Page 158 of The Don’s Omega

Elio and I nod.

She squeezes the gel onto his abdomen. The screen lights up.

The last time I saw this screen, the baby was a bright smudge inside a dark oval, a heartbeat and not much else. What I see now is different. I can see a profile. A forehead, the slope of a nose, the curve of a mouth. Fingers curled near the chin. The baby shifts as the wand moves, and for a moment I see both hands, five fingers on each, and my chest squeezes at the sight of it.

“My gosh it looks like a real baby now,” Elio murmurs, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah,” I agree gruffly.

“I know. It’s pretty miraculous,” Dr. Vasquez murmurs. She adjusts the angle and the image shifts. “Okay, let me get a clear view of the four chambers of the heart.”

Elio’s hand tightens on mine. His eyes are locked on the screen but I also watch Dr. Vasquez’s face instead. Her expression will tell me before the machine does if something is wrong. I don’t know enough about fetal cardiology to read what I’m seeing, so I read her instead.

She’s quiet for what feels like a long time. She moves the wand slowly, clicking measurements on the screen.

“Septum looks normal,” she says, almost to herself. Another click. “Wall thickness is within range. No asymmetry. Outflow tracts are clear.”

Elio exhales beside me.

She turns to us and smiles. “This is good news, guys. The heart looks beautiful. No signs of hypertrophic changes, no structural abnormalities. Everything is developing as it should.”

“You’re sure?” I ask, the words just kind of slipping out before I can stop them.

“I’m sure. I’ll want one more follow-up in the third trimester, but based on what I’m seeing today, this baby has a healthy heart.”

Elio makes a sound beside me. When I look at him his eyes are teary but he’s grinning. “That’s super promising.”

“It is.” I nod.

“After everything with Fabio, I was really scared.” He looks guilty. “I didn’t want to say how scared I was because I didn’t want to make you scared.”

I bring his hand to my mouth. “We were feeling the same thing.”

“You’d have to be robots not to be nervous.” Dr. Vasquez smiles. “Okay, now, since I have a good view, would you like to know the sex?”

Elio and I both blurt, “No, thank you.”

She laughs. “All right. I’m going to adjust the angle, so look away for a moment.”

We both look up at the ceiling.

Once the camera is safely not showing the sex of the baby, the doctor lets us look at the fetus some more. When that’s done, she prints two images and hands them to Elio. In one, the baby’s profile is clear: the nose, the forehead, the suggestion of cheekbones. In the other, a small hand is extended, fingers spread, reaching.

That night I stand at the window of our bedroom while Elio sleeps. The grounds are quiet, the garden stripped bare, frost glittering on the stone paths under the security lights. December in Sorrento Bay is cold and sharp.

For some reason my father and Adriano are on my mind tonight. My father wasn’t a warm man, but I’d always known he loved me. He was a hard but good father. I wonder what sort of father Adriano would have been. Would he have been a better father than I’ll be? Warmer? More open?

Being with Elio has forced me to look at how I grew up. What life was like from the moment I was old enough to know things. Like me, my child will grow up in a home where the study has a safe bolted to the floor. He’ll grow up in a home where the windows are made of reinforced glass and where his driver carries a loaded weapon. My child will grow up knowing that, while the Foschini name attracts power, it also attracts envy and danger. Sometimes I wish I’d been born into different circumstances, but this was the hand I was dealt. If my life hadn’t played out the way it has, I might not have met Elio.

Elio shifts in bed behind me, mumbling in his dreams. He’s just having normal dreams these days. The bad dreams seem to have stopped. Had he been having those awful dreams because he’d somehow been channeling Salvatore’s evil intentions? Had he subconsciously picked up on the threat? I guess I’ll never know.

Elio mumbles some more and I glance over, smiling. My heart warms at the sight of him tangled in the sheets, flushed from sleep. Growing up, I was lonely. Adriano always had a lot of friends, but I really only had Carlo. Since meeting Elio, I no longer feel lonely. Ever. I feel loved. Accepted. Cherished. They’re all new feelings for me. Even though my parents loved me dearly, there was always the feeling that love came with strings. Expectations to perform my duties.

I know that Elio will love me always, even if I sometimes fail. And I will fail. I won’t always be the best husband or father that I can be. But perhaps what matters is that you keep trying to be the best. Even if you never achieve perfection, so long as you keep striving to be the best you can be for those you love, perhaps that’s enough.

I get back into bed and Elio immediately wraps himself around me. I smile, heart aching, and hold him tight, kissing his hair softly. This was what I’d been missing my entire life. Now I have it and I’ll die before I lose it.

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