Epilogue
Arya
Michael and I get married three months after we move in together. It’s not one of those big, lavish mob weddings my mom always wanted me to have. It’s cozy. Friends, Michael’s family, a tasteful gift of a bedroom set from the Don...
We hold it on the grounds of his family estate on a warm day, under a canopy of hundred-year-old live oaks and a pergola pinned up with roses. Michael’s mom is weepy but gracious. His father’s tentatively warm and congratulates Michael on stealing something far more valuable than my programs: my heart, talents, and skills for the Rossi family.
I’m sure my parents are furious about it, but they did this to themselves. Suddenly, in the middle of all the feasting and dancing after the wedding, the pain hits me again in full force, and I have to stop what I’m doing for a few minutes to pull myself together.
It’s all right. It will fade with time. One day, the pain won’t dig into me as deeply. Maybe when I tell our future kids why they only have one set of grandparents. But I’ll deal with that when I come to it.
Michael’s happy, attentive, and a little drunk.
I’m really glad to see it, after everything. I used to see him as a carefree idiot, but now, I realize my assessment was all surface. There’s nothing like going through hell together to give you perspective on people.
His sister’s been shipped off to a private sanitarium in Sicily. His relatives are embarrassed and have varying degrees of apology. As I watch him chatting with his brother Billy while I wait for questions from our photographer, he’s mostly smiles.
I know that leaving and marrying into a rival family has made waves within the Families. It doesn’t happen very often, but I haven’t dealt with fallout from anyone but my own family. It’s like everyone else doesn’t know how to deal with the issue but knows that I don’t deserve to face trouble for it. Maybe my father’s reputation has spread further than he ever wanted.
I don’t know if I’ll ever talk to any of my blood family again, and that uncertainty makes things worse. But no matter what, I’ve got Michael, and he’s made it clear to his family that we’re a package deal now.
Life goes on. I’ll miss my sister, and sometimes, I’ll miss my parents, too. But they’ve chosen this, piece by piece, year after year, well before the heist that shamed me in their eyes.
I’ve always thought that when it reached this point, if it ever did, I would walk around burdened by the fact that I no longer had any family.
Now, I know that isn’t true. My situation isn’t perfect, no more than anyone’s, but I’ll never be without family. Not after today.