Epilogue I
Matteo
I wondered if Rachel had eaten properly at lunch today. She'd been looking busy lately.
Had Sofia been showing off her new Italian words to her classmates at school again? And Cassius—that cat Rachel and Sofia had spoiled beyond all reason—was he hogging my favorite chair in the study?
These trivial, almost mundane thoughts had completely replaced the shipping routes, cargo docks, and family ledgers that used to fill my head. I had to admit it—Rachel had remade me. And I welcomed it.
So for our first wedding anniversary, I wanted to give her something special.
I pressed the intercom. "George, come in for a minute."
"What is it, my dear boss? If this is about acquiring that goddamn tech company again, I suggest you hand it straight to Luca. Let him storm their boardroom with his crew and show them, in the most direct way possible, how unwise it is to refuse Vitale's investment."
"Not business." I slid a prepared proposal across the desk.
"This is..." George picked it up and flipped to the first page.
His expression shifted from surprise to disbelief.
"The great migration in Kenya? Hiking Machu Picchu in Peru?
Diving the Great Barrier Reef? Boss, are you sure this is an anniversary gift and not location scouting for the next Mission: Impossible? "
"She'll love it." I leaned back in my chair. "There's an adventurer living inside her."
"All right." George spread his hands. "Congratulations, Matteo. You've finally learned how to be a husband instead of a Don."
Rachel hadn't come home again tonight. She'd been acting mysterious lately. Several times in the study, she and Leona had been holed up discussing something behind closed doors.
One evening when I got back from the office, Sofia wrapped herself around my leg and whispered conspiratorially, "Daddy, Mommy cried secretly this afternoon, right after she hung up from that really long phone call.
I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was just too happy. But why do you cry when you're happy?"
What was she hiding from me? My mind jumped immediately to the worst possibility. Had those old fossils in the family been saying something nasty to her behind my back?
That night, I barely slept. I called Luca to the study and had him pull all of Rachel's recent call logs and whereabouts. The results only confused me more.
She'd been talking to managers at several of Europe's top vintage car restoration shops and auction houses. And what she and Leona had been studying were thick catalogs of classic Ferrari and Alfa Romeo models.
Was she... trying to buy a car? But I didn't ask. I just had George speed up the travel plans, making sure every detail was perfect.
On our anniversary, New York's weather was impossibly good. I'd cleared all company business the day before and sent Sofia to Leona's. I drove Rachel out to the Hamptons.
"The beach again?" Rachel sat in the passenger seat, watching the increasingly familiar scenery fly past, smiling. "What surprise have you got planned this time? Fair warning—if you dare do it in the ocean again, I guarantee your dinner for the rest of the year will be nothing but vegetable salad."
"Relax." I freed one hand to take hers. "This time's surprise, I promise you'll be satisfied."
That evening, as the sun sank below the horizon, we walked side by side on the same beach where we'd held our wedding. The sea breeze was gentle, the waves rhythmic. I stopped and pulled an elegantly wrapped envelope from my jacket.
"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Vitale."
Rachel's eyes lit up. She took the envelope and opened it quickly. Inside was the invitation to the trip. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock when she saw the words "Journey to World Wonders" on the cover page, and finally to disbelief mixed with tears.
She flipped through images of African savannas, South American rainforests, and Australian coral seas. Her lips parted slightly, the light in her eyes brighter than the sunset.
"Matteo, you..."
"Three months. Just the two of us." I wrapped my arms around her from behind, my chin against her shoulder. "I've arranged everything. We leave next week. I'll take you to see the most magnificent sights in the world, Rachel. Just like I promised."
She turned, lifted her trembling fingers, tracing the route map over and over. Tears slid down her cheeks, one by one, soundless.
"How did you... I was just talking..."
I tightened my arms, holding her close. "Everything you said, I remember."
She lunged up and kissed me hard. I cupped the back of her head and kissed her back until she was breathless.
"Okay, now it's my turn." She pulled back, wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand, then pulled a small, equally well-wrapped square box from her purse.
"It probably... can't compete with your gift." She sniffled, pressing the box into my hands. "But I've been preparing for a long time too. Open it?"
I looked into her bright, tear-glazed green eyes, warmth flooding through me. I opened the box.
