Page 83 of Thawed Gladiator: Varro

Aurelia nods enthusiastically, and I can’t help but marvel at the scene. Varro, once a man out of time, now moves through our modern world with an ease that still amazes me. He’s traded his gladiator’s armor for jeans and a t-shirt, and is working on a final draft of a book about his life.

As he leads Aurelia to the jar where she’s been keeping her “discoveries” from this trip, I’m struck by what an incredible father he’s become. Patient, nurturing, and always ready with a story or lesson from his unique perspective on history.

“Papa, tell me again about the big round building we saw yesterday!” Aurelia pleads as Varro scoops her up.

“The Colosseum?” Varro’s eyes meet mine over Aurelia’s head, and I see no pain or longing, just a quiet pride. “Well, my little warrior, it was once the greatest arena in all of Rome…”

I listen as Varro weaves a tale for our daughter, his voice animated and full of wonder. Gone is the man who once wept at the sight of ruins on my phone screen. In his place stands a person who has not only accepted his new reality but embraced it wholeheartedly.

Later, as we stroll through the Forum, Aurelia skipping ahead and chattering excitedly about every stone and column, Varro’s hand finds mine. His touch, warm and familiar, sends a flutter through my chest—a reminder that even after all this time, my love for him has only grown deeper.

“By Jupiter, you look beautiful in the light of the seventh hour,” he murmurs, his eyes taking in the forum around us. “It’s so strange to see part of thetemplumof Saturn still standing after all this time.”

His thumb traces circles on my cheek as he asks, “Happy?”

I lean into him, breathing in the scent that’s become home to me. “Incredibly,” I reply, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

As I watch Varro crouch to explain some architectural detail to our eager daughter, I’m filled with a profound sense of gratitude. Our journey hasn’t always been easy, but every challenge, every obstacle we’ve overcome has led us here—to this moment of pure, simple joy.

The future stretches out before us, full of possibilities. There’s still so much to discover, so many adventures to be had. But right now, in the heart of the city that shaped Varro’s past, I’m content to simply be present in this moment with the family we’ve built.

Varro catches my eye and winks, that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore sparkling in his gaze. And I know, with absolute certainty, that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together—just as we always have.

Varro

The scent of coffee mingling with fresh pastries wafts through the air as I navigate the narrow streets of Rome, Aurelia’s small hand clasped firmly in mine. Laura walks ahead, her golden hair catching the morning light, and I’m struck anew by how beautiful she is—not just in form, but in spirit.

“Papa, look! A fountain!” Aurelia tugs at my hand, pointing excitedly at the Trevi Fountain coming into view.

“Indeed, little one,” I chuckle, lifting her onto my shoulders for a better view. “This wasn’t here when I lived here before. Compared to me, it’s young.”

Aurelia giggles, having no awareness that I’m a walking fossil.

“Shall we make a wish?”

Laura turns, her smile radiant, and for a moment, I’m transported back to that island where our journey began. How far we’ve come since then, how much has changed. And yet, the love I feel for this woman, my anchor in this strange new world, has only grown stronger with each passing day.

As we approach the fountain, I’m hit by a wave of memories. I remember my first glimpse of Rome as a young slave, the awe Ifelt at its grandeur and my fear of what fate had in store for me. Now, centuries later, I stand here not as a captive, but as a free man, with a family of my own.

“What should we wish for, Papa?” Aurelia’s voice pulls me from my reverie.

I pretend to think hard, tapping my chin. “Hmm, perhaps for your mother to let us have gelato for breakfast?”

Laura rolls her eyes, but her laughter rings out, clear and joyous. “Nice try, you two. How about we wish for more wonderful adventures together?”

“Yes!” Aurelia claps her hands. “More ‘ventures!”

As we toss our coins into the fountain, I’m overwhelmed by a sense of belonging. This city, once the center of my world, now feels both familiar and foreign. But it no longer brings the pain of loss or the ache of displacement. Instead, I feel a quiet pride in sharing my knowledge with my daughter, in seeing the wonder in her eyes as she connects with a history that’s part of her heritage.

We spend the morning exploring, my mind constantly amazed at how seamlessly I now navigate between past and present. I point out ancient sites to Aurelia, explaining their significance, while also marveling at the modern world that has grown up around them. The juxtaposition no longer feels jarring—it’s simply part of the rich tapestry of life I’ve come to embrace.

By midday, we find ourselves in a small piazza, resting on the steps of a centuries-old church. Aurelia is contentedly munching on a panino, while Laura leans against me, her head on my shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, her voice soft.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, my fingers absently playing with a strand of her hair. “I’m thinking about how grateful I am,” I finally reply. “For you, for Aurelia, for this life we’ve built together.”

Laura tilts her head up, her eyes searching mine. “No regrets? No longing for what was?”

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