Chapter 32
Cipriana
Our wedding night was incredible . I remember it like it was yesterday. Flipping through our album shows nothing but bright smiling faces, us kissing under a canopy, drunk dancing. God, he looked good that day. Six-foot-two sculpture of muscle in an Armani tux? Yes, please.
Oof. Then there’s this one picture that makes me side-eye Trino whenever we land on it.
I mean, really? There’s a batch of rice hitting me square in the face. I’m all scrunched and the photo’s all zoomed in. “Horrible.”
“Hilarious,” Trino cackles, rubbing my belly.
I’m showing now. And I’d be lying if I told you we didn’t just have hot kinky sex in the office.
Being pregnant made it hotter, somehow. Call it a captive fantasy or something.
I was tied up from wrists to ankles while he tortured me with his tongue.
My heartrate is still through the roof from it. Even a meal and a half later.
The bantering and laughter carry on for a good few minutes, until we land on the saddest photo in the entire album – Trino and I crouching with our arms around his seated dad. He had sunglasses on because the DJ lights were hurting his eyes, but he still forced a pained smile.
The air sucks out of the room, and I can feel Trino choking up beside me.
I squeeze his big arm. “It’s okay, baby.”
His jaw is so tense. Kissing his cheek is like touching a rock. I’m rubbing his back to console him, but really, I’m doing everything in my power to choke back tears of my own. That speech at the church, the months of agony after.
Tough, tough times.
“I can’t believe it’s been six months since we lost him.” Trino’s lips tighten, his gaze tethered to that photo. “He was in pain there. You see it, don’t you?”
“He was happy for us,” I say. “That’s how you should remember it.”
Trino stands abruptly, turning his back to me. “All I hear is his cough. Like the rattle before death.”
A tear leaks out of my eye. “ Trino .”
He grabs a rag and runs it down the island of our renovated kitchen in our new house.
After the whole capo promotion, and the whole falling in love with me thing, he – ahem – we , decided it might be time for a change of pace.
Not that his first home wasn’t beautiful, but I made this one less…
serial killer-y. We’re still on the water in Jersey, but the interior colors are far from muted now.
Our kitchen is all bright beige with matching granite.
Some lively backsplashes. The living room has fun paintings and lavish modern décor.
He’s getting used to it.
I give him his space and turn my eyes back to the photo. He’s right, after all. Stanzo looks like he wants to collapse here. Maybe I shouldn’t have…
Bzzzt!
The security system goes off to alert us of a visitor outside, provoking Trino to pull out a huge silver pistol as he checks the cameras. His brow furrows as he stuffs the gun back into his pants.
Bzzzt!
Bzzzt!
Bzzzt!
More cars roll up.
“The hell? Snaps, Mikey, Bruno… here comes Castor. Wait, why are your cousins here? Capri, what the fuck is going on? I’m not in the mood for this,” Trino growls.
“It wasn’t me. Oh God! I left some of our handcuffs and ties in the office!” I panic.
“Relax, I cleaned them.” Trino keeps staring at the camera display, shaking his head.
“They’re all smiling, at least.” I rub my belly, enjoying the kicks of our soon-to-be son baking in the oven. “Oh look, my dad’s here too.”
Trino eyes me again, and I throw my hands up.
“I swear, Trino. I have no idea what’s going on.”
He grunts and starts for the front door, so I run up to clasp my hand in his. I’m not being cute or anything. I really have no idea what this is about, but it’s brightening my spirits anyway.
He opens the front door to my dad at the foot of the stairs, with a crowd of people chattering behind him. “If you told me you were coming, I would’ve bought burgers or something.”
“Yo, that’s not how a capo should treat his guests.” Bruno holds up two containers of marinated steaks.
“Shh. Shh.” Rocco waves him down.
“Alright, guys, you got me. What the hell’s going on?” Trino spreads his arms.
My dad walks up the steps holding something under his arm. The others quiet. “Today is a special anniversary. And even though I told them you should leave the damn kids alone so they could enjoy their day… he insisted.”
“Who insisted? Insisted what?” Trino shrugs.
“Stanzo’s last wish was for all your closest to come together on your first anniversary and have a small celebration to rekindle that amazing night. And… to give you two this gift, to be opened when you’re alone.”
Trino accepts it with the most confused look on his face.
“That’s adorable,” I say, holding my heart.
“The old bastard had his moments.” Rocco slaps Trino’s arm. “He saved my life, after all. And got you to save my daughter’s. The least I can do is honor him.” He looks over his shoulder. “To Stanzo.”
“To Stanzo!” the others cheer.
“C’mon, let us in already, boss. We’re starving over here.” Mikey pats his big belly.
“You guys are a bunch of freeloading pricks, you know that?” Trino groans, and the crowd laughs.
We step inside and beckon everyone in. It feels like a surprise party, even though it’s neither of our birthdays. Once the shock wears off, I’m thrilled to see them all.
