Chapter 9 - The Family Table
Six months later, spring had fully arrived in Chicago. The tulips were blooming along Michigan Avenue, and the sun sparkled brightly over Lake Michigan.
At the Evanston estate, the great oak dining table in the glass conservatory was set for Sunday afternoon dinner. But there were no cold stares, no bodyguards in the corners, and no fear.
Amelia Moretti sat at the head of the table, wearing a bright pink cardigan, chatting happily in simple Italian with a young linguistic scholar from the new Foundation.
Around the table sat twelve people—friends, reformed family members, and staff who had become real family over the past half-year.
I sat near the middle of the table, wearing a dark green velvet dress that fit my curves perfectly. I felt confident, beautiful, and completely at home.
Lorenzo sat right beside me, his hand resting comfortably on the back of my chair, his thumb making slow, affectionate circles against my shoulder.
"Claire," Amelia called out, holding up her glass of sparkling water. "Vieni cca!" (Come here!)
I stood up, walking over to the matriarch's side. She took my hand, kissing my cheek warmly, then looked up at Lorenzo.
"Idda e a mugghieri giusta pe tte," Amelia declared loudly in her sharp Calabrian dialect, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
The young scholar gasped, covering her mouth to hide a giggle.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, looking at me. "What did she just say? Do I need a translator?"
I laughed, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "She said: She is the right wife for you, you slow fool."
The entire table erupted into warm laughter.
Lorenzo stood up, his dark eyes shining with immense warmth. He didn't look embarrassed at all. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small velvet box, and slid down onto one knee right beside my chair.
The laughter at the table died down into an excited, breathless hush.
"She's right, you know," Lorenzo said softly, looking up at me as he opened the box to reveal a stunning vintage diamond ring. "Nonna always did have the best judgment in this family."
My breath hitched in my throat. "Lorenzo..."
"Claire," he continued, taking my shaking hand into his strong grip. "You came into my life when everything was dark and broken. You taught me how to listen, how to trust, and how to love again. Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"
I looked down at the man who had protected me, respected me, and loved me for exactly who I was.
May you like
"Yes," I whispered, tears of pure joy streaming down my face. "Yes, absolutely!"
Lorenzo slid the ring onto my finger, stood up, and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss as the room burst into thunderous applause, cheers, and happy tears.
