Page 134 of The Proposal

I’m quickly whisked into the main room. Balloons in every shade of pink and blue float above, some arranged into clusters while others drift lazily against the walls.

A long table is covered with a pink tablecloth, scattered with blue and pink confetti, and topped with an array of cupcakes and cookies that are decorated to match the theme.

Behind it, a banner reads “Baby Mancini” in bold letters, in a mix of pink and blue lettering. A stack of wrapped presents is off to one side, and a stunning three-tiered cake sits proudly in the centre.

I stand there for a moment, taking it all in. I am astounded at how they managed to pull this off in a few short hours. I feel bad for getting angry at my husband now. He was stalling for a reason, so they had time to orchestrate my surprise.

“Aunty Arabella,”a small voice calls in the distance, and a few moments later, little arms wrap around my waist.

“Giovanni,” I say, looking down at him with a smile as I stroke my hand over his soft, dark hair.

“I helped Mummy, Nonna, and Aunty Lucia put up the decorations.”

“They look amazing. Thank you for helping.”

“It was fun.”

I know I’ve said it before, but I truly love my new life, and I’m so grateful to have Lucia here to share it with. She gets to bask in the love and acceptance of our newfound family.

She’s thriving here with us and claims to officially be over her crush on Romeo. I’m not so sure, though. I catch the longing in her eyes whenever he’s around and she thinks nobody’s watching. If that’s the only kind of heartache she’s going to face moving forward, then I can live with that.

I still get a shiver down my spine when I think about what would’ve become of her at the hands of Giuseppe Salvatori.

As I glance down at my sweet nephew’s cherub face, my heart constricts in my chest. I’ve seen lots of babies in my lifetime, but this is the first time I’ve ever had the chance to hold one before.

I feel so overwhelmed. It’s probably my out-of-control hormones, but I’m finding myself fighting back tears. I can’t believe in a few more months, I’m going to be a mother. I’m excited about the birth of our child, but I can’t help feeling anxious as well. A tiny human is going to rely on me for their survival, and that is a daunting responsibility.

The tip of my finger gently ghosts over Luca’s chubby cheek … he’s so small … so fragile. My eyes move to his cute button nose, then down to his full lips.

When I lift one of his minuscule hands, his little fingers wrap around my own, and my vision becomes blurry.

My gaze flickers up to my husband because I can feel the weight of his stare pressing into me. There’s an endearing smile curving his lips as he watches me interact with our nephew. Is he thinking the same things I did when he was holding him earlier?

Or should I say hogging him?

Every time our eyes locked throughout the day, Luca was in his arms. He handed him over for feeds but then claimed him straight back. Eventually, Alexander had to step in. Their conversation went something like this:

“Right, that’s it, I’m cutting you off.”

“What?”Dante asked with shock lining his voice as Alexander took Luca out of his arms.

“You’re being greedy. He’s my baby; get your own.”

“You’re a douche canoe.”

“A what?”

“A douche canoe.”

“Is that even a thing?”

“Obviously, since you are one.”

“Grow up,”Alexander snapped.

“I was going to call you—”He then mouthed the word“cocksucker”as he flicked his chin towards the baby. “—but impressionable ears and all that.”

“Since when have you cared about impressionable ears?”

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