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A smile spreads across Enzo’s face. “What comes next?”
“We should expand.” I shrug. “More kids out there deserve help and somewhere to go. They need someone to tell them they matter before the world tells them they don’t.”
When Enzo drifts off to rejoin Sophia, Lucia regards me with a hint of relief in her eyes. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right? Of the man you’ve become, the father you are, and the husband you never thought you could be.”
I kiss her, and Elena squirms between us, demanding inclusion. Her little hands push at our faces with the particular tyranny of a child who’s never had any doubt about her place in the world.
We chuckle and pull her between us. For a moment, the universe is exactly what it should be.
As the sun sets, the party winds down. Light shifts from gold to rose to the deep blue of evening. Guests thin slowly, the way good celebrations conclude with lingering handshakes, one last glass, and children scooped onto shoulders with sleepy protests until the building eases into the quiet that comes after a day well-lived.
I stand at the window, watching the last light fade over the rooftops. The city skyline catches the final glow of the day. This is our home now, a place we constructed for ourselves in a building that we own.
The third floor seems perfect. It has proper bedrooms with attached bathrooms that hold all of my woman’s vanities and a kitchen alcove that Lucia complains I splurged too much on, with a little false cabinet where I hide my whiskey.
A small garden window overlooks the east side, with chairs set in the corners. Lucia and Jenna sit out there until noon every weekend.
Lucia comes up behind me, her arms snaking around my waist and her cheek pressing into my back.
“Elena’s asleep.” Her voice is soft, tired, and content. “I washed the frosting off her cheeks, and she went down instantly, still kicking her feet. Dreaming, I think. Good dreams.”
I pivot, tug her close, and feel the weight of her against me. “I have a gift for you. I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out a small velvet box. She looks at it, then at me, her eyes curious and her brow furrowing.
“Marco, don’t tell me that’s another ring.”
“It’s not a ring.” I open the box to reveal the gold medal inside, inscribed with the name “Matteo Romano” and the date of his death. “The police department finished their investigation, and the feds have wrapped up too. This is Matteo’s. They wanted to honor him for his work and for the lives he saved.”
She stares at the medal, and for a heartbeat, she’s not breathing. She touches the inscription with trembling fingertips, as if it might vanish.
“He’s being recognized.” The words seem to catch in her throat. “Matteo’s going to be recognized. After all we went through… After all this time…”
“His bravery.” I hug her as she starts to sniffle. “His sacrifice. The avalanche he started brought down the trafficking ring and rescued those victims. I have a lot to thank him for too. He’s the reason we found each other.”
She pulls back, nods, and accepts the medal, clutching it in her hands. As she does, I see the girl who lost her brother and spent two years seeking justice. She never stopped fighting for the truth, even when everyone told her to let it go. It’s hard to still see her as the same woman who stitched me up in the ER. Now I just see the woman who chose me when she had every reason to run.
Her voice splinters. “Matteo would have loved you. He would have been so happy for us, for Elena, and for everything we’ve built.”
“I hope so.” I pull her close and hold her while she cries. Her tears drip onto my shirt, but her hand continues clutching the medal. “I hope he’d see me as a man worthy of his amazing sister.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wet and her heart visible. “You’re worthy of everything. Always have been. You just needed someone to show you.”
We kiss and head to bed, and I can’t help but marvel at this new life I have.
In our bedroom, I watch the moonlight waltz across the ceiling and listen to the quiet of the living quarters. A stillness creeps in, one that comes when the world has stopped taking.
“What are you thinking about?” Lucia’s voice is sleepy and content. She’s a woman who’s finally let herself rest.
“That I never thought I’d have this.” I reach for her, pull her closer, and feel her heat against my side. “A wife. A daughter. A son on the way. A life that’s mine. A life I chose.”
She offers a soft, warm smile as she looks back at me. “And now?”
“Now I think maybe I was always meant to.” I kiss her forehead, her nose, and her lips. “Maybe all the pain, all the loss, and all the things that broke me were leading here to you and to this life.”
She cuddles against me, her head on my chest, her hand over my heart, and her hair spread across my skin. “Do you regret any of the choices that brought you here?”
I think about Bruno and all the years I spent believing I was nothing. Back then, I felt undeserving, like I was only good for violence. I recall the fights, the blood, and the things I did to survive.
