Page 102 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
We haven’t talked about where we’ll live. The last few weeks, we’ve stayed here because the kids are back in school and Max wanted to make sure things were okay with Nic. Plus, he had to deal with Benny, who started to gloat when he got his money, but then Nic and Max threatened him, and he ran off. Good riddance.
“Are you thinking we’ll live in Las Vegas?” I look up at him from where I’m stuffing the stockings.
“Since Nic isn’t planning on killing me and it appears he’s happy with my work out there, I thought we might… if you?—”
“I think living in Vegas is a great idea.”
“You do?” He looks relieved.
“The kids loved it. I loved it. We’ve got space and room to grow.”
“To grow?” His smile widens.
I shrug. “Maybe. If you want more kids.”
He sinks to the floor next to me. “I want everything with you, Gia. Whether we have it here or in Vegas, I’m okay either way.”
“Vegas it is.”
A tugon my blanket pulls me from sleep. "Mommy! Santa came!" Daniella's whisper carries all the excitement of Christmas morning.
"Daddy! Wake up!" Dario bounces on the bed, and I feel Max stir beside me.
“I think the elves have invaded,” he murmurs.
I crack open my eyes to find both twins practically vibrating with anticipation.
Max wraps an arm around each of them, pulling them down between us. "What time is it?"
"The clock says six-one-five," Dario reports proudly.
“At least it’s not four in the morning. They got up that early one time,” I say, rolling out of bed.
“Why is it so hard to wake them for school, then?” Max asks, carrying each child like a sack of potatoes.
“Gee, I wonder,” I say as we enter the living area, the kids squirming to be let down so they can open presents.
Max sits cross-legged on the floor with the kids as they tear into their presents. His eyes light up watching Daniella squeal over her new art supplies, and he high-fives Dario when he unwraps racing car Legos.
"This one's from Daddy!" Daniella announces, holding up a wrapped box.
"And this says 'To Mommy'," Dario adds, pushing a small package toward me.
Max catches my eye over their heads, and I see all the love I feel reflected back at me. He's not just going through the motions. He's fully present, soaking in every moment with our children.
Later, as the kids build elaborate structures with their new blocks, Max pulls me against his chest on the couch. The Christmas tree lights cast a warm glow across the room, and the scent of cinnamon rolls baking fills the air.
"Thank you," I whisper to Max.
"For what?"
"For loving them as much as you love me. For making us a real family."
He kisses my temple. "They're part of you. How could I not love them?"
“They’re a part of you too.”
“It’s amazing. I never knew I had it in me to help create a miracle.”