“Will do. Thanks, Viktor.”
After he leaves, I sit alone in my office for a moment, looking around at the space that once represented everything I was. The walls that held maps of territories and grudges, plans for revenge and expansion. Now they hold pictures—Gigi and Marco at the beach last summer, our wedding photo, an ultrasound image of the baby girl we’re expecting in four weeks.
My phone has a reminder set for story time with Marco in thirty minutes.
This is my life now. Conference calls and dinner with my family. Bedtime stories and prenatal appointments. The ordinary, beautiful chaos of an ordinary existence.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I find them in the garden again. Marco is showing Gigi a caterpillar he found, explaining very seriously that this one needs to go to the clinic too because, “He looks sad, Mommy.”
Gigi is listening with absolute attention, like his rambling toddler observations are the most important thing in the world. When she sees me approaching, she smiles that smile that still makes my heart stutter.
“Meeting done?” she asks.
“Meeting done.” I drop a kiss on her lips then crouch down to Marco’s level. “Hey, buddy. Want to show me that caterpillar?”
He carefully transfers the caterpillar to my hand, his little face so serious. “You have to be gentle, Daddy. He’s very small.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise, studying the caterpillar with appropriate gravitas. “You know what? I think your mother is right. He does look like he could use some help.”
“See?” Marco looks triumphant, looking so much like his namesake it takes my breath away. “I told you, Mommy!”
Gigi laughs, the sound bright and free. “You were absolutely right, sweet boy. Should we take him to the clinic?”
“Yes! And then can we have dinner? I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” Gigi ruffles his hair. “You’re growing too fast.”
We walk together toward the clinic—Gigi waddling slightly with her pregnant belly, Marco running ahead, me following behind with a caterpillar cupped in my hands. It’s absurd and domestic and so far from the life I thought I’d have.
Marco stops suddenly and runs back to me. “Daddy?”
I look down at him. “Yeah, buddy?”
“When the baby comes, can she help me take care of the animals? Can she be my ‘sistant?”
My throat tightens. “Assistant. And yeah, when she’s big enough, I bet she’d love that.”
“Good.” He nods decisively. “Because Mommy says we have to take care of things that are smaller than us. That’s what family does.”
I look at Gigi, and there are tears in her eyes.
“That’s exactly right, Marco,” I tell him, my own voice rough. “Family takes care of each other. Always.”
He grins and runs ahead again, and Gigi slips her hand into mine.
“He’s going to be such a good big brother,” she says softly.
“He learned from the best.” I pull her close, careful of her belly. “You’re raising him to be everything I wasn’t at his age. Everything I wish I had been.”
“First off,we’reraising him. And second, you’re everything he needs you to be now,” she corrects. “That’s what matters.”
I think about the journey that brought us here. The revenge that consumed me. The darkness that nearly destroyed us both. The slow, painful process of learning how to love instead of hurt.
Marco will never know that world. He’ll grow up in a home where healing is valued over hurting, where problems are solved with words instead of violence, and where love is given freely instead of earned through fear.
The cycle ends here. With this family built on choice rather than obligation. With a wife who chose me even when she didn’t have to. With a son who believes his mother can fix anything and his father will always protect him.
