and I smiled, putting my hand over hers. “She’s a good sleeper,”mammawhispered.
Corrado had arranged formammaand Anna to be here when Eleonora was born. We were going to take her to meet hernonnoat the end of summer, when we flew back withmammaand Anna.
“Like me,” Anna said, peeking over my shoulder. “She is exactly like me.”
The three of us hovered around her door, watching Corrado hold her while she slept. She had a bed in our room, but sometimes he brought her to her room to rock her to sleep after her bath.
“What is it about that kind of man holding a baby that is so sexy?” Anna whispered.
I grinned. “It is.”
Mammapinched Anna and she laughed quietly. “It is,mamma!”
“I am not disagreeing, but don’t give her—” she nodded at me “—any ideas. She has to give Ele some time to be the baby. Look at her. She’s bedazzled.”
Anna and I looked at each other and started laughing, trying to keep our voices down.
“Mamma mia!” Anna shook her head. “It’sdazzled. Notbedazzled.”
“What is the difference, smarty pants?”
“Dazzled is when you are bewitched. Bedazzled is what you do to clothes.” Anna started to walk toward the stairs. “Who is up for cards tonight? Since the hot man has the adorable baby.”
At home, sometimes we would stay up all night and play cards. We would put on a pot of coffee and some music, eat sweets, and laugh. Sometimes Anna and I would play with a few cousins, andmammawould sit and listen to us while she crocheted.
“You need a dictionary, Anna,”mammasaid, kissing me on the cheek. “Bedazzled is correct.” Then she waved her hand. “I’m tired. We can play tomorrow.”
“Same for me,” I said.
Anna touched her nose and then pulled her finger away, like her nose was growing. “Bugiarda,” she mouthed at me.Liar. “There are so many people in thiscastello,I am sure I can make some easy money. They won’t see me coming. I’m so sweet looking.”
Corrado looked at me when I opened the door the entire way and shut it behind me. Ele’s head was against his chest, her mouth open. I ran my hand through her hair, the little she had of it.
