Chapter 22 #2
Elena appears, towel over her shoulder, flour dusting her hands. “Just ignore him. I’m Elena, his wife—the only thing keeping this family somewhat civilized.”
Millie shakes Elena’s hand, the ease between them clear. She belongs here.
The table erupts in conversation—talk about work, old family stories, and plans for the summer. Millie fits right in, effortlessly laughing at jokes and sharing little stories about the café back in Cherry Falls. I catch Papa watching her with a thoughtful smile.
“You’re a natural,” he says quietly, raising his glass toward her.
Millie smiles warmly, eyes meeting his with genuine respect. “Thank you, Luca. It means a lot.”
As the afternoon wears on, Papa leans back and begins to share a story, one of the few times his voice drops to a quieter, more nostalgic tone.
“You know, Gabriel wasn’t always the serious one. When he was a kid, he had this wild streak—climbing trees higher than any of the boys, chasing after the neighborhood dogs with no fear at all. He was always stubborn, like his mamma here.” He nods toward Mamma, who laughs and swats him.
“And that stubbornness,” Papa continues, “sometimes got him into trouble, but it also made him fiercely protective. Especially when his sister moved away.”
I feel a tug in my chest—how much my family has shaped me, and how much they still mean to me.
Millie listens, genuinely interested, her hand finding mine under the table. She squeezes gently.
I glance at Millie, who is laughing with Siena, letting the little girl twirl a lock of her hair.
“Thanks for coming,” I say softly.
Millie meets my eyes, her warmth anchoring me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As the afternoon shifts toward evening, the light softens, and the family begins to pack up. Millie holds Aura before I take her, her head resting against my shoulder.
Mamma kisses Aura’s forehead. “You’ll come back soon, right?”
“Of course,” Millie replies.
I sling my arm around Millie’s waist as we walk to the car, the olive trees swaying gently in the warm breeze.
I glance at Millie and Aura and feel it clear and true.
This is home.
Every small sound seems magnified in this stillness—Millie’s soft breath, the faint rustle of fabric, the occasional coo from Aura—but I treasure this fragile calm.
I slide Aura into her seat carefully, trying not to jostle her too much, but her little hands twitch, and I hold my breath, praying she stays asleep.
A tiny sigh escapes her lips, but she doesn’t stir. I feel a small wave of relief wash over me. My heart swells with affection for both her and Millie, who has made everything about this trip so much better.
I lean over the car seat and brush a stray curl from Aura’s forehead, my fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary, memorizing the soft warmth of her skin.
It hits me how precious these quiet moments are, how fleeting childhood is, and how deeply entwined my life has become with these two incredible souls.
Millie’s natural ease and warmth with my family only adds to her incredible ability to adapt and make the best out of every situation.
Her knack for making Aura laugh, even when she’s tired, has only deepened my feelings for her.
Every moment spent with Millie feels precious—something I want to hold onto tightly, never wanting to let slip away.
As I start the engine and drive, I glance at Millie and Aura in the back seat. Millie’s hair is a little messy from the morning, and the soft breeze coming through the cracked window makes it sway gently.
Her face is lit with a soft, unguarded smile, and I can see how much she enjoys being with Aura. The way she makes eye contact with my daughter, speaking to her softly, is such a natural act of love.
Aura’s giggles fill the space, and I can’t help but smile, my heart feeling fuller than it ever has.
I have this quiet moment of clarity—a realization that this trip, this experience has been everything I never knew I needed.
A sense of peace settles over me, a calmness that is unlike anything I’ve ever known before.
I steal glances at Millie’s profile, marveling at the way the sunlight kisses the curve of her cheek and how even amid all this chaos, she exudes this calm, radiant presence. I think about how lucky I am that she came with me, to be part of this messy, beautiful life.
As we near the airport, the buzz of the day settles in. I glance at Millie, whose smile fades slightly as she stares out the window, her fingers absently playing with the edge of the seatbelt. It’s clear that while we’re all ready to return, leaving Italy tugs at her heart.
I reach over, pulling a small pill out of my pocket. “Here, Bumper,” I say softly, offering it to her. “I got you something to help with the flight. I want you to be comfortable this time.”
She glances at me, her eyebrows knitting together, but then she sees the concern in my eyes. “You’re a good man, Gabriel,” she murmurs, taking the pill between her fingers. “Thank you.” She pops it in her mouth, washing it down with water from the bottle on the dashboard.
“Anything to make this trip easier for you,” I reply, turning my gaze back to the road.
The hustle of the airport is always an energy I feel as soon as we arrive—an adrenaline rush mixed with the tension of travel.
