Page 15 of The Devil's Demise

“That’s right.” Jade picks up her drink and lifts it in the air.

We do the same, clanking our glasses together with happiness radiating through us, like a burst of light, shining over the once-cloudy skies.

I don’t know how long we talk for, but before we know it, Sonia is bringing out a cake made of white fondant, decorated with yellow stars and a sleeping baby on top of it.

“It’s time!” she announces, placing it on the dessert table for Dom and me to cut into.

My heartbeats pound like crazy as Janet goes off to tell the guys to end their game.

When they return minutes later, Dom reaches for my hand and squeezes it.

“You ready, baby girl?” His voice is warm and raspy against the space below my ear.

“I think so.”

In this moment, I think about my mom. It seems like she’s there with me at every big moment in my life. Every pregnancy, every birth, every time I’m sad or happy, I start to think of her as though she’s standing right beside me.

Maybe she is. Maybe we just can’t see those we love once they pass, even when they’re right in front of us.

Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet, my hand still tucked in Dom’s as we head toward the dessert table adorned with rustic flowers. Everyone gathers around us.

“I still got a shot at becoming the favorite uncle with this one,” Enzo throws out.

“You wish,” Matteo says on a chuckle, gathering Aida to his side, with Enzo and Jade beside them.

“Gianni. Frankie. Come on, boys,” Dom calls. “We’re going to find out if you two are having a brother or a sister.”

They drop their cement trucks that Matteo and Aida got them and run to us, their toothy grins bright and full of youthful excitement.

“Who you got? Boy or girl?” Dante kneels, asking Frankie.

He twists his mouth around and looks up at me with a smile. “A girl.”

“All right.” Dante nods, his mouth quirking up, then turns to Gianni. “And you?”

“A brother.” He crosses his tiny arms over his chest and lifts his chin in the air.

Dante rises with a laugh, ruffling Gianni’s hair. “You’re gonna love the baby no matter what.”

“Only if she likes cars.” He narrows a mean stare.

That gets us all laughing as I pick up the knife on the table, my pulse thundering wildly in my throat. My entire body vibrates with excitement.

Dom places his hands over mine, and my gaze wanders to my husband’s, unsure how with each growing year I love him more. It’s as though my heart grows to fit all this love I’ve been lucky to have.

As we place the knife against the cake, I think of my mother, who never got to see her child grow up, and I hope that I get to have that chance. That I can live to see my babies get older, to experience the kind of relationship I have with their father. Because everyone deserves that, to feel the epic kind of love. The kind that grows. The kind that doesn’t wither your soul away, but helps it soar. And with Dom, I fly. I leap. And I know if I fall, he’ll be there to catch me.

“I’m ready,” I tell him with a deep breath.

With his nod, we drop the knife into the cake as slowly as possible, like we don’t want this moment to end.

“It’s pink!” Frankie yells from beside me. “It’s pink!”

I gasp, staring at the first sight of the filling.

A girl. Oh my God.

My eyes water over, my throat clogging up with emotions as we drop the knife and look at one another.

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