Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
My love, my life, my Italian.
Two years later
The sound of the music floats through the air. I look around for my family. We are at a local fête. Or as we call it here… a carnival.
People are dancing in colorful costumes, and there are food stalls everywhere. The air is filled with laughter; so much laughter.
I see a little head bopping around up ahead, and I smile.
Enrico is standing and talking to three of his friends. Our son is high on his shoulders.
Romeo is two now, and he’s the spitting image of his father with big brown eyes, and dark hair full of curls. He’s also as smart as a whip and as cheeky as hell.
I stand and watch them for a while. Enrico has a hold of Romeo’s legs, and Romeo is laughing and dancing with another little boy who sits on his father’s shoulders while the men talk.
The other man says something, and Enrico throws his head back and laughs out loud. Romeo reaches down and pulls his hair.
Enrico winces in pain.
I laugh. This child is mischievous. He’s also the absolute apple of his father’s eye.
Enrico adores him.
I’m pregnant again—six months now—and healthy and happy.
Life’s good. It’s better than good. Amazing.
We’ll go back to Italy one day, but not yet.
Enrico wants all of his children to have this childhood. He misses Italy desperately, but not at the cost of his children’s safety and freedom.
He gets it now. He understands his father and why he did what he did. It took a long time, and he’s read that letter his father left for him many times over. But I know that, on many levels, he’s grateful that he didn’t know the finer details back then. He’s grateful that his father stayed with his mother for the sake of his children, and to be there for her.
We’re both grateful that we survived what we did.
Enrico’s eyes meet mine across the park and he says goodbye to his friends before he walks over to me. He bends and kisses me softly, and then takes my hand in his.
I look up to the little boy on his father’s shoulders.
“Ciao, amori miei! Sei pronto per tornare a casa, Romeo?” I ask. Translation: Hello, my loves. Are you ready to go home, Romeo?
“Si, mamma.” He nods.
Enrico reaches down and puts his hand over my stomach.
“Ti ho detto che sei bellissima oggi?” he asks. Translation: Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?
I giggle as I kiss his big beautiful lips.
“Una o due volte.” Translation: Once or twice.
We speak Italian at home now. It’s Romeo’s first language.
We make our way to the car.
“Dobbiamo fermarci all’ufficio postale andando verso casa. Il mio pacco è arrivato,” Enrico says. Translation: We have to stop off at the post office on the way home. My parcel has arrived.
I smirk. “Cosa hai comprato?” Translation: What did you buy now?
He gives me a sexy wink as he loads Romeo into the SUV.
Enrico still buys designer everything, he just does it online now.
I’m the best dressed woman in Australia.
You can take the man out of Italy.
You can’t take the Italy out of the man.
The End.