Chapter Forty

Stephen

^Six months later…^

Six months had passed since our little ones arrived. Nate and Livy were perfect in every way.

Every time I looked at them, my love for my wife deepened. She had given me more than anyone else ever had.

I had just woken up and headed downstairs to find my babies enjoying tummy time. Their momma bear was on the couch, watching them play and sipping her coffee.

I approached my doll from behind and squatted down, resting my head on her shoulder. I turned my face into her neck, kissing and licking softly. She brought her hand up and ran her nails through my hair.

“Mm, good morning, momma bear.”

“Morning, daddy.”

I wrapped my arms over the couch and around her upper chest, continuing to kiss her neck. I nudged her neck with my nose to get better access.

Hearing my doll purr, I instinctively held her a little tighter.

“Daddy, mm, I can never get enough of your touch.”

I gently tugged on her earlobe, sucking it into my mouth and nibbling on it.

“I can never get enough of you,” I moaned.

I'd had a raging hard-on for my wife for weeks now.

Something changes in a man when he sees the woman he loves transform from a goddess he's lucky to be married to, into the mother of his children.

I look at my wife and can't help but think, ~You’re amazing.~

That's a phrase I've repeated so many times over the last six months since our little ones were born that it's become almost automatic.

You'd think that by using it so often, it would lose its meaning. That the sounds and syllables would get jumbled, turning into unfamiliar nonsense, like when you repeat a word over and over out loud.

But it's never felt that way. I've meant it every time I've said it; it's never lost its weight.

I knew my wife was amazing from the moment I met her. Her strength and resilience never cease to amaze me. I know she'll roll her eyes when I say it, but she inspires me.

Some days, I'm just amazed she puts up with me. She amazed me as we grew throughout our relationship and she continues to amaze me every day.

I meant it when I asked her to marry me, and I meant it the day she walked down the aisle to marry me.

I meant it the first time I called her Mrs. Gotti.

I meant it when I said it to her while she was in labor. I meant it while I held her hand through the labor, even though I was terrified.

I meant it when I laid eyes on my children for the first time and told them they were amazing. I meant it when she gave me our children to give them their first kisses.

I meant it while she recovered, while she held our babies for the first time and while she nursed them. They weren't even a day old and she put our children's well-being before her own.

I meant it when she insisted I climb into the hospital bed with the three of them—despite the pain she was in—so the four of us could have a moment.

I meant it the first time she called us a family.

Now I mean it whenever our children cry and calm down the moment she holds them. I think about how amazing our children are every time they open their eyes and study my face.

She has been amazing through this whole process…

A process where I was essentially a spectator for eight months, and then got to claim my ~dadhood~ once it was all over.

I recognize just how lucky I am in that respect, and that, despite how easy she made it look, pregnancy and labor and birth are physically and emotionally taxing.

And I know she'd do it over again, without question, to make me happy and because I see the way she looks at our children.

It's a look that says she thinks they are amazing, although, maybe in the interest of not being as repetitive as I am, she'd choose a different superlative to describe them.

It's hard to explain childbirth and the subsequent transition to parenthood to anyone who hasn't gone through it but despite being something that thousands of people experience daily, it is still deeply personal.

These are our children.

This is our joy.

And when they were born we were the ones to welcome them into the world.

We're the ones who are filled with such an overwhelming sense of love when we see them. And while other people have children and experience that love, no one else has this.

No one else has her and I’m so thankful that I've had her by my side this whole time. Although, I think in terms of childbirth, it's really me by her side.

I'm so thankful I've gone on this journey with my doll.

I've watched her turn into a mother so quickly and skillfully, I've watched her fight through the pain to make sure our children are fed, attended to and loved.

I'm getting used to using that phrase, ~You're amazing~, all the time. I know she'll give me new reasons to use it every single day.

I know I'll never get tired of saying it and I know that it will never ever, ever lose its meaning.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel my wife's hand stroke my cheek. I look at her and she's looking back at me, confused.

“Sorry baby, I was daydreaming, did you say something?” I ask.

“Someone's at the door sweetheart, can you get it?”

“Of course.”

I get up and walk to our door.

As I'm walking down the hallway, I can see through the glass panels and I'm not impressed.

Opening the door, I speak before they can.

“What do you want?”

“Good morning Mr. Gotti,” Detective Peters flashes a smug grin. “I was wondering if your wife would be home.”

“She's busy with our children. Again, what the hell do you want?”

“I'm afraid that's not a matter that concerns you, Mr. Gotti. Now, may we speak with your wife?”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck you want.”

“Sir, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can ask your wife to come out and speak to us, or we can issue this warrant and come in.”

He waves a warrant in my face as if I’m going to care.

My voice rises in anger, “I ~asked you~ a ~question~!”

Trinity, hearing my fury, comes around the corner, a twin on each hip, to see what’s causing the uproar.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“Mrs. Gotti, I'm going to have to ask you to step outside, please.”

“No!” I shout. “Not until someone tells me what’s happening.”

“Alright, I'm asking one more time before we issue this warrant and we enter. Mrs. Gotti, please step outside.”

I watch as she moves closer and I position myself between her and the detective. A wave of nausea hits me as my mind starts to race, realizing what’s unfolding.”

“Baby, it's okay,” Trinity murmurs gently. “Think of our kids, please. They don't need to see cops storming into our home to take their mom.”

I look at her, my heart shattering into countless pieces as she hands our children to me. My eyes beg her.

“I love you. Call Clint and Mia, then call Benji,” she instructs.

“Baby…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I love all three of you.”

“Now, Mrs. Gotti.”

If looks could kill, this asshole would be dead on my doorstep right now.

“I love you momma bear, we all do.” I kiss my wife as I feel my world collapsing beneath me.

I watch as she steps out and Detective Peters pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

“Mrs. Gotti, you’re under arrest for the murder of DEA Special Agent Mike Suarez. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law you have the right to an attor…”

I don't hear anything else. I drop to my knees, clutching onto my children as if my life depends on it, as my world is ripped apart.

^End of Book Two^