Chapter 39 Zalea | Florence
THIRTY-NINE
ZALEA | FLORENCE
ONE MONTH LATER
“Did Caspian keep you up all night?” I ask as I step into the living room.
The morning sun spills through the large apartment windows, shining golden light on the wooden floor. Zale is curled up in the corner of the couch, his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes, with Caspian tucked against his chest.
“More like, I couldn’t stop staring at him all night,” he whispers, a small smile on his lips.
I snort. “You sound like Gabriel with Marina,” I say, walking into the kitchen to prepare their bottles. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since we left the hospital.”
“Jealous?”
I laugh as I scoop formula into the bottle machine. “Absolutely not. The more sleep I get, the better mother I become. If you two want to sacrifice your bedtimes, it’s fine with me.”
I tighten the lid on Caspian’s bottle and walk back over. “Want me to take him from you so you can get some sleep?”
“No,” he answers quickly, taking the bottle from my hand. “I can do it.”
He guides the bottle to Caspian’s mouth, and my son latches instantly, tiny fingers curling into his onesie. Seeing my younger brother like this warms my heart.
“You know,” I start, “a baby in your arms really suits you.”
“Don’t start,” he mutters, adjusting Caspian slightly.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m very happy with my bachelor uncle lifestyle right now,” he says, not looking up. “I get the babies when they’re cute and hand them back when they cry.”
I roll my eyes and walk back to the kitchen just as the bottle machine beeps again to let me know Marina’s bottle is ready. I carry her bottle back to my bedroom where Gabriel is sitting upright against the headboard, eyes locked on her bassinet.
“You need to sleep,” I whisper, crossing the room and lifting her gently. She stirs but doesn’t cry.
He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You look like you might tip over if I so much as poke you.”
He yawns mid-protest, proving me right.
“Giovanna and Paolo are coming by later,” I remind him. “They’re bringing the paintings and saying goodbye before we leave.”
He nods. “Okay,” he murmurs. “An hour. Wake me in an hour.”
“Sure,” I lie.
He slides down the bed, and the second his head hits the pillow, he’s out, snoring lightly.
It’s wild how intensely tired your body becomes when you become a parent. Suddenly, there’s no amount of sleep that ever feels like enough.
I get comfortable against the headboard and begin feeding Marina.
The soft sighs and little hums she makes while she eats floods my system with warmth.
We named her after Gabriel’s mother, Marina Matthews.
He never got to meet her, but he wanted to honour her in some way.
And Caspian is named after my dad, one of the strongest men I know.
Sometimes, when I stare at them, the love I feel is so overwhelming I don’t know what to do about it.
More often than not, I tear up. I know Marina isn’t Gabriella, but sometimes I imagine this is what it would’ve been like.
What it could’ve been like. The longing ache for an experience with her I’ll never get to live is something I’m still learning to accept as normal.
I brush my thumb over Marina’s cheek and blink away the sting in my eyes.
“I love you,” I whisper to her.
When she’s finished, I change her diaper and lay her back in the bassinet, watching how she stretches before settling into a comfortable position and dozing off. I bring her empty bottle back to the kitchen sink, picking up Caspian’s along the way, before scooping him up from Zale’s arms.
“Alright, time for you to nap too,” I say to Zale.
“I’m not tired,” he argues. “Give me my nephew back.”
“Zale, I hate to break the news to you, but you literally look like you got run over by a car or hit by a vespa. You won’t ever get another girl if you keep looking like this.”
“Okay, okay,” he scowls, standing as he rubs his eyes. “I’ll take a thirty minute nap.”
“Minimum,” I reply as he trudges toward the bigger couch, muttering under his breath.
I smile down at Caspian as I gently sway with him on our way to the bedroom.
Giovanna and Paolo are stopping by later this afternoon because tomorrow I leave Italy with my little family and head straight to Hawaii to pack up my life there, before moving back to Saltwater Springs for good.
My time here has been transformative, to say the least. It gave me space to grieve my past, to heal, and to fall back in love—not just with Gabriel but with myself too. It gave me the space to become a mother again without fear swallowing me whole. But, it isn’t home.
Home is Saltwater Springs, where my family, our friends, and Gabriella’s grave are waiting.
I can’t wait to bring Gabriel and the twins to her, to introduce her to her siblings.
I want to sit there as a family of five and tell her about everything she missed, along with everything she made possible.
I press a kiss to Caspian’s forehead as I slowly lower him into his own bassinet.
“It’s finally time to go home,” I whisper.
And for the first time in a long time, leaving doesn’t feel like I’m running from something.
It feels like I’m walking toward it.
The End.