One year later

"That was so good," I groaned, rubbing my stomach as I leaned back into the seat. I was stuffed, completely full from the glorious five star meal Sandro and I devoured. His lips twitched into a smile, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

"I'm happy you enjoyed it, bellissima," he murmured, reaching over the centre console to rest his hand on my thigh. My black dressed had bunched up below my hips, and even after a year—his touch still warmed up my insides.

I kept my eyes on him, unable to pry my gaze away. He was handsome, dressed in a tailored black suit and white shirt. Sandro was picturesque in every way and yet again, my heart couldn't comprehend how he was mine.

Everything seemed surreal as we drove through the streets of Sicily.

After leaving the city, we travelled the world for a few months, eventually settling in Sandro's hometown. He had surprised me with a trip to Thailand—because he knew Thai was my favourite cuisine and he wanted me to try the food.

From there, we decided to continue our travels. I smiled whenever I thought about it, utterly amazed by the lengths he went for me and the memories he created for us.

I couldn't believe it, a year later and I was living in a breathtakingly beautiful home, designed by Sandro himself. He truly was a jack of all trades, creating a cosy and comfortable home for us.

He built a yard for Trigger, giving the little guy all the running space his heart desired. Our big baby. It didn't take long for me to love him with my entire being.

I had to admit—it was a bit overwhelming at times and at one point, I couldn't believe that I packed up my entire life to move across the world with Sandro. I would have my off days, but he was always there to comfort me and reassure me that if I changed my mind, he would take me back.

I would never.

He was happy. I was happy. There was nothing more I could ask for, especially seeing Sandro less tensed and completely stress free.

I turned my head, looking at the beautiful view.

"This is not the way home," I said, frowning in confusion.

"It's not," Sandro responded, shrugging casually. He didn't say anything else.

We drove in silence for a while until the car came to halt. I peered out the window, frowning in confusion before my face dropped into pure awe. We were parked on a hill, overlooking the calm and glistening sea. The best part was the beautiful red and orange sunset.

"Whoa," I gawked. It was one of the most majestic views I had ever seen, and I couldn't stop my lips from pulling up into a smile. Sandro parked and exited the car, rounding the hood to open my door for me. He offered me an outstretched palm, and I took it appreciatively.

Sandro was smiling—but I could tell that he was nervous.

"This is—' I cut myself off, unable to formulate how I felt. We walked over to the edge, hand in hand and my smile never faltered.

I looked over at Sandro, and the gentle hue of the sunset casted shadows on his perfect face. His green eyes were lighter, brighter and soft. Fuck. The glare of the sun highlighted his features—his lips, his jawline, the tiny scar through his eyebrow. Absolute perfection. I laid my palm on his cheek, unable to stop myself from turning his head so he could give me a kiss.

He smiled through it, laying his hand on my waist. "A pretty sunset for you, amore mio."

"Thank you for bringing me here. It's beautiful, Sandro," I murmured, returning my gaze to the view. I took a deep breath in, allowing the crispy air to fill my lungs. It was a little cold and smelled of fresh seawater.

Sandro let go of my hand, but I didn't pay too much attention to it until I heard shuffling from besides me.

My jaw dropped for the second time that evening.

Sandro was on his knee—holding a black box with a diamond ring in the centre.

"Bellissima," he murmured, looking up at me with adoration and a hint of nervousness "I hope you don't mind me measuring your finger while you slept. I just wanted to get it right."

I chuckled, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. "Of course not."

"Good," he said, a cheeky grin on his face. "I've been wanting to do this for the longest time. Aria. My love. Cuore mio," he said, and I had to bite my lip because I was about to turn into a sobbing mess.

"You are the best person. In every way possible. Biggest heart. Beautiful soul. Fat ass—" Sandro smirked, tilting his head to peer around my body.

"Sandro!" I laughed, shaking my head. Of course that was his speech.

"I cannot wait for you to wrap those legs around me later. Mm, you look so good. Damn, I just want to—"

"We're kind of getting side-tracked," I interrupted, and his head snapped up to me as if remembering that he had a ring in his hand.

He smiled sheepishly. "Right. Bellissima, will you grant me the honour of being your husband?"

"Yes, what the fuck—of course," I exclaimed and Sandro stood up. He wrapped his arms around my waist, an awe-worthy smile on his face as his eyes glinted with joy. He gave me a hug, one that felt as if he was about to crush all my bones but I hugged him back tighter.

Sandro set me down and took my left hand. I gasped when he slid the ring over my finger. It was beautiful. A thin diamond covered band—a bigger one in the centre. Sandro kissed my forehead before kissing me knuckles.

"Alessandro," I whispered. "It's stunning, and it fits perfectly," I gushed, holding it up into the light as I admired it.

That's why he took me to get my nails done the previous day.

"It should. Or else I would've blown that entire store down."

I looked at him. "You're not kidding."

"I'm not," he stated. I shook my head.

Sandro and I stayed for a few minutes—admiring the view until the night turned dark.

•

"Did you leave our lights on?" I asked Sandro, stepping onto the porch.

