Page 109 of The Don’s Omega

“It’s going to be okay, Elio. I feel it in my soul.” His eyes are very serious.

“Okay.” My voice is thick. “It never occurred to me that Fabio’s heart condition might be hereditary. That’s a terrifying thought.”

“I know. But I don’t think you or the baby will be affected,” he says firmly. “I just have a feeling you’re both okay.”

Of course he can’t really know that, but I allow myself to be comforted by his certainty. It’s better than stressing out over something I can’t control, and Marcello’s confidence is soothing.

We leave the clinic, walking out into the warm morning sun. He puts his hand on the small of my back as we walk to the car, and when he smiles down at me, I feel happy and breathless. Marcello might be the only person I’ve ever truly believed I could lean on. And I need that now, more than ever.

For the first time, the future feels like something to walk toward instead of something to brace for.

****

The following week Marcello leaves for a trip. He’ll be gone four days. Something about meetings in Philadelphia with other syndicates that couldn’t be handled remotely. I miss him the minute he’s gone.

We’re in a good place now. Even though there’s a side to him that scares me, we’ve both admitted we’re in love. I now know that there’s no time limit on our love. We don’t just have three years together, we have a lifetime.

Two days after he leaves, Giulia calls while I’m eating lunch on the back porch.

“Hey tennis buddy, wanna come play with me?” Giulia asks cheerfully. “Renato is being Renato and I need to hit something with a racket.”

I laugh. “Oh, no. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, it’ll blow over. It always does,” she grouses. “But for now, I’m annoyed with my darling husband.”

“What did he do?”

“The fool spent three thousand dollars on a watch he doesn’t need. Mind you, that was the same day he chided me for buying a two-hundred dollar face cream.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“Right?” She sighs. “Anyway, I can’t deal with the double standard today. I want to go to the club and spend more of his money on cocktails and maybe something from the gift shop, just to piss him off.”

“Ouch.” I chuckle.

“Don’t feel sorry for him. He deserves it.” There’s a smile in her voice. “Please say you’ll come with me to the club.”

“When?”

“Today. This afternoon. Now.” She laughs. “Whenever you can get here.”

I have no reason not to go. Marcello is gone and his family is busy as usual. It’s not like Ornella will miss me, that’s for sure. Since the pregnancy I swear she dislikes me even more. I have no idea what I did to the woman, but she definitely doesn’t approve of me. Playing tennis definitely sounds like more fun than sitting around missing Marcello and counting the hours until he’s back.

“I’ll be there in about a half hour,” I say.

“Yay,” she says cheerfully. “Can’t wait.”

Dante takes the coast road and I watch the water flash between the buildings, bright and flat under a hazy sky. When we pull up to the club, Giulia is pacing the front steps, talking animatedly on her phone. She hangs up when she sees me, shoves the phone in her skirt pocket.

“Renato is upset that I left him at home, but that’s too bad for him. He can stay home with his obscenely expensive watches,” she says, pulling me up the steps. “He already owns twelve watches. If he buys another one I’m going to murder him.”

“Oh, dear.” I wince because her grip is painful. “I see why you’re annoyed, but I wouldn’t murder him. Marcello might not approve. I think he likes Renato.”

She laughs. “I won’t really murder him. I love him dearly. But he is annoying the crap out of me right now.”

Once we reach the courts, we warm up and then play each other for a couple of hours. I’ve improved since the first few times I played, and even though I’m tired from the pregnancy, I do pretty well. I’m not thinking about the mechanics anymore, no longer obsessing about the grip or the footwork. My body has started doing it on its own. In fact, today, I hit a couple of forehand shots that surprise both of us.

Giulia stops after the second one and just stares at me. “Elio, you’re so much better,” she says, looking like a mama hen. “I’m so proud of you.”