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“No.”
“You haven’t heard what I’m going to say.”
“I’ve heard your toasts.”
“This one is different.”
“They’re always different. That’s why they take so long.”
Gianni ignored her. “I’d like to say a few words.”
“You’ve never said a few words in your life,” Marcello groaned.
“The past several weeks have tested this family in ways none of us could have predicted.”
Artemus looked up from his laptop. “I predicted several.”
Gianni glared at him. “No one asked you.”
“You said none of us could. I was just proving you wrong.” A pregnant pause followed, one in which Gianni glared some more and Artemus sat uncomfortably before letting out one final squeak. “Continue.”
Gianni cleared his throat before starting again. “We faced enemies at our walls and corruption in places where people should have been protected.”.”
“That’s already more than a few words,” Tone complained.
“I’m establishing context.”
“We were all there. We had front-row seats.”
Gianni raised his voice. “We also witnessed courage, loyalty and sacrifice.”
Marcello reached for the bread. Samira moved it toward his uninjured hand.
The room gradually resumed moving around the speech. Marigold climbed into Archie’s lap. Rose continued chewing Raze’s collar. Atlas retrieved his phone until Neve took it from him again.
Gianni continued, though no one listened with the solemnity he had intended. He knew it. I saw the smile he tried to hide. The speech had never been the point. The point was that everyone he had nearly lost remained at the table to interrupt him. He lifted his voice over the noise.
“To the Cavalho family.”
Glasses began to rise.
“To those born into us,” he continued. “Those who married us despite receiving more than enough warning. And those we found along the way.” His gaze moved to Adriana before reaching me. “And those stubborn enough to return.”
The noise softened. I looked down at my glass.
“To everyone still here,” Gianni proclaimed.
No one interrupted him this time as we all raised our glasses. The wine passed over my tongue without taste as I swallowed it.
Across the table, Tone watched me. Candlelight caught the exhaustion beneath her eyes. Archie’s hand rested against the back of her neck, his thumb moving once over her skin. Marigold had folded against his chest, still clutching a piece of bread in one hand.
Ten years stood between my sister and me. Our father’s death. Alessio’s grave. Every message I had refused to answer. Every birthday I had missed.
Tone didn’t smile. Neither did I. Some wounds did not close because a man finally came home. Forgiveness did not erase the years that caused it to become necessary.
Her chin dipped once. The movement was small enough that no one else would have noticed. I returned it. Not absolution, or an end to everything that remained unsaid. An acknowledgement that I was here. For tonight, that was enough.
Adriana’s hand found mine beneath the table.
