Page 180 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“Me running after you down the sidewalk?—”

“Youchasingafter me because you couldn’t just admit how attracted you were to me?—”

And we both burst out laughing. “Ours wasn’t a conventional meeting, but it sure as hell was one wild ride,” Saint whispers. “Because you, Emerald Veneti, always give as good as you get.”

I smile back at him, and we sit there, just staring down at our baby girl before the nurse wheels her away with the parting words to get some sleep. I can feel the exhaustion in my bones. Saint carefully reclines back onto the bed beside me, and I lean into his chest.

“I know this doesn’t erase what happened to you, Saint, but I’m glad you’re taking this as a new start.”

Saint’s fingers drift through my hair, and he sighs. “I didn’t think I’d ever see a day like this, Em. I didn’t think Ideservedit. Today is something beautiful, like a miracle. But one look at Liliana, and it’s like the past is now just a faded memory which doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?”

“I mean, it matters, obviously. But I don’t think my mom or dad would have wanted me to think of anything other than what’s here today.”

I squeeze his hand. “I think you’re right,” I say softly.

“It doesn’t mean I’m forgetting them or what happened. It just means that maybe today doesn’t have to be something sad. How can it be when it’s the day our baby girl was brought into our lives?”

I smile at him. “I’m glad, Saint, really. You deserve to celebrate your birthday and be happy.”

“I’m happy, Em. I really am. And that hollow spot in my chest, the one that’s been aching and hurting for over two decades, is slowly starting to fill. It’s filling with bright, glorious, radiant sunshine.And that’s all because of you, Emerald. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

TWO YEARS LATER

Saint is still just like the man I first met, but at the same time, he’s also very different. For one thing, he lies a heck of a lot less. Plus, he lets himself show his emotions more—he even cried again the first time Lili called him Dadda. And he’s carried on coming to the support group with me, and I can tell that it really helps him. He still enjoys killing way too much, but, hey, nobody’s perfect.

I haven’t stolen again since the onesie incident. The group says it’s an issue I might have to deal with for the rest of my life, but the most important thing is to keep working at it and not let myself spiral out of control again.

For my part, I’m loving being a mom and taking care of the kids. I’m working part time at the boutique and doing the accounts at home while I look after Lili. It has really helped my self-esteem, knowing that I’m capable of these things and knowing I have a way to support us if things ever go south again. Everything I’ve learned from my bookkeeping course is getting put to great use in the boutique, and buying all the expensive stock for the business fulfills some of that high I used to get from when I got my hands on all those beautiful dresses I stole.

I even paid back every single store I ever stole from, sending them a check for double the dress cost and interest, plus a letter of sincere apology. I know my letters and checks don’t absolve me from my wrongdoings in any way, but at least I was able to let them know that I was genuinely sorry.

I still have to pinch myself at times to believe how far I’ve come. “You’re kicking ass, Em,” Saint tells me. “You already were before I met you, and you’ll keep on doing it. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and I knew that the first time I met you.”

Liliana sits on Saint’s lap, looking in awe at the mountain of presents that have somehow made it to the table in front of us. We expressly told everyone just a few gifts. And as per normal, they chose to have selective hearing about that.

I watch as our little girl snuggles into Saint’s chest and looks up adoringly at him, as ever a daddy’s little girl.

There’s leftover frosting from her smash cake on her outfit. Explaining the purpose of that to Saint took a whole week, but I think he realized its purpose about two seconds before she pummeled her tiny fists into it, smearing frosting all over his cheek and nose. It was such a success that Jaspar is demanding one for his next birthday.

“What?” Saint asks as he catches me staring at him.

“You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look is that?”

“You know, Saint, that dopey grin.”

“I’m just…happy.” And he squeezes my hand before bringing the back of it to his lips.

“Me too, Saint. And from the giggles, I would say Lili is as well.”

“Happy birthday, Lili!” Jaspar and Giulietta squeal for about the twentieth time. They’ve been so excited in the run up to Lili’s second birthday.

Saint’s rumble of laughter, not such a rare thing to hear lately, fills the space as he pulls them into him as they plant kisses on Lili’s cheeks. My gaze bounces around the room at the smiling faces of our friends and family.

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