Inside, on black velvet, lay a car key. The design was vintage, the silver prancing horse emblem glinting in the sunset. A Ferrari—and a classic model I'd only seen in high-end collector magazines, long discontinued.
"This is..."
"I know you have everything in your garage." Rachel looked at me, explaining a bit nervously. "But I wanted to give you something... unique."
"It took me half a year, with Luca and George's help, to get it from an old Italian collector. Ferrari 250 GTO. I know you've always loved it."
She pulled me toward the white cottage's separate garage by the beach. My brain could barely function. A 250 GTO! This woman! I'd only kept a few magazines, and she actually... she actually found one!
Rachel opened the garage door. A deep red vintage sports car with elegantly flowing lines like a work of art sat quietly in the center. Under the overhead lights, the perfect bodywork reflected a mesmerizing glow.
"When the weather warms up, we can take it for drives along the coast, watch the sunrise in Montauk, go even farther, stop whenever we want. Just us."
I stared at her, my chest burning, picking up where she left off. "Spend weekends in the Hamptons, dump all the work on George and Luca, send Sofia to Leona's. We just play."
She laughed, running her hand along the car's body. "We could go to Napa, Tuscany, all those places you lived as a kid. You drive, I pick the best-looking roadside restaurants."
"Sounds good." I pulled her close by the waist. "After the three-month trip around the world, we'll catch up on all these plans. Wherever you want to go, I'll go with you."
"Promise?"
"Promise." I kissed her forehead.
She started to speak but suddenly frowned, her fingers clutching my sleeve.
"What's wrong?"
She turned her head, covered her mouth with one hand, her breathing irregular for two beats. The next second, she pushed me away, stumbled to the garage doorway, braced herself against the wall, and started dry heaving.
I rushed over, gripping her shoulders. "Rachel!"
She couldn't bring anything up, just her stomach churning violently, moisture squeezing from the corners of her eyes. I rubbed her back, my palms sweating. "Where does it hurt? Your stomach? Are you dizzy?"
"I'm fine..." She'd barely finished before she bent over again, even her breathing trembling.
This was not fine. I scooped her up and strode toward the house, shouting toward the entrance, "Call Ethan. Get him here now."
The staff didn't hesitate. Rachel leaned in my arms, face pale, but still clutching my shirt like she was trying to reassure me. "Matteo, don't be so nervous. Maybe I just got some wind before dinner."
"Shut up." I set her on the couch, kneeling on the carpet in front of her, reaching to touch her face. "You throw up one more time, I'm moving an entire hospital here tonight."
She'd been about to smile, but my expression stopped her. She blinked and stayed quiet.
Ethan arrived quickly. When he came through the door with his bag, I'd already paced the living room three times.
Rachel was wrapped in a thin blanket, curled on the couch, far calmer than me.
The doctor did basic checks and asked quietly about her recent diet and physical symptoms. As Rachel answered, her ears turned pink.
I stood to the side, temples throbbing. "What's wrong with her?"
Ethan put away his stethoscope and glanced up at me with a slight smile. "Matteo, don't panic. This isn't bad news."
"She's vomiting! How is that not bad?"
"Rachel's pregnant. From the timing, it's still early. We can do more detailed tests at the hospital tomorrow to confirm how far along."
I stood frozen, unable to move for a long moment, even the simplest words stuck in my throat. Rachel looked up at me, unable to hide her smile, her hand sneaking out to hook my fingers.
"Matteo?"
I finally snapped back, looking at her still-flat stomach, then at her, my voice tight. "You're pregnant?"
"Looks like it." She smiled, eyes impossibly bright. "So a lot of our plans might need rearranging."
That surging heat in my chest shot straight to my head. The next second, I bent down and pulled her into my arms, blanket and all, holding tight but not daring to squeeze too hard.
The car, the trip—none of it mattered now.
I lowered my head, forehead against hers, and after a long pause managed hoarsely, "Then we'll get a four-seater."
Rachel's shoulders shook with laughter. "Just four seats?"
"Six if that's not enough." I kissed the corner of her lips, carefully touching her stomach. "Whatever you want."
She looked at me, eyes gradually reddening, but still smiling. "What about the world trip?"
"After your body recovers, after the baby's born, after he's a little bigger." I gripped her hand, saying each word deliberately. "The beach, mountain roads, vineyards, snow-capped peaks—we're still going. We won't skip a single one."