I stare at my dad as he wipes his lips with a paper napkin. With my eyes, I gesture at Damon.

My dad clears his throat. “Thank you, Damon. That was a good meal.”

“It was lovely, really,” my mom adds. She plays with the pearls around her neck.

This is the third Friday my parents have joined us for dinner at home, but the awkwardness hasn’t quite melted away.

My dad hasn’t apologized to Damon yet, and I’m not holding my breath. I’ve never heard my dad apologize to anybody in my life. He’s not going to start now, when all his hair has turned gray.

But as soon as I told my mom about my pregnancy, my dad started calling Damon to ask about us having a meal together. Well, to be more accurate, he called me first, but I told him to ask Damon instead . . . and he did.

That’s as close to an apology as we’ll ever get.

I wanted to insist on my dad actually saying “sorry” at least, but Damon coaxed me into giving in. Me giving him radio silence for almost a year was punishment enough, he told me.

He knows what it’s like to feel alone as a kid and he wants our baby to grow up having as big a family as he can get.

My parents and Damon drink wine as I sip on my juice and rub my belly. I’m four months pregnant, and it’s starting to show.

“Your brother has good news too,” Mom says. “He’s getting married.”

“Matteo?” Damon and I ask almost at the same time.

“Yes.” My mom nods.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend,” I say.

“Well, she was never his girlfriend,” Dad says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“This marriage will be a good thing for both families,” my dad says cryptically.

“Wait. Did they even know each other before the families decided they should get married?” I know being a girl in a family like mine sucks because of how overprotective everyone is, but being a guy sucks too in a different way.

Dad frowns. “This is not just about them, Elena. Matteo has responsibilities.”

“No business talk at the dinner table,” Mom warns us.

“This is about family, Mom,” I say. “Dad, it’s not the fifties anymore. You can’t just make people get married because it’ll be good for the family.”

“I said no business talk,” Mom insists. “So have you decided on a name yet?”

“No, we’re going to wait until we know the gender at least,” Damon says.

I take Damon’s hand under the table. I’m so glad I have him in my life.

My family are nuts. I mean, the things they do are downright crazy. They can be so united in their insanity they make me feel like I’m the odd one out. But Damon reminds me I’m the sane one.

Thanks to Damon, I manage to keep the dinner table somewhat free of conflict.

I tell everyone about my pregnancy symptoms, my mom sharing her experience and some tips while my dad pretends he’s not listening whenever anyone at the dinner table even alludes to the fact that I have a vagina.

At the end of the night, I give my parents a hug at the door. I’m glad to see them together again. Before these dinners, I’d have to meet up with Mom at some restaurant so I wouldn’t accidentally see Dad too.

“Thanks for coming,” Damon says.

“Thank you for having us, Damon.” My mom smiles.

We close the door as my parents walk down the hallway.

Finally left to ourselves, I put my arms around Damon. “It’s my turn to thank you now.”

“Oh yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow. “How are you going to do that?”

“Like this.” I stand on my tippy toes and press my lips against his.

This kiss feels familiar—in a good way. People wax nostalgic about the first days or weeks of a relationship, but this, where we are right now, is perfect.

We went through a terrible storm in our early days, and it brought us closer together, but it also could’ve capsized us.

Compared to that, none of the normal obstacles of a relationship could put a dent on us.

Moving in together was a cinch; Damon was practically sleeping here in my apartment every night, so one day we simply decided to move his things here.

And now, we have the most wonderful thing in the world to unite us. This pregnancy has brought us closer than ever.

We’ve always talked about a future together, and now it feels real. We’ve even started saving up to start Damon’s mixed martial arts studio someday. And I can’t wait for our child—or children—to learn his moves.

I never thought this life was possible. I was taught from an early age to listen and obey, but I know now that sometimes I have to fight for what I really want.

I’m thankful every day that Damon fought for me first and gave me the strength to fight too.

“That doesn’t feel like enough gratitude for me,” Damon says.

“No?” I smile.

“No. A kiss? Come on. I deserve more than that.”

“Like what?”

I cry out as Damon bends down to pick me up onto his arms. “Like this.”

We both laugh as he carries me into our bedroom and puts me gently on the bed. He lies down beside me and stares at me with love in his eyes. Then, he pulls me into another kiss.

Somehow, despite the ugliness behind us, we’ve found ourselves in this beautiful place. Nobody can tear us apart now.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed Elena and Damon’s story.

Want more?

to learn what Rosa Geurriero did to make her dad so angry.

, to binge on my books. :)

xx,

Nikki

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