25. Sofia
25
SOFIA
I wake up slowly, my body still deliciously sore and sated from last night’s passionate sex. As I stretch languidly, I reach out for him, expecting to feel the warmth of his body next to mine. But my hand encounters only cold, empty sheets.
I frown, a pang of disappointment and confusion washing over me. I have a vague memory of Dom saying something to me earlier, his voice soft and apologetic, but I was too lost in the haze of sleep to fully register his words.
With a sigh, I drag myself out of bed, getting dressed and ready for the day. As I make my way downstairs, I can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles in the pit of my stomach. It’s strange not to have Dom by my side, especially after the intimacy and closeness we rediscovered last night.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost collide with my father-in-law as I enter the main hallway. Don Sicura looks up from his papers, his brows raising slightly at the sight of me.
“Sofia,” he greets, his tone gruff and businesslike as always. “I trust you slept well?”
I nod, trying to muster a polite smile. “I did, thank you. But I was wondering if you might know where Dom is? He was gone when I woke up this morning.”
Don Sicura studies me, his expression inscrutable. “Dominico is out handling some business for me. I wouldn’t expect to see him for the rest of the day.”
His words are short and clipped, leaving no room for further questioning. I feel a flicker of annoyance at his dismissive tone, at the way he seems to expect me to simply accept Dom’s absence without explanation.
But I know better than to push the issue. It’s been ingrained in me to always accept what the Boss says and to pick your battles carefully if you want to argue.
“I see,” I say, my voice carefully neutral. “Well, in that case, I think I might go visit my family today. With my father’s health being what it is…”
I trail off, a lump forming in my throat at the thought of my father’s declining condition. Every moment with him feels precious now, like a grain of sand slipping through an hourglass.
Don Sicura nods, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. “Of course. Family is important, especially in times like these. Give your father my regards.”
I murmur my thanks, grateful for even this small show of understanding from my usually stoic father-in-law. As I gather my things and head out to the car, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief at the prospect of spending time with my own family again.
There’s a part of me that will always belong to the Marinos, a part of me that craves the warmth and love and unconditional acceptance that I’ve always found in my parents’ home.
And with my father’s time running short, I know I need to cherish every moment I have left with him, to let him know how much he means to me and how grateful I am for everything he’s done.
Because soon, too soon… he’ll be gone.
Nope, I can’t go down that road right now.
Not now. Not yet.
* * *
“Miss Sofia,” Marco says as he opens the door. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”
I take in a deep breath, the familiar scents of Rosa’s cooking wafting through the air, the soft strains of Italian music drifting from the kitchen. It’s like a balm to my weary soul.
But as I make my way to my father’s bedroom, my heart grows heavy with dread. I know what I’ll find behind that door—the once-vibrant man I’ve always looked up to, now weakened and diminished by the cruel ravages of illness.
How could this have happened so soon after my wedding?
As I enter my father's bedroom, I’m surprised to find him sitting up in bed, a lap desk piled high with papers and folders balanced across his knees. His underboss, Victorio Tenebre, sits nearby him as they discuss matters of business. Even in his weakened state, my father’s brow is furrowed in concentration, his pen scratching across the page with a familiar intensity as he murmurs something to Victorio.
For a moment, I just stand there, taking in the sight of him. Despite the obvious toll his illness has taken, there’s still a spark in his eyes, a determination that not even cancer can completely extinguish.
“Papa,” I say softly, a teasing lilt to my voice. “Don’t you know you're supposed to be resting? Even when you’re sick, you're still such a workaholic.”
Both men look up at the sound of my voice, Papa’s face breaking into a wide, joyful smile. “Ah, Sofia, my darling. You know me—I’ve never been one to sit idle. There’s always work to be done, deals to be made. Victorio has been doing his best, but I still need to steer the ship.”
I shake my head, moving to perch on the edge of his bed, smiling at Victorio. “Right now, you need to focus on getting your strength back.”
“I’ve been saying the same thing, Sofia,” Victorio says, shaking his head and getting up. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Papa chuckles, setting aside his pen and reaching out to take my hand in his as Victorio closes the door. “Always so bossy, just like your mother. But I suppose you’re right. I can spare a few hours to spend with my favorite eldest daughter.”
“You'd better believe I'm going to monopolize every minute of your time today.” I squeeze his hand gently.
He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear. Now, what shall we do with this precious time together?”
I smile, already reaching for the stack of well-worn records on his bedside table. “I thought we could start with some music. All your old favorites, the songs we used to dance to when I was a little girl.”
