“I think you enjoy it more than I do. You sure you’ll be okay tonight?” It’s hard to get used to the nights Massimo is out doing his boss gig. Yes, I know that’s not the most respectful way of talking about his family’s business, but if I keep it light and easy, well, it’s easier to think about. Especially after he came home one night with a stab wound in his arm, a patch work of Band-Aids holding it together that wouldn’t do. Massimo never said what happened, and I didn’t ask, not that he’d tell me. All I know is when I go to sleep some nights, he’s not there beside me, but he makes sure his arms are wrapped around me when I wake up.
“Yes, he has our evening planned. Swimming, eating, watching a movie, and staying up well past his bedtime.” Since it’s Friday night, I already know Massimo isn’t going to give me too much flak for it.
“You spoil him. Sienna would laugh at the two of us raising her boy. She’d be proud, too, though.” Massimo is looking down at me. We have stopped near a store. He’s appeasing me with the window shopping I’m doing, even though it’s not his cup of tea at all. It’s definitely something I love to do, usually with my mom and Sailor. It’s also why I haven’t dragged him inside the stores with me.
“I love you, Massimo, more and more each day.” He knows this already. I probably tell him those words ten times a day, and they’re never taken for granted.
“And I love you, Henley.” His response has me weak in the knees, the butterflies in my stomach swirl around, and the way his eyes look into mine as he says them, I know he means them down to the marrow of his bones.
EPILOGUE
MASSIMO
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Dante, Aunt Henley and I have an important question to ask you.” We’re sitting around the kitchen island that’s an absolute mess in the best way possible. Today has been one of those days of making homemade pasta, marinara, and desserts of every kind while drinking wine, listening to music, and enjoying our family time without work intruding.
“You guys aren’t going to do something gross like make out in front of me again, are you?” He’s nine now, and while that might be what Dante is saying now, it definitely won’t be in a few years.
“Nothing like that, you little rascal.” The squeal of laughter from Dante as she says that has him, running away because he already knows Henley has no problem chasing him around the house until he surrenders after she tickles his sides or messes with his hair so much that it isn’t looking like he spent more than ten minutes in the morning on it only for Henley to demolish Dante’s work of art; his words, not mine.
“Uncle Massimo, help! Get your wife off me!” I move towards where they ran into the living room, finding Henley and Dante together, almost wrestling in a way.
“I think you deserve it this time around, champ.” I lean against the doorway, watching Henley, my wife. Fuck, I wasn’t sure that day would come. When I asked Ruger and Sadie for their daughter’s hand in marriage, pretty sure he was about to pull out his gun again. Thankfully, he didn’t. Sadie cried, Ruger nodded and stayed stoic but still had no problem telling me if her cancer came back and I wasn’t rock fuckin’ solid, he’d have no problem burying me in a shallow grave.
“Aunt Henley, I surrender, I give up!” Dante finally says.
“That took you long enough.” She messes his hair up one last time. Dante attempts to duck away, though that doesn’t happen. Henley sits up, her own hair that’s close to her shoulder a mess, soft waves with how it’s grown back in, the once reddish hair from the pictures I’ve seen has come in darker with only a slight red tint when the sunlight picks it up.
“I believe we had something to ask Dante, hmm?” I walk closer. The two of them are sitting next to one another. I take my place in front of both of them.
“Oh, yep, we do. Dante, you know your uncle and I both love you very much. We want you to be a part of our decision, so if you say no, we’re going to be okay with that, and it doesn’t mean it would happen right away either, because this process is long and lengthy, no matter that our last name is Russo.” Henley isn’t even getting to the subject at hand.
“Dante, Aunt Henley is botching this conversation. So, I’m going to take over. We’d like to adopt a baby. Our family fold would still be the same way. You’d have us as uncle and aunt; neither of us wants you to think we’d ever be able to take the place of your parents, but we’d love nothing more than to add to our family dynamic just the same.” Henley is biting her lower lip, more nervous than I ever was. With the way Dante is nodding, we have nothing to worry about.