Page 17

SAL

When Salvatore was little, he would wake us up before dawn on Christmas morning. After Nerissa became part of our family, Ilaria made it a point to wake our daughter that early with her stocking.

She said Nerissa deserved to know the magic of Christmas morning.

Now, it's just us and the sun hasn't broken the Eastern horizon, but I'm awake.

Ilaria's warm body is curved around me, her head pillowed on my chest. We used to sleep like this all the time, but as the years went on, we stopped.

Having her close like this is a privilege I will never take for granted again.

Grabbing the blue satin stocking from the bedside table where I left it late last night, I place it on top the covers where my wife will see it as soon as she opens her eyes. She doesn't wake for another hour and I enjoy every minute of holding her in the quiet.

"Mmm…" Ilaria rubs her cheek against my chest. "Such a nice way to wake up, hearing your heartbeat."

I instruct the lights to turn on at 50% through our smart speaker. As the room illuminates, Ilaria stops moving and then sits up with the eagerness of a child.

"You got me a stocking!"

"I get you one every year."

"But after Salvatore was old enough to know the difference, you put mine out with his on the fireplace."

"As you did mine." We'd stopped filling them with naughty things then too.

It wouldn't do for our son to see his mother pull a pair of silk lined handcuffs from her stocking, would it?

"I…yours is still hanging on the fireplace."

"Thank you. It's a good tradition."

She pulls her stocking to her and peeks in the top. "I like this one better."

The fuzzy socks that will keep her feet warm when she's reading in her favorite chair in the corner of our room are a bigger hit than the diamond earrings I gave her our first Christmas as man and wife.

I learned quickly that Ilaria isn't particularly fond of jewelry, wearing it like she does her designer clothes. As part of her uniform.

Next a small box of her favorite truffles from Switzerland comes out and she immediately pops one in her mouth before pulling out the small gift box.

Inside is a key.

"What's this for?" she asks.

"I sold the house in Martha's Vinyard."

Her eyes widen. "Why?"

"Because when we go on vacation together, there shouldn't be mafia business attached to it." Hell, I conducted business in Sicily when we were on our honeymoon.

I have a lot of missed opportunities to make up for and as a consigliere and not a capo, I can make the time to do that.

Tears sparkle in her beautiful eyes and she blinks them away. "What's the key to then?"

"A house on the coast of Portugal. There are no Cosa Nostra ties in Lisbon."

"You're taking me on vacation?" she asks, sounding shocked.

"Yes. For a month. We leave the day after New Years so you get all the holidays with the family, but then it's just us."

She drops the stocking and stares at me. "Just us? For a month?"

"No."

Before she can look too disappointed, I push her back onto the bed and pin her beneath me. "For the rest of our lives just us is my top priority."

"I love you, marito mio ."

"And that makes me a very lucky man. You might have felt like embracing La Fuitana , but I'm so glad you went through with our wedding."

Ilaria looks confused and then her eyes warm. "If I'd run away, it would have been from the love of my life, I just didn't know it then. I'm glad I let my parents force me into marrying you too."

We both laugh a little at that, but I can only be grateful I never followed through on my plans to arrange a marriage for our daughter. She deserves the man of her dreams. I grateful with everything left of my tarnished soul that I turned out to be that man for the woman who makes my heart beat.

"I love you now and into eternity, Ilaria De Luca. Even death will not separate us. Our souls will wander the heavens together."

We're late for Christmas dinner with the family at Angelo's, but spending the morning in bed with my wife is worth it.