Page 57 of Mafia Doctor's Secret Baby

I can tell that something has shifted in my father’s mind, at the sound of those words coming out of her mouth—knowing that she’s not just enduring this life, but that she might actually thrive in it, that makes all the difference. But as he reaches for the glass of wine sitting on the table before him, I can tell that his mind has moved on to other things—in fact, the very thing he came here for in the first place.

“Now,” he remarks. “When am I going to get to meet my granddaughter…?”

Polly is asleep by the time my father gets to her room, and he lingers in the doorway for a moment, just watching her from afar. It might not be the meeting he pictured, but he just seems happy to be around her at all.

“She looks just like you did at that age,” he remarks to me, and to my surprise, I hear an edge of emotion to his voice. My father does all in his power to keep whatever is going on inside his head to himself, but I suppose the sight of this new generation has shifted things slightly for him.

All at once, Polly’s eyes flicker open, as though she can sense the eyes on her. She looks over toward the door, and Katie hurries over to pick her up, scooping her against her chest.

“Oh, did we wake you, sweetheart?” she murmurs, and Polly reaches up for her mother, her little chubby hands brushing against Katie’s hair. She’s been grabbing it in chunks recently, and Katie is forever disentangling her locks from her daughter’s fingers.

“I guess she must sense her grandfather is in the room,” she remarks, looking over to my father with a smile. She steps toward him, raising her eyebrows. “Would you like to?—”

“Hold her? Yes, I would,” he replies, not even giving her time to finish what she’s saying before he’s formed his arms into a cradle for our little girl. Katie carefully slides Polly into his grip, and for a moment, Dad just stands there and stares down at her.

I can tell that he’s having as hard a time wrapping his head around this as I am. All the generations of his family—the living ones, at least—standing together in this room…the family’s past, its future, everything laid out before us.

“She’s perfect,” he remarks, and for a second, I can see a younger version of him in the room with me—the version that must have held me the same way, held Emil… A man who has just come to terms with this child being a part of him now. His face softens, and she reaches out to touch his cheek. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation brush through him, and then he hands her back to Katie.

“Quick, before I start getting too emotional,” he mutters gruffly.

I chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this…”

“When it’s your granddaughter, you’ll understand,” he replies, his eyes slightly misty as he looks back to me. And the way he says it, I’m sure I will—even if a new generation is at least a couple of decades away for the time being.

We say our goodbyes once he’s met Polly, and Katie breathes a sigh of relief as soon as he’s out of the house.

“Okay, that went better than I thought it would,” she admits, as the two of us head down to the bedroom to get some rest. She has been buzzing around all day, hardly able to sit down or relax for a moment, and I know she must be exhausted.

“I knew it would,” I reply, as she sinks down in front of her dressing table to take off her earrings and her makeup. I watch her for a moment, drinking in her reflection in the mirror, and then move to her side to rest my hands on her shoulders, giving them a light rub.

“You did so well tonight,” I murmur to her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She smiles at me in the mirror, her face fresh and bare. She looks so beautiful like this, with no mask or makeup on. I can still remember the first time we met, when she was hiding her identity, though it seems a million miles away right now.

“Thanks,” she sighs. “Though I feel like your dad isn’t entirely happy that we’re not married yet…”

“Oh, he’ll always find something to complain about,” I reply with a grin. “He’s old-fashioned like that.”

“So you don’t think he’s going to set the wedding date for us whether or not we ask?” she jokes back.

I chuckle. “Oh, I didn’t say that,” I shoot back. “He’s probably booking the cathedral right now?—”

“The cathedral?” she gasps. “You can’t be serious.”

“Hey,” I assure her. “Remember, this is our wedding. Our marriage. Everything happens on our terms. You want a big event, we can have one. You want something small, we can have it. Whatever you want, okay?”

She grins at me in the mirror, and then turns to face me properly.

“I think I’d like to set a date,” she admits, after a brief pause. “I mean, I know all of this is…I know a whole hell of a lot has been going on. But I’m ready to be your wife.”

“My wife,” I remark, a grin licking up my face. “You know, I like the sound of that…”

“I’d hope so,” she laughs, as I guide her out of her chair and into my arms. “You’re the one who proposed to me…”

“Say it again,” I tell her as I sink my lips to her neck. She moves into me slightly, sensing where I’m going with this.

“What, that I’m going to be your wife?”

“Mmm,” I groan, my fingertips digging into her waist. “Yeah, that. I like that. I like that a lot…”

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