Nina and I make the rounds, accepting congratulations and threats disguised as well-wishes (“You hurt her, I’ll kill you” seems to be the theme from her new girlfriends in the family).
Quinn hugs Nina so tight I'm worried she might crack a rib, while Paolo grins and claps me on the back. It’s still weird that they met at the aquarium months before any of us knew they’d end up family, but I’m glad Nina had someone she already trusted when I dragged her into this world.
“She’s good for you,” Lorenzo says when he corners me by the bar. “Keeps you grounded.”
“She keeps me from doing stupid shit,” I correct.
“Same thing.” He claps me on the shoulder.
When the DJ announces our first dance, I pull Nina onto the floor gratefully. Finally, a moment where it’s just us.
Except it’s not, because she’s watching Austin chase Dario’s twins around the edge of the dance floor, laughing like the healthy, normal kid he is now. The surgery worked perfectly. No more medications, no more restrictions. Just a scar on his chest that he thinks makes him look tough.
“I’m going to change his last name when I change mine,” Nina says, pulling my attention back to her. “We should all be DeLucas.”
An ache I can’t quite name rises up. Austin’s been calling me Dad for a while now, but making it legal, making us a real family on paper as well as in practice...
“Yeah?” I clear my throat.
“Yeah.” She smiles up at me. “We’re a package deal, remember? All or nothing.”
I spin her out and pull her back, earning approving noises from the Italian grandmothers who are judging everything about this reception.
“You know what we should do?” Nina says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We should buy that cabin by Lake Tahoe. The one we saw last month.”
“The one you said looked like a serial killer’s vacation home?”
“It has character,” she protests. “And Austin loved the tire swing.”
“Austin also loves gas station hot dogs. His judgment is questionable.”
She laughs, and the sound does something to my chest that should probably concern me. This is what my life is now—planning family vacations and arguing about real estate instead of wondering which Russian wants me dead this week.
The Bratva's been laying low since we hit their operation. War's not over, but they're too busy regrouping to cause us trouble lately.
“We could go there for holidays,” she continues. “Teach Austin to fish. Have actual family traditions that don’t involve someone getting shot at.”
“That’s setting the bar pretty high.”
“We’ll work our way up to it.”
The song ends, but I don’t let her go. Around us, other couples are joining us on the dance floor. Matteo’s sitting at a table looking uncomfortable with all the emotions, Luca’s hitting on anything in a dress, and my mother is watching us with a soft smile.
It’s a perfect moment, which should make me nervous. In my experience, perfect moments are just the universe setting you up for a sucker punch. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe you grab the perfect moments when you can, hold them tight, and deal with the sucker punches when they come.
“Hey,” Nina says, pulling my attention back to her. “Where’d you go?”
“Just thinking.”
“Dangerous habit.”
“Smart ass.”
She grins. “Yoursmart ass, now. Legal and everything.”
And fuck if that doesn’t sum up everything I never knew I wanted. Nina being mine, officially, permanently. Austin being my son in every way that matters. This family we’ve built from the ashes of our fucked-up childhoods.
My father walked away from this life because he couldn’t handle the weight of it. But standing here with Nina in my arms, watching our son terrorize the other kids with water guns someone foolishly provided, I realize he had it backwards.
