Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
We came at the same time and both sank to the ground in a breathless heap, Greta in my lap.
“Since the first time I saw you in your tutu, I’ve wanted to do this,” I rasped.
“You desired me back then already?”
“Oh yes. I was completely obsessed from the first second. I never believed in love at first sight, but you converted me.”
Greta laughed, her expression doubtful. “It sounds like lust at first sight.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t just lust. I’ve felt lust before but what I felt when I saw you it was so much more potent and scarier.”
“So I scared you in the beginning?”
I chuckled. “You could say that. It was a new experience. Does that shock you?”
She grinned cheekily. “Not really. I’m a Falcone.”
I laughed and slammed my lips against hers. After a moment I pulled back. “You’re a Vitiello now.” I’d never grow tired of hearing someone call her Greta Vitiello, especially around Remo or Nevio.
She tilted her head, her eyes soft and loving. “I’m both.”
I knew her heart would always be split between Las Vegas and New York, and that was okay. Greta’s heart was big enough for her family and me. I would eternally be grateful that she’d opened her heart for me at all.
Three years later
I touched a cold cloth to Mom’s forehead. She cried out again. Her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her face flushed and sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead.
She sunk her fingers into the linen, her palms braced against the bed, rotating her hips as she breathed through the next contraction.
She had been in labor for five hours and seeing her pain, I felt grateful and awed over her sacrifice.
I rubbed her back and she relaxed as the contraction faded away and she got a moment to breathe. She gave me an exhausted smile. “I don’t think it’s long now. I can feel it. A head is bearing down really strongly. Soon you’ll have your babies.”
“What do you need me to do?” I wanted to help her in any way I could. These last nine months, she’d endured morning sickness, back pain and intense fatigue as she’d carried Amo’s and my babies in her body. It was a gift I could never repay her.
Mom touched my cheek. “Just keep doing what you do.” Her face twisted under a new wave of pain.
I guided her through her breathing, rubbed her back, put pressure to her lower back and later wiped her forehead.
After another hour of contractions, Mom had to settle on the bed and ten minutes later, my daughter was born and two minutes later my son slipped out. I sank down beside Mom with a stunned expression as the nurses checked the two little babies with their crowns of thick black hair. Mom let out a choked sob and I too couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Lie down beside me,” Mom whispered. I did and kissed her cheek, not sure what to say, how to thank her for something like this. Our eyes locked and she touched my cheek with a trembling smile. “I know, I know.”
The nurses came over with the two little babies.
I held my breath, unable to proceed what was happening.
“Open your bathrobe,” the nurse told me. I’d spent the first two hours of labor with Mom in the birthing tub and hadn’t bothered getting dressed.
I glanced wide-eyed at Mom.
She nodded. “They’re yours, Greta. You should hold them.”
I parted the bathrobe and the nurses put both babies on my chest. I began to cry when I felt their small bodies against my skin, when I smelled their sweet scent. Mom leaned her head back, completely exhausted and watched me while a doctor stitched her up. My heart had never felt so full before as if it might not be able to hold all the love I carried inside of me.
“Should I call in your husbands?” The nurse asked after Mom was covered up.
Mom nodded. “Please.”
She opened the door and a moment later Amo came in and froze as his gaze settled on me. He swallowed hard. Dad stepped in behind him and clapped Amo’s shoulder a bit too hard. “Congrats on the first Famiglia Capo to be born in Las Vegas.”
I gave him a teary, indignant smile. Amo and I hadn’t wanted Mom to come to New York heavily pregnant and so we’d flown over for the birth. Dad walked over to me to kiss the top of my head before he went over to Mom and kissed her lips. The look he gave her made my heart swell. On occasion I’d worried that the conflict my bond with Amo had created had hurt their marriage, but his eyes told me he loved Mom more today than he’d ever had before.
Amo stopped beside me, his eyes soft and incredulous as he looked at our children. “They are really here,” I whispered. Until very recently it had felt like a dream that I might wake up from.