Chapter 11
Linda stayed with us for two weeks after Emma came home.
At first I found her presence exhausting.
Then I realized that was because she saw things I was used to people pretending not to see.
The first time I answered a business call during dinner, she looked at me.
Did not say anything.
Just looked.
I ended the call.
Emma smiled.
I deserved that.
One evening Linda and I sat alone while Emma slept and the baby rested upstairs.
“I hated you once,” she said.
I looked at her.
“Once?”
She smiled faintly.
“Fair.”
Then she became serious.
She had hated the Moretti name before Emma married me.
Too much danger.
Too much secrecy.
Too many men who called absence responsibility.
But Emma loved me.
Linda accepted that.
Margaret never returned the courtesy.
“She looked at my daughter like she was visiting your family instead of joining it.”
I knew.
Too late.
Linda continued.
“When Emma got pregnant, your mother called me.”
“The recording.”
“Before that.”
I looked at her.
Margaret had asked one question.
Would Linda rather raise her grandchild near decent people or watch him become Moretti?
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What did you say?”
“I said I’d rather raise him around Emma.”
Good answer.
Margaret hung up.
Linda never told Emma because she was already stressed.
Another silence chosen as protection.
Linda recognized it too.
“I should have told her.”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
I almost apologized for agreeing.
Then she nodded.
“I know.”
Maybe that was the beginning of something healthier.
Not everyone rushing to excuse one another.
Responsibility allowed to exist without becoming hatred.
Upstairs, the baby cried.
I stood automatically.
Linda remained seated.
“You go.”
I smiled.
“Planning to.”
When I entered the bedroom, Emma was already holding him.
She looked exhausted.
Beautiful.
Human.
Not an alliance.
Not a Moretti wife.
Not the mother of an heir.
Emma.
I sat beside her.
She handed me our son.
“Your turn.”
May you like
I took him.
There are forms of authority that weigh seven pounds and make every Mafia title look ridiculous.
