Epilogue #2
Dante looked down at Jenny's sleeping face. For a long, long time, he finally said, "Yes."
"I'll hold her well," he said, voice rough. "Give her everything I never had."
"If Salvador were still here today..." He suddenly spoke. "Seeing Jenny. I wonder what his face would look like."
I listened quietly, not interrupting.
"He was hard his whole life. Never said things the easy way." Dante's voice was soft. "But if he were here, seeing his granddaughter, he'd probably secretly have people send over the best of everything. Then he'd say with a straight face, 'Not bad.'"
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I squeezed his hand. "He would have."
Dante turned to look at me. He nodded. Said nothing more.
Maggie moved into the manor too, in the room next to the nursery.
She said she came to help with her granddaughter, but I knew—she wanted to be close to me.
When I worked as a maid in the manor alone, she always worried I'd be wronged.
Now she could finally watch over me every day. Watch over her little granddaughter.
During the day, while I sketched designs, Maggie took Jenny to the garden for sun. The warm light fell on them. Little Jenny lay in her stroller while Maggie sat in a nearby chair, wearing reading glasses, hemming my garments.
I bent over my work, focused on my sketch. On the page—a little baby dress. I planned to make it for Jenny myself.
My daughter deserved the most thoughtful design in the world.
Three years later. Autumn. New York.
The brand "Jenny" had become one of America's hottest new independent bridal labels. Custom orders were backed up two years.
And today was Jenny's first fashion show.
The night before, I sat in my studio staring at the final piece hanging on the wall—the finale gown—checking every pearl on it over and over. I'd checked it countless times already, but my hands still trembled.
Footsteps behind me. A pair of large hands settled on my shoulders, pressing gently.
"Nervous?" Dante's voice came from above.
"A little," I admitted. "This is the brand's first show. I can't mess it up."
"You never mess up." Dante sat beside me, looking at me. "Three years ago, when you walked into our wedding in the dress you made, pregnant, I watched you from below. I knew then—you'd succeed at anything."
"This is different." I looked down, fingers twisting together. "That was our wedding. Everyone there knew us. Tomorrow, it's all of New York watching."
Dante took my hand, wrapping it in his palm. "So what? All of New York is just there to witness how good you are."
I looked up at him and suddenly laughed. "When did you get so smooth?"
"Always have been." Completely serious. "Just never had anyone worth saying it to before."
I relaxed a bit, standing up to look one last time at the finale gown. "Let's go home. Sleep. Tomorrow's a battle."
Dante stood too, taking my hand. "Tomorrow I'll be in the front row with Jenny and Maggie."
"Good."
The day of the show, the venue was in Manhattan's most bustling district. Under a massive white dome, the runway was laid with pale marble, with packed seating on both sides. Top models wore my wedding gowns, one after another, trains trailing across the runway, shimmering under the lights.
The audience was packed.
All of New York's major families came—the Malcolms, the Lombardis, the Rivieras... Those faces that once looked at me appraisingly at the Moretti wedding now wore genuine smiles, applauding for me.
Luca sat in the front row, raising his glass to me.
My gaze moved past the crowd to the center of the audience.
Dante sat there in the black suit I'd designed for him, his eyes following me the entire time. Beside him, Maggie held Jenny. Little Jenny wore the princess dress I'd made by hand, waving her arms excitedly, shouting "Mommy!"
"Mommy! Mommy!"
My eyes stung.
On the runway, the final model walked out in the closing piece—the most important work I'd designed for this show. White train covered in hand-sewn pearls, flowing like a river of stars under the lights.
The room erupted in applause.
The host handed me the mic. "Let's welcome today's star, emerging independent designer, Elena Moretti!"
The spotlight hit me. I stood at the end of the runway, looking at the people I loved below.
I walked toward the audience with the mic, stopping in front of Dante, reaching out my hand.
"Dante, I want to stand with you."
Dante paused, then smiled. He stood, took my hand, and walked onto the runway. Maggie, holding Jenny, followed.
I crouched down, lifting Jenny into my arms, settling her there.
Under the spotlight, I held the mic, looking at the camera and everyone below.
"Dear girls," I said. "If you're watching this show, please believe—someday, you'll find your own happiness. You'll wear a Jenny gown and walk to someone who truly loves you."
"Just like me."
The room went silent for a moment. Then applause surged like a tide.
Jenny rested on my shoulder, mimicking the adults, clapping her little hands twice. Everyone laughed.
Dante stood beside me, his arm around my waist. He didn't speak. Just looked into my eyes. There was light in them.
I squeezed his hand tight.
The spotlight was bright, but I knew—my light wasn't on this stage.
My light was him.
Was Jenny.
Was Maggie.
It was each of them, lighting the way for that little maid who once walked with her head down in Moretti Manor, step by step, until she became who she was today.
After the show ended, reporters swarmed me for interviews. It was ages before I finally escaped to the backstage dressing room.
Dante was already there waiting. He leaned against the sofa. When he saw me come in, he stood, said nothing, just opened his arms and pulled me in.
I leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, suddenly feeling my eyes heat up.
"That nervous?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah." I buried my face in his chest, voice muffled. "More nervous than childbirth."
Dante laughed at that, his chest vibrating gently. "Well. When you had Jenny, you weren't so tense."
I lightly hit him. "It's different."
"How?"
"When I had Jenny, you were beside me," I said. "Today, you and Jenny and Maggie—you were all watching me. I was afraid I'd disappoint you."
Dante lowered his head, kissing the top of mine. "You could never disappoint us."
The dressing room door burst open. A small figure ran in.
"Mommy!" Jenny wore the princess dress I'd made for her, throwing herself into my arms, looking up with bright eyes. "Mommy, you were so beautiful today! Everyone said Mommy is the best designer!"
I crouched down, picking her up. "Do you think Mommy's good too?"
"Yes!" Jenny nodded hard, then tilted her head, thinking. "When I grow up, I'll be like Mommy and design lots and lots of pretty dresses!"
Maggie stood in the doorway, watching us, smile lines at her eyes. "All right, all right, Jenny. Let your Mommy rest."
"Nooo," Jenny clung to my neck, refusing to let go. "I want to stay with Mommy."
Dante walked over, taking Jenny from my arms and setting her on his shoulders. "Then Daddy will take you for a walk so Mommy can rest."
"Yay!" Jenny wrapped her arms around Dante's head, giggling.
I followed their steps, following these people I loved and who loved me deeply, walking together toward our happiness.
The road ahead held glory, joy, companionship. I would never again be lonely, sad, or disappointed.
This, I thought, was the meaning I'd been searching for all along.