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“I was born here,”I tell Benny when we step into the hospital elevator. “Room 503.”
“No shit?” He hits the5button on the panel. “Me too.”
I playfully shove his shoulder as the elevator doors close. “You just made that up.”
He holds my gaze and shakes his head. “My father has Gigi’s and my delivery room numbers tatted on him. I was 503. Hers was 507.”
I smile, loving that we share yet another connection. As if from the very beginning, the world knew we belonged in the same place.
The elevator dings, and we step into the quiet lobby. Light classical music plays from the overhead speakers. The doors leading into the maternity wing are locked. A nurse buzzes us in after we provide a pin number and give her our names.
When we reach their room, I softly knock on the door. Cristian answers and steps to the side, allowing us to come in. The lights are dimmed, and Natalia’s lying in the hospital bed with Enzo snuggled in her arms. She lazily smiles at us.
She looks exhausted, but she’s also glowing.
Benny and I wash our hands before we head toward Natalia. Enzo doesn’t make a sound. My husband pays his new brother a quick glance before strolling toward the couch and sitting. Cristian returns to Natalia’s side. He stands next to her like he’s their bodyguard.
“Do you want to hold him?” Natalia asks, her voice subdued.
Cristian frowns, as if he doesn’t want anyone else touching his son.
“Oh, stop.” Natalia rolls her eyes at him. “Cristian is just on the protective side today.”
I shoot Cristian a nervous glance, and he replies with a curt nod.
“All right, my new brother-in-law,” I coo. “Come here.”
“How about you have a seat, and I’ll bring him to you?” Cristian suggests, like I’m a child holding a baby for the first time.
I sit next to Benny and make myself comfortable on the couch. Cristian cradles Enzo against his chest and pays extra attention to supporting his head.
If Cristian had his way, I don’t think anyone but Natalia and he would be allowed to hold Enzo. I don’t take it personally. It’s a Marchetti thing. I know if he didn’t fully trust me, he’d flat-out tell me no. Just like with everything, Cristian Marchetti has his reservations.
He delicately places Enzo in my arms and waits to make sure I’m holding him properly before walking back to Natalia.
Enzo is a Marchetti through and through.
I carefully lift Enzo’s hat to see his hair. He skipped the peach-fuzz phase and has nearly a full head of dark hair.
“Hi, baby Enzo,” I say, running a finger over his button nose. “I’m your sister-in-law, Neomi.” I tip my head toward Benny. “And he’s your big brother.”
When I glance at Benny, he’s focused on me.
Almost as if in a trance.
His body is still, and on his face is the softest expression I’ve ever seen from him.
He doesn’t introduce himself back to his brother or say a simplehi. He stays quiet, watching me intensely, as I speak baby talk, run a finger over Enzo’s chubby arms, and repeatedly tell Cristian and Natalia how adorable he is.
“Do you want to hold him?” I finally ask Benny.
His gaze darts from me to Enzo. When it returns to me, he chews on the inside of his lip. There’s vulnerability on his face I’ve never witnessed on him.
“I’ve never held a baby before,” he explains.
I smile. “Every single person who’s held a baby had a time when they didn’t before.”