There’s something thrilling about it, yet the noise and rush of other travelers always feels overwhelming. But this time, with Millie by my side, it feels different.
“I’ll be counting down the days until we get to come back. Italy was a dream,” Millie says, her voice distant as she looks out to the stream of travelers.
I can’t help but agree, my heart aching at the thought of leaving. But there’s no use in lingering over something we can’t change. “We’ll be back. I promise,” I assure her, squeezing her hand before we head to the gate.
We reach our gate just in time. The airport employee calls our section to board, and we’re ushered into line. We hand over our boarding passes without complications.
We walk through the long metal bridge, the hum of the airplane in the distance vibrating through the floor beneath us.
The metallic clang of the bridge underfoot mingles with the indistinct murmur of passengers around us. I catch Millie’s hand, feeling the slight tremble that betrays her calm facade. I know this travel anxiety all too well, and I silently vow to be her anchor, just as she has been mine.
I get Aura and Millie settled in the pod first, securing her in their seats. Then, I stow our carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment.
As I sit down, I take a moment to breathe in the space's peace. Millie’s sitting beside me, her eyes still full of the soft reflection of Italy, but now there’s something else there, too.
Something deeper.
When she catches my gaze, her eyes seem to shine even brighter, like I’ve just discovered a layer of her I haven’t seen before. I reach for her hand, squeezing it gently as I bring it to my lips, kissing the top of her hand with a soft, lingering touch.
She looks at me, and for a moment, it feels like no one else exists in the world.
“You know, your eyes remind me of a hidden forest,” I say softly, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“In the right light, I can see flecks of gold shimmering within them, capturing the warmth of the sun in the green hue of a forest.”
She tilts her head, curiosity piqued, her expression softening. “Oh really? Tell me more,” she says, her voice almost breathless as she leans a little closer to me.
I feel the air between us change, the intensity of her attention making my heart race. “Sometimes they’re bright and alive, sparkling with desire, and other times, it’s almost like they reflect your passions and dreams. It’s impossible for me not to get lost in them.”
Her lips part slightly, her breath catching as she feels the weight of my words. She bites her lip, an emotion crossing her face that I can’t quite place. “You carry such a warmth within you, and when you look at me, the entire world fades away. Like we are stuck in our own little bubble.”
Her gaze softens more, and without a word, she brings her hand to my face, cupping it gently. Her thumb traces the line of my jaw, and she leans in slowly, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss so soft, so full of promise. My breath hitches for a second, and I forget where we are.
“I love you, Gabriel,” she murmurs between kisses.
“I treasure every moment we share. I do my best to make sure you feel loved and valued in each one—because the way you make me feel is unlike anything I’ve ever known.
What we have makes me believe deeply in the love stories you only read about in books. ”
I feel a lump in my throat as I pull her closer, my heart swelling at her words. “Millie…” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.
She leans her head against my chest, and I close my eyes, holding her in the silence that follows. The hum of the airplane fades away, and it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
Neither of us notices when the plane lifts off, the engines roaring as we leave the ground.
I’m lost in her, in the way her words wrap around me, making me feel both weightless and anchored at the same time.
The rest of the flight is smooth. We don’t hit a single bump, and the hours drift by quietly.
Millie rests her head on my shoulder, her breathing soft and steady.
I stay awake, watching over both of them—Millie and Aura—and I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
This trip, this little family I’ve created, has given me something I never knew existed. Something that feels permanent.
When we finally land in Cherry Falls, the fatigue from the long day of travel hits us all at once. It’s a quiet exhaustion, the kind that comes from doing something worthwhile. I turn to Millie as we pull into my driveway.
“I was sad to leave Italy,” she sighs, “but there’s nothing like coming home.”
Her voice is soft, almost wistful, and I know she’s not referring to my house as “home” in the traditional sense.
But for a moment, I imagine a life where we shared a home—where this feeling of contentment isn’t something fleeting, but permanent.
It’s a daydream, but one I hold on to as I turn off the engine.
I glance at her one more time as she opens the door. Her smile tired but genuine. “Yeah,” I agree softly, my thoughts lingering on the future. “There’s nothing like coming home.”
We stand there for a moment longer, the air heavy with unspoken promises and the soft twilight settling in.
I reach out, pulling her hand into mine, fingers interlacing naturally.
In that simple touch, I feel the strength of what we’ve built—not just this trip, but everything we hope for.
The past is behind us, and the future feels full of possibility.
Ciao, cucciola- hello little one
Finalmente- Finally
i miei amori- my loves
Ecco la mia preziosa bambolina-There's my precious little doll