"I have another surprise for you," he mumbled, but I could see that he was trying to hide his excitement. He pushed the door open, stepping aside to let me in first and I eyed him warily, wondering what he was up to.

As soon as I passed the threshold, my heart dropped.

"No way," I muttered, taking a step forward.

"Hi, my darling," my mother greeted, wrapping her arms around me to pull me in for a warm hug. I held on tightly, dropping my head onto her shoulder. It had been forever since I last saw her—and I missed her so much.

"Ma, how? When did you arrive?" I asked, still in shock at the fact that my mother and Aiden were in Italy. When I gazed over her shoulder, Aiden and Sandro were already chatting and shaking hands.

"We have a wedding to plan, of course. Let me see that ring," she gushed, pulling back to take my hand in hers. As she examined my ring, I narrowed my eyes at Sandro. How did he manage to plan all of this without me realising a thing? Regardless, I was so fucking happy and grateful.

"Okay, my turn," Aiden said, stepping around her to hug me. I grinned and when he pulled away, Sandro and my mother were embraced in a hug. My face softened.

Such a beautiful sight.

"Hi, baby. You're looking as handsome as ever," she said, tugging at his cheek and Sandro smiled.

"Thank you, mama. You look beautiful," he responded, and I looked away as my eyes welled up again.

"Aria, what's wrong?" Aiden asked, scowling down at me. I shook my head, willing myself to stop being a mess. It was supposed to be a joyous moment.

"Nothing. I'm just happy," I replied, wholeheartedly meaning it.

That night, my mother and I sat down with a cup of coffee and caught up with each other. Sandro and Aiden were on another one of their drives, and I had a feeling that Sandro let him behind the wheel.

Luckily, they both came back in one piece.

My mother explained how sad my dad was that he couldn't join us due to work—I was a little sad too but I understood why. After everything had settled down, Sandro and I laid in bed together for the first time as an engaged couple—although we had been acting as if we were married for ages—and I couldn't stop thanking him. He had to kiss me to get me to shut up, and it worked.

Alessandro was by far the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Two years later

I stared at the pregnancy test in my hand, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Bellissima, what does it say?" Sandro's worried voice came from the other side of the door. My hands wrapped around the edge of the sink and I dropped my head, feeling painful waves of disappointment rushing through me.

I knew how badly he wanted a kid.

"Can you answer me, please?" Sandro murmured, gently knocking on the wood. I pursed my lips, opening the door and I shoved the test into his chest. He looked at it, and his eyes portrayed exactly how he felt. The same way as me.

"It's negative," he said.

I nodded, walking away from him. "I know."

Sandro grabbed my hand, pulling me back towards him. "It's negative, but that's okay. I know you're disappointed, but we can try again—"

"Sandro, please," I said, feeling utterly defeated as I pulled my hand back. "We can't. Every time. Every single time, it's the same result. I'm tired, Sandro. I can't do it again. I just can't have my heart broken again."

"Stop, amore mio. Fuck, I'm so sorry—" he said softly, wrapping his arms around me and I melted into his hold. "I promise that it's okay. Our lives do not revolve around having children. Yes, we both want one but there are other options. Plenty of other options and we'll figure it out,"

"Sandro, I feel like I'm constantly disappointing you," I whispered, my voice muffled by his chest.

"Don't ever say that again," he said, letting go to hold me at arms length. He bent down, lowering his head to my level as he glared at me. "Never say that again. You're not disappointing me. Do you hear me?" He said, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

I swallowed, staring at my husband with tear-filled eyes. Sandro sighed, hugging me again and he kissed the top of my head.

He rubbed my back comfortingly. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. If you want, we can visit the doctors again,"

"I don't know if I can..."I trailed off. It was emotionally too much to handle getting my hopes only to be let down over and over again.

I couldn't keep doing it to myself and I couldn't keep doing it to Sandro. I knew he was hurt too. But he was the stronger one out of the both of us and as he held me, whispering words of support and encouragement, I realised that every second was worth it. And every attempt was worth it too.

"That's okay. I'm here if you change your mind," he said.

Sandro held my jaw, tilting my head and he gave me a kiss. "I love you. We'll do whatever you want us to do. There's no rush." He took my hand, pecking my knuckles and I smiled through my tears.

He smiled too when he saw that I wasn't as sad anymore. "You're an amazing person, Sandro. Thank you for always being here for me. We can visit the doctor tomorrow," I said, taking his hand and I watched as his face lit up.

He clasped his hand over my hair, leaning forward to give me a kiss on my forehead and whispered a, "thank you."

Sandro looked happy that I hadn't given up.

Trigger whined next to us, flattening his ears on his head. He was watching us, and somehow his eyes looked sad too—as if he knew what we were feeling. I pulled away from Sandro and slowly descended onto my knees to ruffle his ears. Trigger stepped forward, dropping his head onto my lap and I stroked his fur.

Sandro sat next to me—wrapping an arm over my shoulder and as we sat on that floor, I realised that we already had our own little family and no matter what happened, we would have each other.

