Epilogue #3
It wasn’t technically our anniversary since we weren’t married yet. But it was the one-year anniversary of the night we met, the night that changed everything for both of us.
It was something I needed to celebrate.
And I’d been working on it for months, thanks to the salary that had steadily come in from Remo down in Atlantic City.
Milo was out of town, thanks to a favor I asked of Luca Grassi to, essentially, get rid of him for a few days so I could get this done without him.
It started a while back with the tank designers.
Then the contractors because this kind of tank required support from below.
Which meant I was basically sneaking people into the house for the past few months to do work without Milo knowing. Though basically his whole family did know, so I felt less weird about it.
But the lally columns and beams were in place.
The tank had been built.
The water and plants that had been carefully cultivated for months so they had the perfect pH were all in place, along with fun hides, filters, and all that jazz.
So I was just standing back to watch the goldfish get placed in the tank.
I’d gotten him two of his Telescopes, a Lionhead, a Ranchu, an Oranda, a Comet, a Black Moore, a Butterfly, and a few regular Fantails in different colors.
Technically, with this tank size, it could hold up to thirty or forty goldfish.
But after a ton of research (really, I was a fish expert at this rate) I’d decided to go on the low end.
First, so they all had a ton of space to swim around.
Second, goldfish were really dirty fish.
Which meant it was hard to keep the tank clean, the water balanced, and the fish alive if you overfilled things.
I’d had it installed in Milo’s office at our new house. Mostly because he spent a lot of time there. But also because when we first viewed the house, he’d waved at that very wall and said, “What the hell can we do with that?” because it just looked so odd and out of place in the room.
I figured out what the hell to do with that.
And according to my estimates, Milo would be home in about three hours.
“Happy anniversary,” the fish guy said, handing me my receipt and being led outside by Lucky, who refused to let me meet a single contractor or supplier without his presence when Milo was away.
It was one of the many things to love about the Grassi family. They were insanely protective.
Did they also want to make sure no contractors brought in recording equipment? Sure. But they were always there for you, always ready to step in if you needed a hand.
I’d never seen anything like it.
It had taken a long time to feel like I belonged, like I deserved it. Not because they made me feel that way, but because it just felt so foreign to me.
What had really helped was the women inviting me in.
I wasn’t just invited to Sunday dinners.
Suddenly, I was an emergency call if someone’s kids were sick at school.
I was called on to help everyone get together to make freezer dinners for a family member who was going to have a baby.
I put together baskets when someone was sick.
Those acts of service created a sense of belonging. And it had rooted deep. It became a part of me that could never be taken away.
And with that came the loyalty.
I would bleed for these people.
I would die for them. Each and every one of them.
That realization was what helped me fully understand their organization and their family dynamics.
It was no wonder they were as devoted and successful as they were. It was easy to succeed in life with such a wide and supportive safety net.
I felt so blessed to be part of it. Even if it wasn’t legal yet. And I couldn’t wait to bring our children into this family.
What can I say? I had a bit of baby fever after being around all these Grassi kids.
But we still had to do the wedding thing.
Then it was time for the baby thing.
I mean, we’d just finished decorating the house.
And what a house it was.
I turned away from the fish (which were a lot more hypnotic than I thought they would be) and walked out of the study.
The house was way too big for the two of us. But we wouldn’t just be two forever. There was plenty of room for kids to run around playing tag and lots of places to conceal themselves for hide-and-seek.
The lower floor featured a sprawling floor plan. The dining room had a table large enough to seat twenty. The kitchen had two islands, an eat-in table, and a pantry bigger than my old bedroom at my apartment in Atlantic City.
I’d been taking cooking lessons with Adrian and some of the other moms. I didn’t have high hopes of ever being as good as they were, but I hoped to be able to feed my family eventually.
There was a more formal living room, a family room, and a flex space that we figured might become a playroom eventually.
The second floor featured five bedrooms, four baths, and so much closet space that it was almost laughable. But also a selling point for us.
We also had the basement that was currently unfinished, which we figured it had the potential to become anything we needed it to be. Storage. Hobby areas. A hangout space for teens one day, so they had a safe place to hang out with friends.