Jacky walks arm-in-arm with Gil, which warms my belly to see. I love that they’re still together. She hugs and kisses me a hundred times. “Why.” Another kiss. “Won’t.” Another. “You come. Back to. The firm?”
I swat her away. “I’m there part time as a consultant. Is that not enough for you, Jacky dearest?”
“No way. I miss my Capri. Who else am I going to tell about dragging this jock to all my festivals?” She smiles wide.
“I’m helping manage all of Trino’s businesses. Plus, I’m the lead counsel for a non-profit to help clean up the ocean! These are both full-time jobs, love, and I’m only one Capri. Sorry . Do you believe they let me go on the boat to remove sea trash half the time? We’re disgusting creatures.”
“Who would’ve thought.” Jacky shakes her head. “Bad ass stripper turned Earth-saving business manager, turned soon-to-be super mom .”
“I want this growing little one to be proud of me.” I rub my belly. “ Oh, oh. I forgot – there was one environmental trip where we helped sea turtles get to shore to lay their eggs. Isn’t that—”
“I’m dead. Died of cuteness overload.” Jacky is nearly in tears.
We both laugh, and when it settles, I take a breath. “Life’s crazy. Especially with this one.” I point to Trino cracking beers open for everyone.
Charlie makes his way over next, and we have a mini-reunion of surviving Nicky Frits’ dungeon.
It’s amazing how time heals. There will always be a stain, of course.
Each of us thought we were going to die that day, and saw one another in our darkest moments.
But today is bright. Everything is bright.
The day goes by in a flash. I think I may have hugged my dad about a thousand times since he got here.
He offered a nice formal toast after we ate, where everyone but me took a shot to honor Trino’s dad.
And then he gave an adorable speech about me and Trino.
How we’re the gold standard for everyone to strive for.
Apparently, Castor – Trino’s cousin – took offense to that, considering that scary bastard is literally gold plated.
It made for good banter though, and his wife, Gia, is a spitfire taming his grumbles into eased back smirks.
We’ve become fast friends. Seeing us all together really warms my heart.
Once we say our goodbyes and clean up most of the mess, Trino and I plop on the couch, staring at a box wrapped in white, with an eggshell-colored ribbon. We both look at it dumbly.
“Knowing him, it’s probably snakes in a can or some shit,” Trino scowls.
“Or maybe that blue paint that stains you when you steal something,” I suggest.
Trino scoots away from me. “Okay, go ahead. Open it.”
I gasp. “You’d sacrifice your pregnant wife?”
He laughs and grabs the box. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He rips open the bow like a savage and tears through the wrapping paper. I can’t help but slowly lift the box top to peek inside. No projectiles or pranks that I can see.
Trino knocks the top off to what looks like a scrapbook deep inside. No. An album.
We’re dumbfounded again – our mouth’s hanging open.
He slowly grabs for it like his arms are held back by weights. The shining letters touch the light, reading ‘Your First Wedding.’
It all clicks so fast – that strange photographer with the old-style camera… we never got the pictures developed.
“Capri…” Trino holds the album closed in his hands. “Pennsylvania—”
“I know . Open. Open. Open.”
He cracks open the fresh book to the sound of creasing.
Old style photos are faded in a yellow-ish tint, making it feel like a 1950’s album.
The first picture is of me and Trino fake smiling for the camera.
He literally captured me mid-pinch, which makes me burst out laughing. Trino can’t help but chortle either.
The cracks in the wall behind us, and the tiny old lady officiant smiling just barely over the podium makes it so endearing.
A few more pictures of Trino and I annoying each other make us reenact it all over again.
Then there’s one of us kissing. I remember that moment.
It’s like everything around us fades away whenever our lips touch.
I feel safe, and wanted, and loved . Even then, when he pretended he couldn’t stand me.
“That’s a nice shot,” he admits.
“I love that it wasn’t a show,” I say. “It was just for us.”
“Yeah.” He lingers on the picture, then eventually turns the page.
There they are, Stanzo and my dad, laughing genuinely. Not an ounce of pain plagues Stanzo in this photo. He’s all wide smile and excitement. It’s the definition of bliss. He’s got an arm around my dad mid-laugh, even though they were both in hiding.
“Never seen my dad so happy,” Trino’s voice gets hoarse. “Whenever you were around, Capri.”
“Whenever we were together, you mean.” Tears leak out of me.
“I miss him. Wish our son could’ve known him.”
My heart cracks in half.
Nothing but a yelp escapes me as I wrap both my arms around him. My sobs are silent. Even though they’re far from perfect men, I know Trino is strong because of his father. And that strength to protect his family can’t be bought anywhere else.
I want to tell Trino all of that, but I’m afraid all that would come out is a muffled cry. So I bury my face in his nook and tell him in a different way.
We just sit there holding one another in our perfect little dark life, as his tears wet the gift.
“I’m a better man because of you, Pop.” Trino sniffs, holding tightly onto the album edges. “You gave me the best gift of all before you left us.” He squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”