“If it’s any consolation, I do believe you when you say you loved your wife and your family. Ibelievethat you love Delphine. In fact, I almost… I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done.”
Suspicion wipes out his disbelief and takes over. He peers at me in the way you do a used car salesman.
He’s waiting for the trick. But there isn’t one—I’m being honest.
“Delphine’s your daughter. Your pride and joy. You felt an ownership over her. She was yours. Then I came in and took her away. You felt like you were losing her to the dark mirror of yourself—it was Leontine with Clay all over again.”
“If you’re going to kill me,” he puffs out, his chest heaving, “just do it… just get it over with.”
“No,” I answer, stowing my hands in my pockets. “Because I’mnotgoing to kill you, Ernest. I’m going to spare you. For Delphine and Dominic. For you to see that you’ve been wrong about me. All I’ve ever done is protect what’s mine. Just like you.”
He blinks at me, dumbfounded. “You’re… you’re going to let me live?”
“That’s right. You’re free to go. I’m not holding a grudge. Hopefully you won’t be stupid enough to either.”
Ernest struggles standing to his feet, his stance broken down and slumped even as tall and broad as he is. He stammers toward me with a perplexed expression on his face. The question of whether I’m still playing mind games with him still lingers.
When he’s about to pass me up, I clench a hand to his shoulder to stop him.
“Ernest,” I say matter-of-factly. “Let it go. If you want to live, if you want any chance at a relationship with Phi, you’ll let it go. And if you don’t—the next time, I promise Iwillkill you.”
He nods.
He stares at me, dazed and confused, and nods in agreement.
I listen to his fading footsteps, freed from the guilt and conflicted feelings after hearing Delphine’s goodbye speech. Feeling lighter from releasing the hate and loathing for Ernest I’d been holding onto for twenty long years. From the very moment we met so long ago.
Maybe… just maybe, we’ve finally reached an end to our feud.
23
delphine
5 months later…
“She’s beautiful,”Salvatore sighs. “Just like her mother.”
I give him an exhausted smile as he kisses the top of her head and then my cheek. We’re in the birthing room, huddled close like a family. The nurses still move about the room, tidying and cleaning up the area post-delivery.
It happened so fast, it’s lucky we made it to the birthing center in time. I had been out for my evening walk around the estate when I realized the sudden crippling cramp that had taken over me meant I was in labor.
Rather than the long and agonizing experience I had with Dominic, the labor and delivery the second time was a blur. Before I realized it, I was pushing and then listening to the distressed wails of our baby girl.
She’s wrinkly and pruned just like Dominic was. Her skin rosy and her face scrunched, she settles against my chest as if knowing it’s where she’s supposed to be.
Salvatore and I spend a moment watching her in reverent silence.
“Serena,” he says gently, running his hand along her head. It’s larger than her head, which is so small and delicate while he’s so strong and secure.
But it’s how he handles her—and me and Dominic—that always makes my heart melt.
Now is no different as Salvatore takes her carefully into his arms and holds her close. Our daughter wraps her miniature-sized fingers around one of his. Her puckered mouth opens in a yawn.
We both laugh.
“She loves her papa but she loves her sleep more,” I say.
“I don’t blame her. I’m sure she was nice and warm in your belly. Weren’t you, honey?” Salvatore drops his voice into an even lower register that’s softer and sweeter than I’ve ever heard him. He holds Serena close and talks to her so quietly, even I can’t hear.