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I’d been two months along at that point. Something I didn’t tell Massimo until the wedding night, after we’d said goodbye to all of our guests and gone to the hotel for the night before our flight in the morning.
I’d just given birth about three months before, and while I knew I was fully capable of having a weekend alone with our son, I was just not handling it well that he was gone.
I was so irrational that some part of me had leaped inside when I heard the doorbell ring, making me rush across the house to it, thinking that it was possibly Massimo, back to say he couldn’t go through with it, that he was going to stay home with us.
I knew, of course, that it could never happen. Massimo and his skillset were valuable to the family, and until someone came up who was as good—or better—he would have to go when the Family needed him to.
“Damn, you know how to make a man feel welcome,” Nicky said, brows raised as he took in the disappointment I knew was plastered all over my face.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I’m not happy to see you,” I said, waving him in. “It’s just…”
“You miss Massimo.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“How long has he been gone?”
“Oh, ah, three hours?” I said, making it sound like a guess when, in actuality, I knew it was exactly three hours, twenty-nine minutes, and fifteen seconds (and counting).
“And you thought he would be back already?”
“It’s stupid, but some small part of me was hoping he was going to say screw the job and just come home. No, don’t give me the sad eyes, I swear I’m fine. Just a little emotional.”
“I’m actually surprised to find you alone,” Nicky admitted, moving inside and waiting for me to lock the doors before following me into the kitchen.
“Not for long. Sofia is stopping over to bring Massimo’s stuff from the cleaners. Then Valley said she wants to come over and love on the baby after work. And, eventually, I know I can expect Giulia to drop by with food.”
I would be glad for the distraction. And the help.
I knew I could handle it on my own, but I was feeling a little vulnerable and upset, which the baby might pick up on, so having someone else to help would make a big difference.
“Is someone staying with you overnight?” Nicky asked, looking around the big, empty house with that brotherly frown that said he didn’t approve.
“I know there are going to be two guards. And I’m sure Giulia is going to just so happen to stay too late to go home. And conveniently have an overnight bag in the car.”
“I love that for you, Cams,” Nicky said.
“They’re you’re family now too,” I reminded him.
When he was around, he spent a lot of time around them. But Nicky wasn’t around as much as he used to be.
He’d flopped around from job to job for a bit after we both finally got free, a little lost, a little unsure about himself.
Eventually, though, he finally figured out what his future had in store for him.
He’d started a nonprofit meant to help keep kids in rough areas out of predatory gangs.
He wasn’t exactly rolling in it, but he was doing something that meant something to him, something he hoped would help keep kids like the one he used to be off the streets and out of the gangs.
He and his right-hand-woman ran the whole thing. They’d recently opened a community center thanks to the donations he’d collected from the Grassi Family.
“You know I love them,” he said. “But I love them for you the most. You deserved a family that would love and appreciate you.”
That was a little pointed.
We didn’t often speak—or even hint at—of the whole Lucas situation anymore.
We’d spent a lot of time dissecting it and coming to terms with it—both together and alone—for the first six months after it all went down.
