“Fancy meeting you here, stranger,” Abigail teased at the sight of one of her dearest friends wobbling through Romeo De Salvo’s entryway. She hadn’t been entirely sure either half of the couple would make it, considering how heavily pregnant Felicity was.
Felicity made a bitter laughing sound and dramatically rolled her eyes. “I finally had to tell Cristiano if he didn’t at least let me come to this meeting—whatever it is—I was going to turn on every faucet in the house and flood it until the water carried me out the door.”
Cristiano slid the lightweight coat off his wife’s shoulders with a low rumble. “I don’t give a shit about the house, Foxglove. It can be rebuilt.” He nodded to Abigail. “How’s Sakurako?” It hadn’t come as any kind of surprise that Cristiano was an overly protective, hovering husband with his wife’s first pregnancy. He seemed to think the world itself was a threat to her and would much prefer to hide her away, but Felicity craved companionship, so occasionally these arguments happened.
Abigail had come to understand both of them well enough to know any frustration she heard was only born of concern for the other, so it was easy to smile and let her gaze slide down the hall, in the direction Ryoma had disappeared with their five-month-old daughter. “We’re actually sleeping a little, finally. I think that means she’s doing well.” Abigail was by no means an expert on raising a child, and she was downright embarrassed for all the times she’d called Iris or Grace for help, but it had been nice to have the support.
It was even nicer to think that her daughter would grow up surrounded by a community, a family, that loved and defended her like doing those things was as natural as breathing.
“That’s good to hear.” Cristiano offered what Abigail suspected was supposed to be a grin. “Can’t have my right-hand pulling the trigger on no sleep.”
“Right, becausethat’sthe issue here,” Abigail said.
Felicity shoved at him and turned a smile out to her. “Can I hold her before we leave? I haven’t seen her in weeks. And I need practice.”
“Absolutely.”
Grace laughed as she came up to join them. “I really doubt you need practice.” She curled an arm around Abigail’s shoulders in a sideways hug, then motioned them all down the hall. “Eleonora’s doing the babysitting for all the little ones that aren’t onboard—” She pointedly tapped at her own faintly swollen belly. “The rest of us are supposed to rendezvous in the office.”
Rapid footfalls belied her words and everyone smiled as a familiar young girl’s excited cry reached their ears. “Uncle Cris!”
“Here we go,” Felicity said softly, the biggest smile on her lips.
Cristiano stepped forward, around Grace and Abigail, and lifted Lucia De Salvo off the floor in a swooping gesture. “You’re lucky you have high ceilings, Lucy,” he said as she squealed with laughter.
“Part of me is afraid she’s never going to grow out of that,” Grace whispered as they watched him spin the nine-year-old into an above-ground planking-like position.
Abigail rested a hand on Grace’s arm. “Don’t worry. Sooner or later, she’ll discover other ways to fly.”
Felicity snorted.
Grace bit her lips in an effort to hide her laughter before finally saying, “I think Romeo would actually shoot you for that.”
Cristiano set the girl down after several seconds and patted her on the back. “Say hello to your aunts and then go back to Grandma El. She’s going to need help with the babies.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Vitto’s not really a baby anymore, is he?”
“Close enough.”
Lucy gave them all a hug, kissed Felicity’s stomach, and skipped back through the house. By the time she was done, Ryoma was rejoining them.
He arched a brow at the scene. “Still in the foyer? I thought I took forever.”
Abigail shuffled up to her husband’s side. “You did. We’re moving slow. How is she?”
“Wide-eyed and cleaned up, for the time being,” Ryoma said. He pressed a kiss to her temple and settled a hand in the dip of her waist as he looked around. “Are we waiting on anyone else?”
Grace shook her head. “Everyone’s here.”
“Let’s not keep the boss waiting, then,” Ryoma said, sweeping his free arm down the other hall in offer of letting their hostess lead the way.
Cristiano moved up to his wife’s side even as Felicity laughingly said, “We can all blame me. I’m like fifty months pregnant and feel like everything’s new again.”
Ryoma chuckled. “Go figure. You move down to earth like the rest of us and promptly disappear.” He only laughed more at the scowl Cristiano shot his way.
Abigail joined the laughter, keeping pace with her husband as they filed down the hall. Her gaze dropped, just for a moment, to the tattoo on her left ring finger. When they’d gotten married, they’d decided not to go the traditional route with rings that could be lost or destroyed. Instead, Abigail had suggested tattoos—one more for him, and one for her—tattoos that wrapped around the base of their ring fingers,forever marking them. The mark on his finger was a ringlet ofsakurasoupetals, in a beautiful, striking violet. Hers was a series of kanji, chosen and carefully scribed by her husband, which spelled his name.
She quite liked having something of him forever branding her skin.
Abigail pulled her focus outward as the office door swung open and Iris’s warm greeting drifted out. She didn’t know what the purpose of this meeting was, exactly, but ultimately it didn’t matter. She knew enough. She knew she was where she was meant to be, where shewantedto be. The men and women who filled her life were so vastly different from the ones she’d known years before. Her old life had been a job. This … this was a family.
The End