Eleven months later

"Fuck you, Alessandro!" I screamed, crushing his hand in my own. Droplets of sweat rushed down my face, and Sandro grinned down at me. I sent him the deadliest glare—he had some fucking nerve to be grinning at me while I pushed not one, but two babies out of my vagina.

"Yell all you want, bellissima. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured me, stroking my tense hand with his thumb. I scowled at him before gazing at the doctor between my legs.

"I've had enough. Just yank them out, please." I begged.

The doctors eyes widened and she cleared her throat. "You're crowning. Next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you possibly can, yes?" Her Italian accent coming through heavily. Sandro held my hand tightly, or I was holding his tightly. I couldn't tell the difference, but his fingertips were turning white. He didn't complain.

I closed my eyes—trying to think of anything else besides the pain in my pelvis. I thought about our intimate wedding, the look on Sandro's face when the test came back positive, and the way my mother screamed when she found out she was going to be a grandmother.

We wanted this for ages, but the labour was excruciating and I wanted to choke Sandro with my bare hands as the cramps flowed through me.

After copious amounts of doctor consultations, it took me two months to get pregnant. Two long months. It was scary, but it was a success in the end.

My parents were supposed to be there with us—but I gave birth a day earlier than expected and they were still on their flight. Aiden was outside the hospital room, waiting patiently. He had moved to Italy to attend university as an exchange student, taking on a degree in Mechanical Engineering. His passion. Sandro and I were both so proud of him.

Tammy and Elijah were married, and the both of them were on their way to us too. I couldn't wait to see her.

I gave a push, screaming through gritted teeth and I swore I broke a bone in Sandro's hand. When I was done and breathless, the cries and wailing of a baby filled the air. A tired sob came from my chest. I observed with low eyes as the nurse tended to him. My son. I just wanted to hold him already.

Sandro stroked my hair, and I looked up to see him watching our baby with the utmost love.

"You're doing so good, bellissima," He whispered, but I couldn't find it in me to muster up a response. A few minutes later, my daughter was finally out of me.

Except this time, there was no cry.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain as fear and worry washed over me. My blood ran cold, and I looked at the doctor. "What's going on? Why isn't she crying?" I asked shakily, letting go of Sandro's hand. He straightened up, his concern expression mirroring mine.

"Don't worry about it, Mrs Galanti. She just needs a little encouragement," she said, slapping my baby on the butt. I frowned, but it quickly disappeared when she started crying. I sighed in relief, slumping into the hospital bed.

"Oh, thank God," Sandro said softly, closing his eyes. He panicked too. My heart was pounding in my chest, and exhaustion had my body feeling stiff and lethargic. I couldn't move, and soon I felt my eyes fluttering close. I couldn't control it, and my head drooped to the side. I wanted to stay awake. But I couldn't. I tried to fight it, but darkness crept into the sides of my vision.

Right before I fell into complete unconsciousness, I felt lips on my forehead. "You did so good, bellissima. I'm so proud of you."

I opened my eyes, wincing at the bright light in the hospital room and I groaned. A chair scraped against the floor, and a warm and comforting hand rested on my shoulder.

"I'll get the nurse," Sandro muttered, and all I could do was nod my head. I sat up, grimacing as I did so. I was sore, really fucking sore but they managed to clean me up nicely while I was passed out. I wanted my babies.

Moment later, the nurse placed my baby boy in my arms and my daughter into Sandro's. Tears were flowing down both of our faces and we were a mess but my heart was completely overjoyed that our little family was growing.

"So small," I sniffled, holding the fragile body to my chest. His eyes were closed, his pink lips in a permanent pout as he slept. The little hair on the top of his head was dark, resembling Sandro's and I smiled. He was wrapped in a blanket, his tiny hands balled into fists at his chest.

I turned my head, gazing over at Sandro. He was holding our daughter, biting his lip and I saw his eyes well up again.

He was going to be the best dad.

"Is she supposed to look like this?" he asked, holding her and I laughed out loud.

"Sandro, she's ten minutes old," I chuckled, wiping away my tears.

"Oh, okay," he said.

"Have you decided on the names, my love?" Sandro asked.

I smiled gently, looking down at our son. "Romeo Giovanni Galanti."

Sandro grinned, "Emilia Aziza Galanti."

I gave Romeo a delicate kiss on his forehead, and his nose scrunched up while he slept. It was the cutest thing. A moment later, I finally got to hold my daughter. I wished I could hold them both at the same time but I was still in pain and I was scared I was going to hurt them.

Sandro set Emilia in the tiny bed next to me, holding her neck steady and I was amazed at how good he already was. We got a few lessons from my mother, and I could tell that Sandro paid attention.

"Let me call mama to meet her grandkids. I'm sure Aiden is excited too," he murmured, taking my hand. "Thank you for blessing me with these beautiful babies, amore mio. I love you so much."

"I love you more," I whispered, giving him a soft smile.

THE END

• • •

Thank you so so much for 1.7 million reads 🫶🏽🫶🏽 I love every single one of you, and I appreciate all your patience and support throughout this book. Going to miss posting and reading all the funny af comments so much 😭😭

Bonus chapter coming on Wednesday!! ❤️❤️