“And we’ll be four,” I replied, kissing her lips, then her neck. “Me. You. And two little terrors. Preferably a girl just like you.”
I’d smiled then… arrogant, careless. “If we fill the house with kids, I won’t even get to enjoy you like this.”
The memory is vivid, unkind in its clarity. One of the first days of our honeymoon. I’d blamed the cold to keep her in bed longer, blind to the fact that what she was asking for wasn’t a whim. It was a truth that never changed.
In the end, he gave her everything. The big family she dreamed of. More than four children. A life she once asked me for.
“Dad!”
Alicia’s voice cuts through the memory, pulling me back to the present.
I force a smile for my daughter. Alicia hugs me, then stretches up to kiss my cheek.
“Happy birthday again, old man,” she says with a grin. “Your hair’s getting whiter, huh?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Thank you, princess.”
“Happy birthday, Colin,” Ceci says.
I turn to find her standing at the top of the stairs, Alexander one step below, both children still balanced in his arms like hard-earned trophies.
“Happy birthday, Colin,” Alexander adds, his tone impersonal.
We haven’t become friends. We never will. But we dropped the last names a while ago. I’ll continue not liking him, and I know the feeling is mutual. But, for my kids, I swallow my pride.
“Thank you, Cecily. Alexander,” I say, acknowledging them both with a brief nod before turning to Alicia. “Shall we?”
She nods and steps toward her mother, pressing a kiss to Ceci’s cheek. She does the same with her siblings, then with Alexander, who sets the children down. Alessio laces his fingers with Stella’s—who is holding Ceci’s hand—and together they start down the steps.
Alexander rests a hand on Alicia’s shoulder.
“If you come back and we’re not home, just go over to Cesare’s, okay?”
“Sì, papà,”[LXXXII]she replies easily. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I can stay home alone too.”
Alexander laughs and shakes his head.
Whenever she calls him that—papà—something tightens in my chest. I know she doesn’t mean to hurt me. It’s just her new reality now. But it always stings. There was a time when that title belonged only to me.
I offer them one last nod, a small wave to the children, and follow Alicia toward my car.
“Your brother... he couldn’t make it in time?” I ask, glancing toward the front house where Ethan stays when he’s here, half-expecting to see his car.
“He said he’d meet us at the restaurant.”
I nod, relieved.
My relationship with Ethan was never the same after everything that happened. But gradually, it’s been rebuilt on new ground. We talk every week. And at least once a month, when he comes to see his mother and siblings, we have dinner together.
“Dad.”
I turn at the sound of his voice, a smile spreading across my face.
That’s another thing that changed. Two years ago, Ethan started calling me Dad again. And I will never take that for granted.
When he reaches me, he pulls me into a quick hug, punctuated by two firm pats on my back.
“Happy birthday,” he says with a grin. “If you keep up the same gym routine, you could easily pass for forty-eight.”
