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The Oak isquiet on a Wednesday night. I squeeze Renata’s hand as we head through the lobby, past that magical tree, angling toward the bar. She slows her pace, staring up at the branches, at the leaves, and pauses before we pass through into the next room. “You know, when you first brought me here, I thought this was all a dream.”
“You did not.” I punch her arm lightly. “See, very much awake.”
She swats me away. “I’m serious. Think about my life before you came along. My parents abandoned me, Grandpop raised me, Grandma passed away. We had no money and nothing nicer than whatever second-hand stuff we could dig out from Goodwill. Then Grandpop’s dying and I’m desperate for money—” She pauses, emotion flooding her voice. I wrap my arm around her, hugging her close.
Even now, six months after it all happened, she still chokes up every time she mentions him. She’ll carry the guilt of what happened with her for the rest of her life, and it’s part of my job to try to soothe that the best I can. To make her see that it wasn’t her fault.
In the same way that I’m dealing with my own demons.
“You’re not desperate anymore,” I say softly, prompting her.
“No, I’m not. But back then, I was, and this place seemed magical. It seemed… I don’t know, it seemed fake. Maybe even a little obscene. Like there’s all this wealth and beauty right here, and barely anyone gets to enjoy it.”
“That’s life,” I say, not sure how I feel about that reply.
She only shrugs. “Our standards are way too fucking low,” she murmurs, looking up into the branches of the tree. “If there’sthis.”
I squeeze her tightly. Neither of us speaks until she turns and kisses me gently.
“Ready?” I ask.
She brightens, nodding. “Ready,” she says.
The others are waiting for us already. Everyone’s here for the first time in a while: Evander with Camille, both of them down from Chicago and looking blissfully happy now that Camille’s pregnant again; Carmine with Brice, juggling a million things, still splitting time between Dallas and Philadelphia, though Dallas more often these days; Ford and Kat, drowning in children, going on number five soon enough; and Gareth with Fiona, sporting a much more modest three kids. The whole table stands as we enter the room, hugs and kisses going around, and I bask in the glow of being with my friends.
“You look good,” Evander says, squeezing my arm. “Does settled life suit you?”
“More than I thought,” I admit as the men retire to the bar together to refresh their drinks. I order a whiskey, neat.
“It’s not so bad, this domestic thing,” Ford says, grinning.
“You love it.” Carmine pushes his arm. “You’ve got a literal brood of whelps and buckets of money to take care of them all. Can’t really complain, can you?”
“Please, we’re all rich.” Ford’s beaming though, that proud father. “What about you, Lanzo? Now that you’ve finally closed on a house, are you thinking about populating it?”
I glance back at Renata. She’s busy laughing with Fiona over something, the other girls leaning in to share the joke. The five wives have grown closer than I ever dreamed they could, almost to the point where it feels like the men are all brothers, and the girls are all sisters. Like we’re one, massive family.
Which in some sense, we are. I’d die for any of them, and I know they’d die for me. Only the feeling is strange—after so long traveling so far, I never thought I’d find what I always needed back here in the States.
“Soon enough,” I say finally, grinning. “Going to enjoy the honeymoon phase first.”
Evander barks a laugh. “With the right woman, that phase never ends.”
“Cheers to that,” Gareth says, raising a glass. We toast each other, the five Atlas men, together at last.
* * *
“Are you happy with it?”Fiona asks after the meal’s finished. She attacks dessert while everyone else has an after-dinner drink. “The new place, I mean?”
“I love it,” Renata says, glancing at me. The look in her eyes makes my chest swell. “I never dreamed I’d have something like it, but here we are.”
“That’s the best feeling, isn’t it?” Camille grins at her. “Perks of being with an Atlas boy.”
“Among others,” Evander murmurs, kissing her cheek.
Gareth laughs, waving a cloth napkin at them. “Easy there, don’t get all weird in the middle of the Oak’s bar, please.”
“Speaking of getting weird, we were talking about Lanzo and Renata having children earlier. When’s the first baby coming?” Kat leans forward, fluttering her eyelashes at me. “Going to start tonight, are you?”
