The penthouse has never felt this full. Toys we didn’t own yesterday have multiplied on the living room rug. Someone put corner guards on the marble coffee table. There are throw blankets in animal shapes. A step stool appeared in the guest bath like it grew there. My cousins cannot arrive without turning a place into a home, and I don’t know how to thank them enough for it without embarrassing us all.
Raf is on the floor helping Livia build a city out of magnetic tiles while Bella narrates the construction like a documentary. “Observe the rare Ferrara engineer in his natural habitat.” Livia cackles and hands Raf a triangle. He tries to wear it as a hat. The hat collapses and so does she in a fit of giggles.
Serena and Antonio claim the end of the couch, fingers laced, eyes bright with secrets only people a week away from their wedding understand. Alessia is in the kitchen with Rory, raiding the pastry boxes and arguing about whether a four-month bump entitles Rory to the last cannoli. My cousin’s wife has neverlooked more beautiful. Alessandro hovers with a hand on her back as if her spine is precious metal.
Livia races to the kitchen when she catches sight of the cookies, abandoning her construction project, and studies Rory’s belly like a problem to solve. “Is there really a baby in there?”
Rory sets a palm over the curve and smiles. “There is. She kicks when yourpapàtalks too loud.”
“Lies,” I call out. “The baby likes my voice. He protests your cannoli theft.”
“Traitor,” Rory whispers to her bump, then looks at Livia again. “You can feel her if you like.”
Livia reaches out, hesitant, and then giggles when the ripple moves under her fingers. Her eyes fly to mine, huge and stunned. I cannot breathe for a second. There is a look children get standing in front of the ocean for the first time and she has it now, hearing a cousin knock from inside another world.
I stride closer, then crouch down beside her. “That’s your baby cousin. She’ll be here soon and you’ll have a new friend to play with.”
She nods, thoughtful, then beams at Cat. “I want a baby sister.”
The room goes quiet the way rooms do when a small voice says a big thing. My gaze swings to Cat’s. Blue meets green across the marble tiles and the cousins and the whole complicated history. Heat skates under my ribs. She looks away first, cheeks pink, mouth curved at the edges. I lean in and keep my tone for Livia but let it carry. “Your mammy has to agree to marry me first.”
Livia gasps like I just offered to buy her the moon. She spins on the rug, copper ringlets flying, and plants her fists on her hips to address the adults like a tiny general. “Oh please, Mammy, marryPapà.”
Then she cocks her head over her shoulder and eyes me again. “Where’s the ring, Matty?”
Now it’s my turn to blush. I scrub my palm across the back of my neck. “I haven’t found the perfect one just yet.” I’ve wanted to marry Cat since the first day I saw her on that sun-soaked beach. But after everything she’s been through, she’s made it clear that she needs time. I’m willing to wait forever if that’s what it takes.
Cat’s laugh turns into a soft little sound that would have wrecked me even before Sicily. She crosses the room and kneels, so they are eye level. “IfPapàasks me the right way at the right time, maybe I’ll say yes. Eventually.” Her eyes are on our daughter but aimed at me. It’s a challenge and a promise in one breath.
Serena throws up both hands. “No stealing my thunder, asshole. First Alessandro and now you? I’m getting married first. One week. Then you get your chance.”
“Sere,” Alessia calls from the kitchen, “you have been planning this wedding since you were five. No one could steal your thunder with a crowbar.”
“She’s not wrong,amorè,” Antonio adds, grinning. “Also, I refuse to compete. I am barely keeping up as it is.”
On the floor, Raf sets another triangle on the tower, and it holds. “The solution is obvious. A double wedding.”
“Absolutely not,” three female voices say at once. Bella throws a cushion at him. “Do not encourage chaos unless you are prepared to decorate for it.”
Ale drops onto the armchair with a sigh that’s mostly content and a sliver of relief. He looks at me for a long second, the kind of look that says we have fought too many fires and somehow still found a way to sit down together. “You moved back just in time for the circus,” he says. “And for my daughter to have an uncle who takes her to Sicily in the summertime.”
“I’ve already booked the flights and the house.” I smirk. “One has a lemon tree in the backyard. Livia approved.”
“I can’t wait. I love lemonade.” She’s back on the floor beside Bella and Raf. She replies easily without looking up from her tower.
“The lemonade is non-negotiable,” Rory declares, licking powdered sugar from her thumb. She eyes Cat with that quiet knowing she carries. “How are you holding up?”
Cat stands to steal a cannoli half from Alessia with impossible speed. “I am standing in a room that finally feels like family. It’s something I didn’t know I’d been missing.” Her voice gentles. “That’s more than I had yesterday.”
I want to kiss her for that. So I do. It’s a quick, chaste kiss to the top of her head, but I fold the feeling and stow it behind my ribs for later.
“I know exactly how you feel, lass.” Rory gives her a warm smile. They’ve already become fast friends.
Alessia flips open another pastry box. “Livia, how do you feel about New York pigeons?”
Livia considers the question gravely. “They need lessons on how to behave.”
“Matteo will draw up a curriculum,” Bella announces. “Module one: not walking like they own the sidewalk.”
