Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“It’s all in the past,” I told him. “And I’m really happy for you too.”
With that, he rose. “I have to get back. Renzo runs a tight fucking ship, and I’m working today.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” I said, following him to the door. “You can do so, you know. Stop by. Anytime you want. I’m usually around. My phone number is the same too,” I added, opening up that line of communication. “Keep in touch,” I added.
“I will,” he said, giving me a smile.
Then he was gone.
I didn’t realize there were parts of me that were still hurting until they healed with his visit.
“Hey, baby,” Emilio said, coming into the kitchen to find me coating the breadsticks with melted garlic butter. “I heard you had a visit.”
There was no privacy in this Family.
Oddly, I found that comforting.
“Cage,” I said, giving him a smile. “He’s clean and working and not speaking to his father right now. He seems like he’s doing so well.”
“That’s the conclusion I came to too,” he agreed, nodding.
“Wait. You saw Cage?” I asked, giving him small eyes.
“I don’t consider Frank your father,” Emilio said. “But it’s the proper thing to talk to the man in your life about asking you to marry me,” he said. “Not ask for permission,” he was quick to clarify. “But just to tell him my intentions.”
“You went to see my brother?” I asked, feeling the sting of tears, and watching as Emilio smiled and shook his head at them.
“Yeah. He’s family now too.”
God, just when I thought I couldn’t love this man anymore, he went and did and said things like that.
Emilio - 2.5 years
“This feels wrong,” Avery said as we stepped outside the front door of the Brownstone.
It was the first time since the baby had been born that we had gone out together without him. All the other trips had been the usual, and frequent, trips to the pediatrician.
Actually, I think this was the first time Avery had left him, period.
Even though the women of the family were frequently dropping in to lend a hand, to give her a break, she never took the opportunity to go out to grab a coffee or do some shopping alone.
“Baby, it’s just a couple of hours,” I reminded her. “And not only is my mom here, but so are two of my aunts. All of whom have raised several babies themselves,” I added. “Not only will he be well-cared-for, but the place will be spotless, and meals will be in the fridge and freezer.”
“I know. I’m being silly. But I feel really fucking guilty about leaving him,” she admitted. “What if I didn’t leave enough milk?”
“Baby, you left enough for two full days. Plus all the extra you have stored in the freezer.”
“I’m being super extra, I know,” she said as I held her hand tightly and led her down the stairs.
This trip out was actually at the insistence of all of the women in my family who understood too well how Avery was feeling, but also insisted how important it was for her to be able to leave the baby, to trust someone else with him. Even for just short trips.
“I mean, what if she’s sick, and can’t take care of him for a few days?” Gia had insisted. “It’s good for him to be able to be comfortable with other people.”
“Being a mom is the most important thing I’ve ever done,” Isabella said. “But being a person and a partner is important too. It took Primo insisting we have date nights for me to remember that.”
Then, of course, bringing in the topical, there was Mira. “I mean, you put a baby in her that ripped its way out of her nether-regions. You owe her some wining and dining. There were stitches, Milo,” she’d said, shivering at the very idea. “Stitches.”
I’d been there.
I remembered.
And, yeah, I owed the woman some wine and an endless amount of pasta for that. Plus, I don’t know, a new car. A whole new wardrobe.
Thank fuck women did the childbirth because I couldn’t fucking handle it.
She’d been a champ. I mean, sure, she’d cursed her heart out the entire time, inventing new and somewhat hilarious cusses in the process, but she’d been a real trooper, considering.
Then, even after all that physical and emotional trauma, as we sat in the bed holding our son, she stroked a finger down his cheek and said she wanted at least four more of him.
“Oh, it’s pretty,” she said, head tipped back, watching the glittery twinkle lights that were all over the city. Christmas was over, but the city was still alive with color.
“Yeah,” I agreed, but I was looking at her, not the city.
“Oh!” she said as we ducked into the back of the SUV. “I forgot. My Christmas present finally came in today,” she told me, pulling a box out of her purse.