His face softens with nostalgia, a faraway look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. I remember those days well. You, standing on my feet as I waltzed you around the living room. Your mother, shaking her head and pretending to scold us, even as she smiled behind her hand.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat at the memory. “Those were good days, Papa. Some of the happiest of my life.”
He reaches out, cupping my cheek with a weathered hand. “Mine too, my darling. Mine too.”
As I put on the first record, the soft strains of an old Italian love song fill the room. I settle back onto the bed beside him. We sit there together, hand in hand, letting the music transport us back to simpler times.
And for a little while, at least, it’s like nothing has changed..
But even as we lose ourselves in the melody, in the comfort of each other’s presence… I can’t ignore the shadow that looms over us. The knowledge that our time together is precious, finite.
That every moment is a gift, one that could be snatched away at any time.
It breaks my heart to see him like this, to know that the strong, vital man I've always relied on is slowly slipping away. But I force myself to stay present, to savor every laugh and every story, every squeeze of his hand in mine.
My sisters and mother soon join us, and the house fills with laughter and chatter and the clinking of glasses. We feast on all of my father’s favorite foods—rich, hearty pasta dishes and delicious roasted meats, fresh bread still warm from the oven and decadent desserts that melt on the tongue.
Through it all, my father looks delighted, his eyes twinkling with mischief and his laughter booming out across the room. For a few precious hours, it’s like the shadow of illness has lifted, like we’ve all been granted a reprieve from the inexorable march of time.
But as my father’s energy starts to flag, I can see the toll that the day has taken on him. His movements are slower, more labored, and there’s a weariness in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
It breaks my heart to see him like this. I force myself to stay present, to savor every laugh and every story, every hug and every kiss on the cheek.
My heart feels both heavy and full as I leave the house after giving my father an impossibly tight hug. The day spent with my family, surrounded by love and laughter and the bittersweet knowledge of our limited time together, has left me feeling raw and exposed, but also grateful beyond measure.
As I slide into the car, my thoughts drift to Dom, to the tentative new beginning we’ve forged. And suddenly, an idea takes root in my mind, a spark of inspiration that fills me with a sense of excitement and purpose.
Dom has always talked about his desire to travel, to see the world beyond the confines of our insular lives. And while I know that a long, extended trip is out of the question right now, with my father’s health and our family obligations… what if I could surprise him with a taste of that freedom? A chance to escape, even just for a little while?
Before I can second-guess myself, I'm directing the driver to make a stop at a nearby travel agent’s office. Stepping inside, I'm struck by the array of colorful posters and brochures, each one promising adventure and excitement in far-flung corners of the globe.
The agent, a cheerful woman with bright red hair and a warm smile, greets me from behind the counter. “Welcome! How can I help you today?”
I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach. “I'm looking to plan a surprise trip for my husband. Just a long weekend, somewhere new and exciting. Somewhere we can get away from it all, even just for a little while.”
The agent’s smile widens, her eyes sparkling with understanding. “Of course! That's such a lovely idea. Let me pull up some options for you.”
As she taps away at her keyboard, I let my gaze wander over the posters on the walls. Images of sandy beaches and snow-capped mountains, of bustling city streets and serene countryside vistas. Each one seems to call to me, promising a world of possibility and wonder.
“Okay, here's what I've got,” the agent says, turning her screen to face me. “A few different destinations that might fit the bill. Romantic and just a short flight away.”
As I scan the options, one in particular catches my eye. A tiny, picturesque village nestled in the heart of France, surrounded by rolling hills and verdant wineries. It looks like something out of a dream, a place where time seems to stand still and the worries of the world just melt away.
“That one,” I say, pointing to the screen. “The Loire Valley. It's perfect.”
The agent nods, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulls up more information. “Excellent choice. I can book you a charming little villa with stunning views of the countryside. And of course, plenty of opportunities for wine tasting and exploring the local culture.”
I feel a grin spreading across my face, a sense of giddy anticipation bubbling up inside me. “That sounds amazing. Let’s do it.”
A few minutes later, I’m walking out of the office with two open-ended tickets in my hand, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. I can’t wait to surprise Dom with this, to see the look on his face when I tell him we’re going on an adventure, just the two of us.
But as I’m exiting the building, still lost in my own thoughts, I suddenly collide with a solid wall of muscle. I stumble back, disoriented, and strong hands reach out to steady me.
“Sofia?”