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“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“Fair enough.” I slipped my arm around her waist as we continued our stroll.
Our last stop was the Spanish Steps, where I’d arranged for a private moment just for us. It had taken weeks of planning and more strings pulled than I cared to admit, but when we arrived, the normally crowded steps were empty, lit softly by lanterns.
“Dante,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the sight.
“Happy anniversary.” I guided her to the top step, where a small table had been set up with dessert—two slices of rich chocolate cake and a bottle of champagne on ice.
She turned to me, her expression full of wonder. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Yes, I did,” I assured her.
Her eyes glistened, and for a moment, I thought she might cry, but she just smiled and took my hand as we sat down together.
As we settled into our seats, I reached for the champagne, twisting the bottle open with a quiet pop. But when I started pouring, Elysa placed her hand over her glass and stopped me.
“None for me.”
I paused, the bottle hovering in midair. “Are you okay? You’ve been avoiding wine all night.”
She bit her lip, a flicker of nerves crossing her face before she smiled. “I was waiting for the right moment to tell you.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I set the bottle down, suddenly unable to focus on anything but her because I suspected what she was going to say to me. “Tell me what?”
She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. Her fingers trembled slightly, but her smile was steady, radiant.
“I’m pregnant, Dante.” She sounded both excited and apprehensive.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The world around us seemed to fade, the city, the lanterns, the marble steps—all of it disappearing until there was nothing but Elysa and the words she’d just spoken.
“You’re... pregnant?” I repeated, as if saying it aloud would make it feel real.
She nodded, her eyes searching mine nervously. “Yes. I took a test this morning and…made Dr. Dinapoli confirm with a blood test in the afternoon.”
I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest. And then, before I could stop myself, I laughed—this wild, disbelieving laugh that echoed off the empty steps.
She blinked, her brows knitting together. “Am I to assume you’re happy with the news?”
I got up from my chair and walked around the table, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her in my arms. “Immeasurably! Though happy may be too mild a word to describe how I feel.”
She let out a shaky laugh, her hands clutching at my shirt.
I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Elysa, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. To us.”
Her smile broke into a laugh, and I kissed her right there at the top of the Spanish Steps, with the city of Rome spread out before us like a blessing.
THIRTY-SIX
Dante
There were children in our villa! The proof was in the laughter, shrieks, and the unmistakable chaos that comes with having four children running around the house.
I couldn’t have imagined five years ago, when Elysa and I married, that my life could be this fulfilling.
After we had our first child, we moved from the flat to a villa in Monteverde Vecchio, a quiet neighborhood perched on Janiculum Hill. We were still in Rome but with more space, tree-lined streets, and terraces that overlooked the city. The sunsets were still spectacular.
Dean sat cross-legged on the floor of our living room with my three-year-old son, Matteo, perched on his lap. He was trying tohelphim assemble a ridiculously complicated train set. Dean patiently explained to Matteo why the tracks needed to fit a certain way, but Matteo wasn’t having it.