“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “So incredibly proud. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
“You think so?” I ask, my own tears threatening now as I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. The relief I feel is palpable.
“I know so.” He pulls back to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have started to fall. “You’re going to love this baby the way I love you—completely, unconditionally, with everything you have.”
“Dad,” I choke out, my cheeks flaming, but he’s not finished.
“You’re going to protect this child and teach them and guide them into becoming exactly who they’re meant to be.” His voice is getting stronger, more certain. “And Alessandro’s going to be right there beside you, being the kind of father every child deserves.”
I glance over at Alessandro, who’s managed to calm the twins down and is now watching our emotional moment with a delighted smile.
When he catches me looking, he mouths, “I love you,” and the pure joy on his face makes my heart feel like it might burst.
“How far along?” Bella finally gets her own tears under control enough to speak coherently. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but her smile is so wide I’m afraid her cheeks are going to split.
“Eight weeks,” I tell her, settling back into the chair with Arianna returning to her position on my lap.
She’s stopped crying and is now patting my face like she’s checking to make sure I’m okay.
“Banca sad?” she asks with the serious concern that only toddlers can manage.
“No, baby,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smelling her sweet baby smell. “Banca’s happy. Very,veryhappy.”
“Happy tears,” Giovanni observes wisely from his position next to Alessandro, still clearly unsure if there will be another outburst.
“That’s right,” Alessandro confirms, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Sometimes people cry when they’re really happy.”
“Baby?” Arianna asks suddenly, her little face lighting up with understanding. “Banca have baby?”
“Yes,” I laugh, amazed by how quickly she put it together. “Banca’s going to have a baby.”
“Baby brother!” she announces decisively.
“Or baby sister,” Bella corrects gently.
“No,” Arianna says with the absolute certainty that only two-year-olds possess. “Baby brother. Like Giovanni.”
“No!” Giovanni pipes up, a scowl on his face that looks so much like Matteo I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t want baby brother!”
“We’ll see,” I tell Arianna and Giovanni, secretly hoping that Arianna’s right. The idea of having a little boy who looks like Alessandro makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“When?” Dad asks, settling back into his chair with Giovanni climbing onto his lap. Dad wraps an arm around Giovanni’s middle and presses a kiss to the boy’s head.
“April,” Alessandro answers. “Right after finals, if everything goes according to schedule.”
Dad snorts, rolling his eyes. “Of course you planned it around the academic calendar. Heaven forbid pregnancy interfere with your education.”
“Hey, you’re the one who insisted I finish college,” I point out, remembering the fit Dad threw when we planned the wedding. He had beeninsistentit was after final exams so I could keep my focus. “I’m just being efficient.”
“You’re being incredible,” Alessandro corrects, reaching over to take my free hand. “Balancing school and family business and now this? I don’t know how you do it.”
I don’t always know either. Some days I feel like I’m juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle.
But looking around this room—at Dad’s proud face, at Bella’s continued tears of joy, at the twins chattering excitedly, at Alessandro’s love—I know it’s all worth it.
This is what I’ve been building toward. Not just the marriage or the alliance or the business empire, but this moment.
This feeling of being completely surrounded by love and knowing that the child growing inside me will be born into something precious and permanent.
