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My mother’s gasp, a hand flying to her mouth in surprise, is followed by a joyous exclamation, her eyes brimming with tears.
My father, ever the stoic figure, breaks into a wide grin, the kind that reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face.
“Rafael, my boy,” my father says, clasping my shoulder with a firm grip that conveys his pride and happiness. “You’ve given us the greatest gift. A grandchild. This is wonderful news.”
A frown forms on his face. “I was wrong about you marrying into the families. I see how happy you two are and I admit I was wrong.”
He shakes my hand before giving me a hug. “A grandchild at last,” he whispers in my ear. “Took you fucking long enough.”
EPILOGUE
AMELIA
Five years later…
It’s a glorious summer afternoon, the kind that feels like a warm embrace, and our backyard is a canvas of joy and familial warmth.
Rafael is manning the barbecue, his father by his side, both engrossed in the task of grilling, their laughter mingling with the sizzle of the meat.
Their relationship was characterized by a tense but mutual respect, but my father-in-law has mellowed since he saw his son settle down.
Retirement suits him, and he’s a devoted grandfather, with more patience for our children than he had for his own.
I’m sitting at the garden table with my mother, watching the scene unfold.
The air between us is filled with the comfortable silence of understanding, a bond strengthened by the trials we’ve weathered together.
“You know,” I begin, my gaze drifting to the children splashing in the paddling pool, “I still think about Dad sometimes. About how different our lives are now since he passed.”
Mom nods, her eyes soft with the kind of wisdom that comes from facing life’s harshest truths.
“Some people hold you back, Amelia,” she says, her voice gentle. “And others... they pull you forward.”
Her gaze shifts to the grandchildren, their laughter a balm to any lingering sorrow.
“Rafael, for example,” she adds, a smile curving her lips as the kids start dragging their father toward the paddling pool. “Or should I say Ricardo and Francesca pullhimforward?”
I watch the twins dragging him to the edge of the pool as he pretends to protest. Mia joins us, fresh from her latest round of medical exams.
“Sorry I’m late,” she says.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“It’s hard work,” she admits, sinking into a chair with a sigh, “but worth every moment. We dissected cadavers last week. It was awesome.”
She picks up a bottle of beer from the icebox and takes a sip. “Oh, and your posters for the fundraiser look amazing. You sure you don’t me to pay you for them?”
“I think I can treat my sister once in a while. Plus, if I ever get anything life threatening, you can fix me. Call it quits.”
Gianni strides over, a tennis racket in hand. “Care for a game, Mia?” he asks, his challenge met with Mia’s competitive grin. “Or too busy talking about slicing up dead bodies?”
“I can spare the time to whup your ass,” she replies.
Rafael, still in his suit, announces he’s the sea monster, diving into the paddling pool with a splash that sends waves of laughter through the air.
His willingness to immerse himself fully in the joy of the moment fills my heart with an indescribable warmth.
Watching him play with our children, his laughter mingling with theirs, I’m reminded of the beauty of our life together, of the love that binds us.
