Epilogue
It was several weeks later when Antonio heard a knock at the door.
Alyssia and Sofia had gone to her father’s house to visit and plan her baptism, and he’d stayed behind to catch up on some paperwork.
Douglas had been reunited with his niece the week before, and they’d moved to Miami shortly after.
As far as he knew, neither of them had any plans to return to New York, which suited him just fine.
If he’d had his own way, Douglas would have lost a limb or two, but cooler heads had overruled him.
He set his coffee down on the kitchen counter and headed towards the front door, humming a song under his breath. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but since Maria’s death a lot of relative had come out of the woodwork, so it was fairly likely that another one had come to introduce themselves to him.
Antonio opened the door and saw someone on his front doorstep who looked familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time.
He was medium height, with steel grey hair and the brightest blue eyes Antonio had ever seen.
His skin was a deep brown and wrinkled, but still full of life, and he was dressed in a plaid shirt and tan corduroy trousers.
He looked up at Antonio, checked a photograph that he was clutching tightly, and then let out a joyous whoop before throwing his arms around Antonio and hugging him tightly.
“Antonio, mi caro nipote!” he shouted, offering Antonio a dazzling smile and stepping back to take him in properly.
“Zio Tony?” he gasped, almost unable to believe his eyes.
Tony grinned back, gripping his arms tightly, and hugged him again.
Antonio’s arms slowly came up as he held his uncle’s frail body close to him.
Whatever had happened to Tony, he was in bad shape, and he had a suspicion that his father would employ someone to feed his uncle up again.
“Sei tu, mi nipote!” he heard his uncle sob. “I thought I’d never see you again, caro mio!”
“How did you find me?” Antonio asked, ushering him into the house and closing the door. “Dad told me he’d managed to get you released, but we didn’t know when they were bringing you home!”
“I’ve just seen your father,” Tony grinned over his shoulder, looking around at the paintings and photos. “He drove me over here to surprise you. He mentioned that you’d had a baby? Tante congratulazioni!”
“Thank you, Zio. Alyssia’s at her dad’s with Sofia – the baby – and she’ll be back this afternoon, I think.”
“That’s good. Babies are a blessing,” Tony smiled, making his way to the kitchen and taking a seat on a nearby bar stool. “So, you gonna make me a coffee, or what?”
“Of course, sorry!” Antonio darted over the stove and turned it on, the blue flame warming the moka in an instant.
Shortly afterwards, the two were drinking some fine Italian coffee, as if no time had passed.
They shared stories, jokes, and caught up on each other’s lives, the years falling away like cobwebs.
Evening fell, and Alyssia came home with Sofia, who was full of beans as per usual.
Alyssia was over the moon to see Tony, and most of the evening was spent laughing and joking.
Tony, in the manner of all Italian uncles, sat bouncing Sofia on his knee until she fell asleep, and then he gently took her upstairs to her bassinet before making his excuses and starting to head back to David’s.
On the way out, he took Antonio’s hand and gripped it tightly, tears pricking his eyes. His grip was firm, but not painful, and Antonio felt the strength of generations flowing between them.
“Listen, nipote,” Tony began, fixing Antonio with a steely glare. “I know you fucked up in the past. We’ve all fucked up before. The trick is not to fuck up again, mi senti? Don’t ever let that woman go. She’s the best you’ll ever have.”
“I won’t, Zio,” Antonio smiled. “Trust me, I’ve come this close to losing everything, and I’m damned if I’m letting it happen again.”
“Good, because otherwise you’ll be dealing with me,” Tony nodded, before waving goodbye and heading outside to the waiting car. Antonio waved back, smiling at his uncle fondly, and then closed the door.
He stood there for a moment, letting the weight of the day fall off his shoulders, and then headed into the sitting room where his wife was watching a movie.
He sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gently kissing her hair.
She smelled of Sicilian lemon and orange blossom, a smell that transported him back to his childhood in an instant, and he breathed it in deeply.
“You OK?” she asked, smiling up at him. He gently kissed her lips, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. As always, she had the power to erase all sadness, worry, or doubt, and he offered up a silent prayer of thanks for her love.
“Better now you’re home,” he breathed, starting to pull away. She pulled him back and kissed him again, a little more deeply, before gently pushing him away and settling back down in his arms.
“You know, I’ve never felt so lucky,” he murmured, resting his head on hers. “You, Sofia … my family … I’m so blessed, and I’m so sorry I nearly threw it all away.”
“You were beyond stupid,” Alyssia acknowledged, a half smile playing on her lips. “But you know you were stupid, and I trust you not to screw up again.”
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, pulling her as close as he could. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I know I haven’t said it yet, but I wanted you to know that I forgive you,” Alyssia whispered, her voice now sleepy. “You can throw away the divorce papers, too. We’re in this together, forever.”
Antonio couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard, and part of him wanted to check if she’d meant it, but he didn’t dare jinx himself.
He sat in silence for a while, until he looked down and realised that Alyssia had fallen asleep.
He laughed to himself and swept her up in his arms before softly carrying her to their bed, laying her down, and covering her with a blanket.
Sofia snuffled a little, and then settled back down to sleep, her tiny fingers curling into little fists. Antonio laughed to himself again, thinking that his daughter looked like the tiniest boxer in the world, and then gently snuck out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
As soon as he was safely out of earshot, he made his way downstairs and started tidying everything away. He made up a bottle of formula and put it in the fridge for later, did the washing up, and made sure that the house looked perfect before heading upstairs.
Ever since they’d come home from the hospital, he’d made it his mission to take on more of the domestic chores, refusing to let his wife do anything more than look after Sofia – although even then, he did his best to do the lion’s share.
Alyssia sometimes complained, saying that she didn’t need to be treated like an invalid, but he mostly ignored her, knowing that she’d be back at work the second she was signed off by the doctor’s.
As he climbed into bed beside his wife, a smile made its way across his lips, and his heart lightened. Whatever Maria had tried to achieve with her deluded obsessions, she was safely buried, and could never hurt anyone ever again.