show, I would have still run into Vinnie again. I liked to think our relationship would have still found another way to happen. But that's not how it went. We had found ourselves together again because this man, his father, had neglected to tell his children that he was dying. And I knew Vinnie and I had a long road ahead of us, and that the hardships we'd faced would take time to fully overcome. But while I stood in this clean, fresh apartment, I knew that we'd be fine. Because, for me, our love was the sweetness in the bitter reality of life and death, and I knew that if we could get through all we'd endured so far, we could survive anything.
“I don't feel him anymore,” Vinnie said, fighting back the distress and hurt of losing his father a second time. “Is he gone?”
I opened my eyes to see my husband, blinking back unshed tears and staring in the direction of where his father had been just seconds before, but now, there was nothing but the TV and the wall it hung upon.
Swallowing against a mournful sob, I slipped my hand into his. “Let's go to bed, baby,” I said, tugging him toward the hallway.
He hesitated for a moment, continuing to stare stubbornly, as if he believed that staring long enough would give him one final glimpse of his dad. But I knew better, and I think somewhere beneath the hurt, he knew it, too. I tugged again, and this time, he slowly followed.
As we headed down the hall, to begin the new, honest chapter of our lives together, I swore I heard someone exhale, somewhere not here, and then ...
Silence.
EPILOGUE
VINNIE
“Are you excited?”
With an incredulous look, I rolled my head against the pillow to face my wife. “Are you kiddin'? Of course, I'm excited.”
“Well, I mean, I wasn't sure,” she replied. “Especially when you consider how it went the last time you were at a party with my family.”
I snickered, leaned it to kiss her lips, and said, “That was then, sweetheart. Things are different now. And besides,” I climbed out of bed to pull on a pair of sweatpants, “this time, we're hostin', and if I wanna bang my wife in the middle of my fuckin' kitchen, I'm gonna do it.”
She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “Oh, God, please don't.”
“Come on,” I went on, grabbing my sweatshirt, “imagine the looks on your sisters' faces. They'd fuckin' love it.”
Andy uncovered her eyes and leveled me with a hardened glare. “One day, you're gonna love them.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “Maybe after I'm dead and need you to give 'em the message.”
She wasn't amused. “Well, you can at least pretend.”
“How 'bout this? I'll start pretendin' when they--”
“Daddy!”
The little voice came from the next room, and I couldn't help the groan as it passed through my lips. I looked to Andy, hoping she'd take one for the team, but she only shrugged and offered an apologetic grimace.
“He wants you, baby.”
“He always wants me.”
“You should be happy you're his favorite,” she said, with a gentle laugh.
“I know, I know,” I muttered. “But I can't help that I got other shit to do before this shindig.”
“You go see what he wants, and I'll start getting the food ready.”
Agreeing with a nod, I headed through the door and hung a sharp right into my son's room. He was sitting up in his bed, with a book in hand, as usual. The kid was incredibly smart and loved to read and learn. He was, for all intents and purposes, my polar opposite, and he was the best thing that could've happened in my life.
“Hey, buddy, what's up?”
“What time is the barbecue?”
“Uh, five o'clock,” I answered, lowering my eyebrows with curiosity. “Everybody's gonna come by probably closer to four. Why?”
“'Cause I wanna pick a book for Natalie and Katherine to read to me, and I need time.”
I narrowed my eyes and poked the inside of my cheek with my tongue, searching for the right words, before saying, “Uh, bud, Nat and Kat can't read yet. They're just learnin' now.”
“I know,” Vincent groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “But they gotta practice.”
Snorting, I nodded. “Well, I can't argue with you there. You got plenty of time, okay? But you better pick a good one.”
My brilliant three-year-old little boy climbed out of bed with a surge of determination and headed straight for his shelves, stuffed with an array of books. And in his Spider-man pajamas, with