Chapter 3 – Two Years Later
MATTEO
TWO YEARS LATER
She lies in my lap, her head tucked over my thighs as she stares up at me in our little paradise. We’ve spent many days on this island, no longer dreaming it, but living it instead.
I place a palm over her growing stomach, our daughter inside. Only a few months until we get to meet her.
Our baby, she will be loved. She will be protected. I can’t wait to be a father. I will live my life for her. I will ensure she only sees the good parts of this world as long as I can.
I don’t ever want her to find out what happened to her mother and me. Cruelty like that isn’t for children. There’s already too much broken in the world. I don’t want to burden her with our story, or more like our hell.
I know Aida worries about that—if she were to find out. She’s afraid of what she’ll think, but I’d like to think she’ll realize how strong her parents truly are.
“Are we going fishing later?” Aida asks, lifting her hand up, cupping the stubble riding up my jaw.
“If that’s what you want, we can. We can do anything, baby.”
She sighs, her lips twining up at me and my heart beats for her. “The world, it smells beautiful, doesn’t it?” She inhales, her lashes fluttering to a close.
“Nothing is as beautiful as you.” I bend my face to hers, our lips meeting in quiet passion.
She leans deeper, angling her face, and I feel it, that love we share. It’s everywhere. In the sun. In the sky. In the song that the birds sing high above.
It’s a wonder where one can find love when they look for it. And in Aida, I find it all.
AIDA
FOUR MONTHS LATER
How can someone be so small? I stare into my daughter’s face, Cecilia Alison Cavaleri. She was born a few days ago at only six pounds and nineteen inches. A tiny doll with the puffiest cheeks we can’t seem to stop kissing.
Our living room is filled with voices, all of them wanting turns to hold the newest member of the family. I get up, placing her in my father’s arms as his eyes gleam with tears.
“I’m your grandpa, kiddo.” He blinks rapidly, unable to hold back his emotions. “She looks like you when you were born, sweetheart.” He chokes up. “You had the same cheeks, and you were just as tiny.” He laughs, our eyes meeting. “I was afraid to hold you. That’s how small you were.”
I take a seat beside him, my head on his shoulder as we stare at her, a family, all of us in this room.
She starts to fall asleep, and he hands her back to me, kissing her little foot.
I give her to Chiara next, and after that, everyone else gets a chance with her.
She has so many people who love her. Who would die for her.
She’s lucky that way. My beautiful girl.
If only Mom and Alison were here to meet her.
Alison.
My throat throbs at the thought of her. I miss her so much, and every chance I get, I visit the makeshift grave we made for her. I needed somewhere to say goodbye, and so did her family. So we decided to give her a proper funeral, with everyone who’s ever loved her.
We did the same for Mom too. The two women who were both mothers to the girl and the woman I became. Without them, would I be who I am? I don’t believe I would be.
Matteo’s still haunted by what he had to do to save me. Shooting her wasn’t easy for him, but I had forgiven him long ago. We’ve all done things we can’t take back. It was our life, and we did the best we could.
But our life is better now. I’m studying to become a teacher.
Only a year left until I get my degree, and Matteo is happy running his successful gallery in the city.
His work hangs everywhere, selling for more money than either of us even know what to do with.
I’m proud of him—the boy who’d sketch photos of me.
My God, it feels like forever ago now. I have every single picture he’s ever made me, framed and hanging on the wall of our bedroom, reminding us that love is a simple kind of beautiful.