She was pregnant.
The truth of it hit me square in the chest, and for a second, I felt like I was fucking glowing too.
Outside of medical questions, though, we hadn’t discussed it.
I was back to fucking cold.
I showed my wife into her new home, and after Mamma got her settled at the table, feeding her, I went outside and grabbed her bags. She didn’t have much. The rest of her things would be sent from Venice. Her father said he was going to personally take care of it himself. I told him ifthe other Cappello daughterripped one fiber from my wife’s things, thewrongCapella daughter’sthings would be set on fire. Their entire palazzowould be.
I’d be the one holding the gas can and match—the somewhat sane daughter’s husband.
My wife was feisty—no fucking doubt.
A grin came to my face at that, then I looked down at her small rolling suitcase, and my heart broke for some fucking reason. Like my wife having a small suitcase was somehow linked to her happiness.
My fists tightened and released. Tightened and released.
It was like I was the one knocked up and on an emotional roller coaster.
“Fuck me sideways.” I sighed, rubbing the spot over my heart.
My old man roared with laughter. My eyes snapped to his, and I blinked at him. He shook his head, squeezing my shoulder. “You got the love lumps, son.”
“The fucking lumps and bruises,” I said.
He started laughing so hard, the sound of it became raspy. “You know you fucking got it bad when you start talking to yourself,” he said and kept laughing.
Apparently, my misery was his humor.
“What’s so funny?” My sister walked up, Rio right behind her. My sister always smiled when our old man would either smile or laugh. The women thought it was just…a melting fucking experience. They would sigh and smile.
I shook my head. My old man might not have had a way with feelings, or expressing them, but he was smart when it came to the women of the family. He had them just where he wanted them, eating out of the palm of his massive hand.
“Me,” I said, taking Graziana Margherita from my sister.
Graziana was the newest addition to our family, my sister and Rio’s third child. They had two sons, who my old man swooped up when they went running for the dogs. He had each one upside down, making them crack up. Brando and Vittorio, twins named after my old man and Rio’s old man, who everyone called Mac.
My sister gave me a big hug. “It’s so good to see you have the lumps.” She smiled at me.
Rio started laughing, throwing the ball to Zeus. “We’re all there. It doesn’t fade.” He winked at my sister.
She exploded with laughter. “I’m hungry! I smell Mamma’s famous lemon chicken soup. That’ll do Sistine good! Ohhhh…” She scented the air. “That smells like steaks too! Mamma probably made those for the men.” My sister made a growling noise, like she was speaking for the men, and Rio looked at her like he fell in love for the umpteenth time in his life.
At least I wasn’t fucking alone.
“How’s Matteo?” I asked my sister as my old man and Rio went in ahead of us.
“You want me to take her?” My sister held out her arms for my niece.
“No,” I said at the same time Graziana turned her face away. My niece liked to poke me in the eyeball and stick her chubby little digits in my mouth. She liked when I pretended to eat them.
My sister stopped and stuck her hands on her hips. She razzed at my niece. “You little traitor! I carried you for nine months, and this is the thanks I get?”
Graziana cracked up. A real belly laugh that made me grin. I gave her fat smooches on her cheeks, and she laughed even harder.
“At least let me roll the suitcase,” she said, trying to take it from me.
I moved it out of her reach. “You insult my strength. I can handle this beautifulbambinaand my wife’s measly suitcase.”
