Epilogue #2
"So are you," Luca says, glancing up at me with tired but happy eyes. "So is Dante. We are all good at this."
"We had good teachers," I say, thinking of Seamus and how he raised Rosalina with love and discipline in equal measure. Thinking of Dante's mother, who came over last week and who spent three hours cooing over Maggie and giving us advice we barely remember through the fog of sleep deprivation.
"Do you ever think about what our lives would have been like if Rosalina had not walked down that aisle?" Luca asks quietly, still rocking Maggie. "If Erin had married Dante like she was supposed to? If we had never met her?"
I consider the question seriously. "I think we would have been half-alive. Going through the motions. Doing our jobs but never really feeling anything."
"I think you are right," Luca agrees. "She gave us permission to be human. To want things. To love."
Maggie has fallen back asleep, her tiny rosebud mouth slightly open, her hand curled into a fist against Luca's chest. He doesn’t stop rocking, just keeps the gentle motion going, unwilling to disturb her peace.
"Do you want to take her?" Luca offers.
I nod, and he carefully transfers her to my arms. She weighs nothing and everything simultaneously—this tiny person who carries all our hopes and dreams and fears.
I settle into the rocking chair, and Luca sits on the floor beside me, his head resting against my knee. We sit like that in the quiet darkness, the only sound Maggie's breathing and the creak of the rocking chair.
"I never knew I could be this happy," Luca says after a while. "It almost scares me. Like something this good cannot possibly last."
"It will last," I tell him, because I refuse to believe otherwise. "We will make it last. Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes," Luca echoes.
The door opens quietly, and Dante appears, wearing only pajama pants, his hair disheveled from sleep. "Everyone okay?"
"Everyone is perfect," I assure him. "Maggie just needed some company."
Dante moves into the room, and Luca shifts to make space for him on the floor. We sit together in the predawn darkness—three men, one sleeping baby, and the overwhelming knowledge that this is what we were always meant to be.
Not soldiers. Not weapons. Not criminals.
Fathers. Husbands. Family.
"Rosalina is going to kill us if she wakes up and we are all gone," Dante observes.
"Then we better get back before she wakes up," I say, but I don’t move. None of us do.
Because these moments are rare and precious. These quiet hours where the world is just the four of us—soon to be five when Rosalina wakes up—and nothing else matters.
Eventually, Maggie stirs, making small sounds that indicate she is about to wake up and demand food. I stand carefully, carrying her back to the master bedroom where Rosalina is waiting.
She is already awake, sitting up against the headboard, her hair a wild curly mess around her face. When she sees us—me carrying Maggie, Dante and Luca trailing behind—she smiles.
"You all disappeared," she says, but there is no accusation in her voice. Just love. "I thought maybe you ran away."
"Never," Dante says, climbing back into bed beside her. "We were just having a family meeting."
"At three in the morning?"
"The best meetings happen at three in the morning," Luca says, settling on her other side.
I hand Maggie to Rosalina, watching as she adjusts her nightgown to begin feeding. The baby latches immediately, and Rosalina winces slightly—still getting used to nursing—but her expression is pure contentment.
"This is my favorite part," she admits quietly. "When we are all together like this. When everything is quiet and perfect and exactly how it should be."
"Mine too," I say, sitting at the foot of the bed where I can see all of them—Rosalina glowing with new motherhood, Maggie feeding peacefully, Dante and Luca flanking them like guards even in sleep.
My family.
The family I chose and who chose me back.
The family worth dying for.
But more importantly—the family worth living for.
I watch Rosalina's eyes drift closed as Maggie nurses, her body relaxing into the mattress, completely at peace. Dante's hand rests on her ankle, Luca's on her shoulder, both of them protective even in sleep.
And I make a silent promise to all of them.
I will protect this. This family, this love, this perfect, impossible happiness we have built together. Whatever it takes. However long I have.
This is what I was always meant to do.
Not guard a mafia prince or fight in territory wars or enforce criminal codes.
This.
Love these people. Protect this baby. Build this life.
Everything else is just details.
Maggie finishes nursing and falls asleep against Rosalina's chest, milk-drunk and satisfied. Rosalina carefully shifts her to rest in the bassinet beside the bed, then settles back into the pillows with a contented sigh.
"Come here," she murmurs, and I move up the bed to lie beside her, Dante on one side, Luca on the other, me at her feet.
Four people who should never have worked together.
Four people who found something neither the Italian nor Irish mafias could ever give us.
Freedom. Choice. Love.
Family.
And as the sun starts to rise through the bedroom window, painting everything in shades of gold and rose, I close my eyes and let myself believe in happily ever after.
Because if anyone has earned it, it is us.
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