Millie elbows me gently. “I eat just fine, thank you.”
Mamma sighs, swatting me playfully. “Mio figlio, always so dramatic. You’d think we raised him in a cave.”
Papa shakes his head with a chuckle. “Gabriel’s dramatic, sure—but that’s because he cares.”
I glance at Millie, who’s settling Aura into her lap like she wasmade for this moment. Aura wakes a bit, and my niece and nephew, eyes wide with delight.
“Look at her!” Matteo says, reaching out to gently stroke Aura’s cheek.
Siena leans in, whispering to Millie, “She’s so soft. Like a real princess.”
Millie laughs, brushing back a stray curl. “She’s definitely the princess of this family.”
I crouch down beside them, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “You two are going to be the best big cousins she could ask for,” I say, and they both beam up at me.
Matteo grins. “Can I teach her how to build with Legos when she’s bigger?”
“And I can show her how to braid hair,” Siena adds, bouncing a little on her toes.
“You’re already making big promises,” I say, ruffling Matteo’s hair. “But I think she’s lucky to have you both.”
Siena tilts her head. “Uncle Gabe, were we this small when we were born?”
I chuckle. “Even smaller. Matteo used to fit right in the crook of my arm, like a football.”
“No way!” Matteo says, wide-eyed.
“Oh yeah,” I say, nodding solemnly. “And Siena—she screamed every time I tried to hold her.”
Siena gasps in mock offense. “I did not!”
Millie bites back a laugh. “You did, sweetie. We have video proof.”
Siena groans, hiding her face in my side. I hug her close and press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “Aura’s turn is coming.”
They both giggle, and for a moment, everything is still—the kind of still that only happens when you’re holding something precious.
Cruz walks in, flashing that cocky grin. “You must be Millie. I’m Cruz, the better-looking older brother.”
Millie laughs, shaking his hand with ease. “Nice to meet you, Cruz.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”
Cruz leans in, voice low and teasing. “You’re brave, showing up with this one. You must like a challenge.”
Elena appears, towel over her shoulder, flour dusting her hands. “Just ignore him. I’m Elena, his wife—the only thing keeping this family somewhat civilized.”
Millie shakes Elena’s hand, the ease between them clear. She belongs here.
The table erupts in conversation—talk about work, old family stories, and plans for the summer. Millie fits right in, effortlessly laughing at jokes and sharing little stories about the café back in Cherry Falls. I catch Papa watching her with a thoughtful smile.
“You’re a natural,” he says quietly, raising his glass toward her.
Millie smiles warmly, eyes meeting his with genuine respect. “Thank you, Luca. It means a lot.”
As the afternoon wears on, Papa leans back and begins to share a story, one of the few times his voice drops to a quieter, more nostalgic tone.
