Luciano: Epilogue

Our home backyard was draped in silence, as we listened to the priest’s words, blessing our baby girl. Our little Francesca Aria Vitale, named after my mother and Grace’s. Dark hair framed her little face, matching her big brother’s and mine. But it was her eyes that had everyone falling all over themselves. She had her mother’s beautiful eyes.

My wife. I’d never get sick and tired of saying those two words. She cradled our daughter in her arms, her small body leaning against mine. I studied my wife’s rosy cheeks and ginger red hair strands flying with the light breeze.

This woman was my beginning, my middle, and my end. She was my whole life. This family, blood and non-blood, was what this life was about.

“You are staring at me,” she whispered under her breath, so only I could hear it.

“You love when I watch you.”

And her wide smile was my confirmation. I’d never tire of watching her soft smile and happiness on her beautiful face.

The christening ceremony for our new addition was perfect. Nonno and Matteo practically shone like lightbulbs. My father must have taken some kind of reverse aging cream because I swore he looked better and younger each day. He swore it was happiness and our family.

Vasili and his wife, along with their one-year-old son were here with us, as well as Alessio, Nico, Luca, Alexei, and Raphael.

The priest called for the godfather to step in. I was surprised when Grace suggested Cassio for the godfather, knowing her aversion to the King family.

“He is your best friend,” she murmured. “Ella is my best friend. She is Matteo’s godparent. It is only fair, your best friend is Francesca’s.”

Needless to say, Cassio was shocked as well. There might have been a slight resemblance of a tear in his eyes. I wasn’t sure.

Grace gently handed our daughter to Cassio and smiled.

“Protect my baby,” she joked.

“With my life,” he vowed. And I knew he would.

As the priest recited the verses, my wife’s hand found mine and our fingers interlocked. Her eyes were on Francesca, watching her like a lioness. She protected the ones she loved with all her might, and it made me love her even more.

“May almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit bless you Francesca Aria Vitale.”

The cheer sounded off, and Grace’s proud smile breathed life into my chest. No matter what life had in store for us, she would always be my rock, my flame.

Francesca’s tiny body looked even smaller in Cassio’s arms. He looked like a big bear worried about hurting its cub. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight and laugh when my father snapped the picture of the two of them, and Cassio warned him he’d wake up the baby.

I nuzzled my face into my wife’s neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent always calmed me, grounded me.

“You know, husband,” she whispered, “we could sneak out for a little romp.”

My chest shook with the laugh I was trying to hold back. Though her words always managed to surprise me, I wasn’t going to bring attention to ourselves. I was all about rutting and romping my wife.

“I married an insatiable woman.” I gently nipped her earlobe.

“But you love it,” she murmured. “And I love you, Luciano Vitale.”

“I love you, mio Tesoro. From the moment I spotted you.”

“All the way then, huh?”

“Yes, my love.” This woman could single handedly bring me to my knees. “You are mine, Grace. You’ve been mine from the moment you took your first breath. And you’ll be mine when you take your last breath.”

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