“I’ve been dealing with family things,” he said, drinking a slow sip of his wine and gazing out the large window. When he finally set the glass on the table, he peered over at me and offered a small, almost-shy smile. “But of course I do. I’d love to have them with you too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” he said, not an ounce of regret on his face.
“Well …” I whispered, heart racing. My cheeks tingled, and I found myself lost for words as I pulled out a picture of the ultrasound that I’d had this morning before sliding it across the table, hoping for the best.
His eyes widened as he looked at the image and then up at me. “Is this …”
“Ours? Yes.”
“And you want to keep it?”
“Of course I do, Constantino.”
An unreadable expression crossed his face, and then … a tear slipped down his cheek. “You really do? After everything that has happened to you in this family within the last few months, you want to be a family with us? With me?”
I leaned forward to brush the tear off his cheek. It was rare for Constantino to cry and even rarer that it happened in public. But I didn’t mind it in the slightest.
“I promise … you’ll never be in danger like that again,” he murmured.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I whispered. “I’ll be with you either way.”
“I mean it,” he said with so much assurance on his face that I couldn’t not believe him. He sat up a bit taller, as if this was the best decision of his life. “I’m going to step down as boss in a couple of months, before Laila gives birth. I had my doubts about it, but I’m sure now.” He gently took my chin in his hand and pulled me closer. “I have a family to protect.”
“Goddamn, I love you, Constantino Buratti.”
He took my left hand from across the table and drew his thumb across my knuckles. “I want to marry you too,” he murmured. “I know Laila would like to have you be part of our family officially, but I don’t know how that would look. A traditional wedding? A ceremony for us? Would you like that?”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered.
He leaned across the table and brushed the tear off my cheek, like I had just done to him only moments ago. “No tears,” he ordered, gently cupping my chin. “You deserve more than we could ever give you. You’ve made both Laila and me so fucking happy, Sage.”
“Sometimes, I … I still worry that I cause more drama than—”
Before I could finish my sentence, he snapped my mouth closed. “Don’t even think that.” He slowly released his grip on my chin and took my hand again. “Promise me that you won’t think that, and if we act that way, then you fucking tell us so we can fix it, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
His lips curled into a soft smile. “And I promise that we’ll cherish you forever, Sage Stonewell.”