Epilogue
Ayanna
Five Months Later - Atlanta
“Do you like it?”
I could hear the anticipation in Teo’s voice as I stood in the circular driveway, rubbing my now protruding belly as I took in the stunning mini estate spread out before me.
It wasn’t as massive as our New York home, but it was perfect—gated and private, with gorgeous manicured green lawns that seemed to stretch forever.
The house itself was beautiful, blending modern elegance with Southern charm. Tall massive windows covered the structure and the wraparound porch reminded me of the relaxing villas in Italy.
“Come on, Amore. Tell me what you think?” He stepped closer, his hands sliding around my waist from behind, his hand covering mine.
It was like our son knew when his daddy was around. The moment his palm touched my belly he went wild, kicking and squirming. It felt like he was doing somersaults in mama’s womb.
“Calm down mio figlio,” he chuckled in my ear, then rested his chin on my shoulder.
“I’m trying to get your mama to say she loves the new place,” he whispered softly.
We both looked at the house together. His eyes were hopeful, and my face was full of unspoken happiness.
I felt the tears well up before I could stop them. Two lonely strands slid down my cheeks.
My emotional ass had been all over the place these past few months.
Even the simplest gestures made me sob. Last week he knew I’d been struggling with back pain, so he surprised me with a prenatal massage session, a new mattress, and plenty of pregnancy pillows to help me sleep better. I cried for an hour. And now he was buying us a second home?
My hand flew to the corner of my eyes to swipe the onslaught of tears I felt coming, because it wasn’t just the house, it was him giving me everything I asked for. A place to call home in the city where my heart always belonged, without having to give up the life we’d built together in New York.
“It’s too much,” I sobbed, but they were happy tears. The kind that come from being so thoroughly loved that it takes your breath away.
He turned me in his arms, those hazel eyes I’d fallen in love with searching my face.
“Five bedrooms, eight bathrooms,” he said softly, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“Plenty of space for our kids as we grow our family. And your parents will only be twenty minutes away. And the boutique is less than thirty.”
I laughed through my tears, shaking my head in amazement. “You remembered everything, huh?”
“I did. I remember every word you’ve ever said to me, Amore mio.” he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. “So will this do, Mrs. Donatelli? Or do I need to tell our realtor to find something different?”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips to mine.
What started as an innocent kiss morphed into a full make out session in the middle of the front lawn when his tongue pushed into my mouth.
And he held my face tenderly, deepening the kiss until we were both breathless.
“I hoped you’d like it,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. Then he produced a set of keys. “Come on, let’s go check out the inside.”
Leading me up the front steps, he unlocked the front door with quick ease.
The interior was just as stunning as the exterior — hardwood floors, crown molding, huge chandeliers.
It was more than enough to imagine our future here, to see our children playing in the spacious living room, and filling each bedroom with laughter.
“The kitchen,” he said, escorting me into a spacious room with marble countertops and a large island. Top of the line stainless steel appliances filled the space, along with a walk-in pantry that could fit a small grocery store. “Perfect for family dinners?”
I smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
I looked around already picturing my own version of family gatherings, like my Mama’s famous weekly dinners.
Where every seat was always filled and no one dared to miss it.
Where business talk mixed with laughter, and being late meant dealing with Mama’s gentle scolding because she valued our time together.
And now I could create that same tradition here.
Sunday dinners with both sets of grandparents spoiling our son, our siblings arguing over who’s the better aunt or uncle, and the sound of our children running through these halls.
It all made me smile.
Hand in hand, we explored the rest of the house, taking in each room until we made it to the nursery. An exact replica of what we had back in our home in New York, with light blue walls, state-of-the-art crib, and a rocking chair positioned next to the window.
“You had them recreate everything exactly,” I breathed, walking to the center of the room in awe.
“I wanted our son to feel at home in both places.” He moved behind me. “No matter where we are.”
I leaned back against his chest, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of this man. Not only did he listen to my wants, but he heard my heart, understood my dreams... our dreams. And made them a reality without me even having to ask.
“This is perfect,” I said for the second time today.
My gaze flicked to the baby art on the walls, and then the hummingbird hanging above the crib, gently swaying.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said quietly, placing my hands over his as they rested on my belly.
“About what we’ve been talking about. Names? ”
“Yeah? Did you come up with something new?”
“I have.” I turned in his arms to face him. “Well, not new, but similar. Something to honor his father and his heritage.”
His arms tightened, but he was quiet, looking at me intently, waiting for me to continue. “How do you feel about Mateo? He’ll still be his own person. Not a junior, just... carrying forward the best parts of his daddy.”
The emotion that crossed his face was everything. It almost resembled the day I told him he would be a father. The pride and love were tangible.
“Mateo Donatelli,” he whispered, testing it out. “I love it. And I love you.”
He kissed me in our son’s future nursery, surrounded by the promise of everything we were building together. I knew this wasn’t where our story ended. It was the beginning of something lasting and deep.