“Well, if you fancy a career upgrade, I need a new second.”
Before Dante can respond, Mia comes in behind him, carrying a sleeping Luca. She gives him a look that could wither steel.
“I thought I told you to leave him alone. He’s resting,” she says firmly, setting our son in one of the matching bassinets that now inhabit the corner of my room.
Dante raises his hands in surrender but winks at me before leaving.
It’s late in the evening when I wake up to the sound of music coming from downstairs.
Now that I can use the gym again, my mobility is improving nicely. I even managed to shower after my last workout without wincing under the hot stream of water.
Healing is never linear, but when I come to with the sweet melody in my ears, I swear I’ve never felt better.
Quietly, I throw on a shirt and pad down the stairs to investigate. I stop in the doorway to the living room, and my breath catches.
Mia is there, swaying gracefully in the center of the room. Her long, wavy red hair cascades down her back, catching the light like a halo of fire. She’s wearing one of my shirts, oversized on her frame, the sleeves rolled up as she twirls gently.
Luca is nestled close in her arms, his tiny head resting against her shoulder. Beside her, Liza dozes in her bassinet, already fast asleep.
I lean against the doorframe, unable to look away. Mia’s green eyes are bright, focused entirely on the twins. She hums along to the song as if the world beyond these walls doesn’t exist.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, just watching her. Admiring her.
In this moment, she is everything—strength, beauty, love. The thought pierces through me: I don’t deserve her. Not after everything I’ve put her through. And yet, she’s here.
She spins slowly, and her bright green eyes catch mine.
For a moment, she freezes like a deer in headlights. Then, a warm and teasing smile breaks through.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” she says quietly as she goes to put a sleeping Luca down.
I step forward, unable to keep the smile off my own face.
“And miss this?” I gesture to her, to the twins, to the life I almost lost. “Not a chance.”
She rolls her eyes as I stand before her, offering her my arms. “We never had the chance to dance at the opening night of the casino.”
“I suppose we didn’t.”
Her eyes light up as she steps into me, hands clasping mine as I lead us in a gentle waltz around the room.
It’s magical the way she tries to hush her laughter on behalf of the sleeping infants, the way the corners of her eyes crease with happiness as she presses herself into my chest.
Forever. This could be my forever.
As we slow down, I lean into her, unable to stop myself. Breath grazing over her ear. “Come to bed with me.”
“Leon, I?—”
“I love you. So much.” My words fill the inches between us with something so precious. “You’ve done so well. You’ve looked after everyone. Please, let me look after you.”
Her throat bobs as I lean in to press my lips to hers.
It’s like a damn breaking.
It’s been so long. There’s never been enough time. Never been enough communication.
Now, we have all the time in the world.
