Page 126 of Milo

"I'll take her outside," I offer, hoping Julia doesn't have a full-on meltdown. "I just need to change first."

"You are my hero, cara!" Julia pouts, running up to me and wrapping me in a hug. "Grazie! Grazie! Grazie!"

"Outside!" Natalia stumbles toward me and pulls on my sleeve. "Now! We go now!"

"Talia!" Antonia snaps, peering down at her granddaughter. "You are being very rude right now. Perhaps you should not go outside after all."

Natalia's bottom lip quivers. "But Nonna!"

"Apologize to Kiara and thank her for volunteering to play with you," Antonia demands, crossing her arms. "Well?"

Talia's bright blue glossy eyes meet mine as she blubbers, "I'm sorry, Kiki. Please take me outside. Please!"

"Can you wait two minutes while I go get dressed?" I ask, running my fingers through her fine hair. "Hmm?"

She nods, wiping her snotty nose. "Si."

"Good," I chuckle, glancing up at Julia. "I'll be back in two minutes, okay?"

Julia mouths thank you to me as I exit the library, Antonia's necklace held firmly in my palm. She's giving me her blessing. Literally. God, what am I supposed to do? Seriously. God, tell me what to do. Help me. Give me a sign. A signal.

Anything.

Knowing there's a temperamental toddler waiting for me, I quickly change out of my pajamas and into a sweater and jeans, slipping on a pair of black leather booties before heading back downstairs.

"Alright.” I zip up my jacket and hold out my hand to the jumping toddler. "Let's go!"

Natalia screams as we step into the courtyard. She darts to the woven box of toys, pulling out chalk, a jump rope, and bouncy balls. She hands me a piece of pink chalk. "Draw!"

"Yes ma'am," I chuckle, kneeling down beside her as we start doodling on the cobblestoned yard.

After playing with Natalia for over an hour, I've concluded that children have the attention span of goldfish. I am no longer of interest to Natalia as she has found a bug in the crevices of the stones that is far more entertaining than I am. Perching down on a stone table built into the courtyard, I watch Talia crawl on all fours as she tries to trap the bug with a plastic cup.

"She will be busy for hours." I whip my head to the side, Milo's decadent, deep voice filling my cold ears. "Good morning, Kiara," he says, striding toward me, two cups of coffee in his hand. "You must be cold."

"A little.” I take the large mug from his hands, warmth radiating off his body as he sits down beside me. "Thank you."

"Julia told me you volunteered to play with Talia.” He smiles at his niece, his expression glowing with affection. "That was very kind of you."

I blow on the coffee before taking a sip. "I like kids. I actually wanted to be a teacher when I was younger. Mold young minds, make macaroni necklaces, finger paint. That was a long time ago. Before—" I sigh. "Everything changed."

"Your parents?"

"My parents, my grandpa," I murmur, an ache in my heart. "I wanted to get an early childhood education degree, but I couldn't do it. I needed to stay with Nana. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, I figured one day I'd have kids of my own but—" I pause, shaking my head. "Well, you know."

I still remember how devastated I felt when my doctor informed me that my chances of getting pregnant are under five percent. At twenty years old, it's not something I was even thinking about, but to know it could never happen was soul-crushing. That day, my doctor took away a part of my future.

Milo places his mug on the bench and removes mine from my hands. "Do not look so sad, tesoro," he says, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. "There are many ways to have children."

“I know, but it's not the same.” I lean into his touch, his rough hand keeping me stable, upright, present. "Don't you want kids of your own?"

"I do.” His thumb grazes my temple, his rich dark eyes flickering across my face. "But I want you more."

"You shouldn't have to choose. Maybe this is a sign that we don't work. Maybe this wasn't meant to be."

"Nonsense.” He twines his fingers through mine. "Life is a constant series of choices, and I choose you. Kiara—" He caresses the underside of my wrist. "I love the reality of you more than the possibility of children. And in the future, if we wish to become parents, we will figure it out, together."

"Why do you want to marry me?" I bite my lip, searching for more reasons to leave, to get out, to spare myself more pain. "We haven't known each other that long. Is it because you're afraid I'll leave? Is that why you asked?"

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