It currently only housed our holiday decorations and one particularly large spider that had a prolific web-making ability.
The backyard had been the best part of the whole place. We had about a quarter of an acre, which was spacious for the area, surrounded by a stockade fence and mature landscaping that made it feel like a world away from all the neighbors.
Milo had surprised me with a hammock that I spent a lot of time in.
“Roe,” Lucky called, making me drift back toward the front of the house. “He’s only half an hour out. I’m gonna get going. Don’t want to be here for what I imagine will be a naked reunion.”
“Thanks for being here,” I said, giving him a smile.
“Happy anniversary, babe,” he said before heading out.
Alone, I dashed upstairs to change into one of my old lounge singing dresses, complete with the sexy thigh-highs and heels.
Then ran back down to turn on some sexy music (because Lucky was right; I planned to be naked relatively quickly) and waited for Milo, perched on the edge of his desk.
“Baby?” he called, coming in the front door a few minutes later.
“In here.”
“Why are—” he started, but then he saw me and the fish tank. “Baby…”
“Happy anniversary,” I said, pushing off the desk. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“This is… amazing.”
“And don’t worry; I learned all about maintenance and will be handling it all. You just get to sit and watch and ponder… business stuff.”
“This is amazing,” he said, putting down the box in his arms and reaching for me instead. He pulled my back to his chest, and we both stood watching the goldfish swim around for a long moment. “Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to my neck. “My turn.”
“Your turn?” I asked, twisting in his arms.
“I may have asked Luca to pretend to send me out of town so I could work on something for you,” he admitted.
“Wait, what? I asked him to send you out of town so I could work on this.”
“So he played both of us,” Milo concluded with a little huff of a laugh.
“I guess he’s a romantic,” I said, sliding my arms around his back and leaning up for a slow, lingering kiss. “Okay. Enough of that. Where’s my present?”
Milo chuckled but went to retrieve his box.
I was excited as hell.
Milo was a phenomenal gift-giver.
And I never realized how much I liked getting presents until him.
The box, though, wasn’t super promising.
It was an old grocery store box, beaten up and dirty.
But I followed Milo over to the desk, where he set it down and pulled the tuck on the top.
“Go ahead,” he said.
I reached inward, feeling something velvet.
Then pulled out… my grandmother’s jewelry box.
“What?” I asked, gasping. “How?” I added, tears flooding my eyes. “I thought my grandpa’s daughter sent this to my mom when she cleaned out his house.”
“She did. I… persuaded your mom to give her effects to me. The car is fucking packed.”
“You paid her,” I concluded, my stomach dropping.
Because I knew my mom. If she knew there was a revenue stream, she would keep coming back to take buckets of it.
“Paid cash. And didn’t tell her my name,” he said.
Of course.
It wouldn’t be the first time Milo dealt with someone who looked at him and saw dollar signs.
I flipped open the jewelry box and was shocked to see it was all still there—every little piece I remembered my grandmother showing me.
“I can’t figure out why she didn’t sell all of this…”
“There were so many boxes. Your grandmother saved everything. I don’t think she got through them all. There are two more jewelry boxes in there. You also have some of her outfits, heels, headdresses, photo albums, and even some letters.”
“Letters?”
“Love letters. Your grandmother wasn’t exaggerating about all the rich and powerful men who fell in love with her. It’s no wonder, though. You look just like her.”
God, I landed the best man ever.
“I love you so much,” I said, dropping the ring I was holding into the box to fold myself into his arms.
“I love you more,” he said, wrapping me up tight and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
That wasn’t possible.
But it felt good to hear.
Milo - 2.5 years
“Your ma is wasted as fuck and pulling the slot arm like her life depends on it,” Remo said, moving in beside me to hand me a coffee.
It was the day after our wedding.
Early.
Roe was still sleeping in.
“It’s not even ten in the morning,” I said, wondering if I should be worried about her or not.
“To be fair, she hasn’t been to bed yet.”
“No shit,” I said with a bark of a laugh.
“The bartender started watering down her drinks a few hours ago. She hasn’t noticed yet. When I talked to her, she said she was worried about the hangover, so she just… wasn’t gonna stop drinking. I like her,” he added with a devilish smirk.