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Eight months later
As I hold our precious baby boy in my arms, a surge of overwhelming love and joy washes over me, filling every corner of my being. His tiny fingers curl around mine as he snuggles close, and his soft breaths are warm against my skin. He is perfect in every way.
I glance over at Frank, who sits beside me on the hospital bed, his eyes shining with pride and adoration as he gazes down at our son. His smile is radiant, his expression filled with wonder and awe as he reaches out to gently stroke his baby’s cheek.
“He’s beautiful, Lisa,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. “Absolutely perfect.”
I nod, my heart swelling with love as I watch the two most important people in my life bonding in this tender moment. I reach out and take Frank’s hand in mine, squeezing it gently as tears of happiness fill my eyes.
“We did good, didn’t we?” I whisper.
Frank nods, his eyes never leaving our son’s tiny face. “We did more than good, Lisa,” he says, his voice filled with pride. “We created something truly miraculous.”
As we sit there together, basking in the glow of new parenthood, I can’t help but feel a sense of wonder and gratitude wash over me. This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of, the moment when our little family is finally complete.
I turn to Frank, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. “So, what should we call him?” I ask, eager to hear his thoughts on the matter.
Frank’s brow furrows as he considers the question. “You know,” he says slowly, “I always wanted a son, Lisa. But I never really thought about names.”
I laugh, the sound light and carefree, and nudge him playfully with my elbow. “Well, looks like you’ll have to think quick,” I tease, a mischievous twinkle in my eye. “But for now, how about we name him Carmine after Father Carmine?”
Frank’s eyes light up, and a grin spreads across his face. “Camine Vietti,” he repeats, the words rolling off his tongue with a sense of pride. “I like the sound of that.”
I lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek, my heart overflowing with love for this man who means everything to me. “Welcome to the world, Carmine Vietti,” I whisper to our sleeping son.
As I lie in the hospital bed, cradling our newborn son in my arms, I feel content, seen, and loved. I’m filled with a deep sense of peace and happiness that I have never felt before.
I glance at Frank and see concern creasing his brow and a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “What is it?” I ask. “Is something wrong?”
He takes a deep breath and reaches to take my hand. “There’s something I need to tell you, Lisa,” he says, his voice serious. “Something I’ve been keeping from you for a long time.”
My heart skips a beat at his words, and a sense of apprehension creeps over me as I wait for him to continue. What could he possibly have been hiding from me all this time?
“What is it?” I ask again, my voice trembling slightly.
He takes another deep breath, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. “Your great-grandfather,” he begins, his voice low but intense. “He was a Mafia don from Sicily.”
I feel my breath catch at his words, a surge of shock and disbelief washing over me. My great-grandfather, a Mafia don? The revelation fills me with mixed emotions, ranging from disbelief to a strange sense of pride. I wonder if that’s weird.
“How do you know this?”
“Father Carmine told me.”
“I trust him, but this is a bit too much to believe.”
He smiles calmly and reaches into his pocket, bringing out a crumpled photograph.
He hands it to me, his eyes never leaving mine.
It’s a photograph that’s identical to one of the photos my grandmother showed us that evening after our second wedding.
It almost brings me to tears, but Frank holds my hand and leans in, making me realize that this is good news, at least to him. And that’s good enough for me.
“So, what now?” I finally say, a bit of excitement coursing through my veins.
“Well, for starters, you should give yourself more credit. You had a fighter in you this whole time.”
“But why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask. “Why keep it a secret?”
