The room stills for a moment. All of us at a loss for words.
“Explain,” Roman demands.
“Liam kissed me when I was sad that Sofia got sent to the principal’s office. It made me happy.”
Roman’s eye twitches. Dom’s gripping his knife. And Matthias tenses. I would find their reaction funny if I wasn’t also concerned about the boykissingmy niece.
“I told you not to tell them,” Isabel adds.
“What’s Liam’s last name?” Dom casually asks.
“Lucia and Liam sitting in a tree,” Sofia begins singing. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Roman exhales slowly, teeth grinding.
“Baby, he’s a little boy. He’s just being sweet,” Cecilia tries to calm her husband to no avail.
“First comes love. Then comes marri–”
“Please stop, Sofia,” Roman all but begs his daughter.
She actually listens and sweetly climbs into her father’s lap. She pets his wrinkled forehead, trying to smooth out his lines of worry.
“It’s okay, Daddy. We know we’re not allowed to have boyfriends until we’re sixty-five,” she consoles him. “That’s why Lucia told Liam he could only kiss her, not be her boyfriend.”
Roman looks pleadingly at his wife, and she scoops up Lucia.
“Sweethearts, you’re not allowed to have a boyfriend until you’re older,” she starts.
“Sixty-five,” Lucia adds.
“Yes, not until you’re sixty-five. But you shouldn’t be kissing until you have a boyfriend either,” Cecilia runs her hand over Lucia’s back when her lip starts to tremble. “Oh, honey, you’re not in trouble. You didn’t know better. But now you do.”
“Will Nico have to wait until he’s sixty-five to kiss?” Sofia questions.
My eyes dart to my only nephew, Nico. He’s sitting on his father’s lap, quietly taking in his surroundings. None of Margot’s verbose nature passed down to him, nor Matthias’s ego. They were worried at the beginning when he barely spoke, so I researched child development and did somedevelopmental testing with him. I was very proud to ascertain that he’s highly intelligent, and being silent is a choice of his.
When Nico curls into his father’s shoulder, Margot checks his diaper. She teasingly tells Matthias to change their son. To which he chuckles, presses a kiss on her head, then leaves the table with the squirmy toddler.
The triplets snap out of their no-kissing funk when mini lava cakes come out. Roman frantically warns his wife of the sugar rush they’ll get, but she just shushes him. He lets out a helpless sound as he watches his daughters devouring far too much chocolate so close to bedtime. But eventually he relents and feeds his pregnant wife a bite of her dessert. She leans into him, and they become lost in their own world.
My gaze shifts to the head of the table where Katerina sits with Dom to her side. Even he has found his happiness in an arranged marriage to the enemy. Even he gets his happily ever after. A happily ever after that includes knife foreplay… I blanch at the memory of them in the hallway connected to this room. I love them, but I’ll never understand them. I would never threaten Lizzy.
But I’ll also never have Lizzy. And the reminder crushes my soul. I just want what they have with her. It’s the one thing I need, and the one thing I can never have. I’ll never subject her to this life.
I’ve watched my family grow the past few years with a smile on my face but a pang in my heart. The joy my sisters-in-law and their children have brought this family is immeasurable, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. But I can’t stop the envy clawing at my chest. Making me bleed from the inside.
Even Matthias changing a poopy diaper makes me covetous, because that’s his son he gets to tend to.
Not being a big fan of sweets, I don’t touch my lava cake. When I catch Isabel eyeing it, I slyly switch my full plate with her empty one. She snickers and shares some with each sister, then the three of them dig in.
About halfway through their slices, Roman catches on. His mouth hangs agape, as he interrogates his daughters. But my brother didn’t raise a snitch, so they don’t confess the culprit. He shouldn’t be too worried anyway. Most of the cake ended up on their dresses.
After dessert, we all make our way into the den. The girls play on the floor, pretending to be princesses. I wish they’d play with the science kits I got them and would see there’s a world of opportunities out there besides princess, but Roman told me this is a phase. And that we have to let them be princesses now.
Mom sits next to me instead of in her armchair, surprising me. I turn to her and immediately regret it. Her expression is tormented, so I know where this is going.
“Mom, I’m fine–”
