epilogue

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"Andrea, I said to stop doing that," I exclaimed. He had come home from school with a call his teacher had given me. Once again, she notified me of his fighting at school.

"It wasn't my fault! He was picking on a girl for no reason. Papa always told me to defend those who can't defend themselves. Volevo solo aiutare, ma," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Shaking my head, I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards his father.
[ i only wanted to help ]

"I swear he acts more like Valentino than Valentino acts like himself," I said, rolling my eyes before letting him go. Vincenzo looked at Andrea before his eyes went up to me.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Andrea decided it would be fun to get into only his third fight this week. They're talking about suspending him, and he's only nine years old," I explained before sitting right beside Vincenzo on the couch. Andrea stood in front of us, an eyebrow raised in a question.

"What did I tell you about fighting? Combattere senza scopo ti rende solo un codardo," Vincenzo stated calmly. It was almost as if I were the only person in this house that actually cared about nonviolence.
[ fighting with no purpose only makes you a coward ]

"Fighting at all makes you a coward if you ask me," I muttered before throwing myself against Vincenzo. He wrapped his arm around my waist while his eyes remained on our son.

"Papa, there was a purpose. I fought Emiliano because he kept making fun of Aldina. It wasn't fair, so when I asked him to stop-he wouldn't. I fought him because he deserved to get punched in the f*cking fac-"

"Andrea, watch your language! You are going to quit behaving like this," I said, getting up. Andrea let out a loud groan before running towards his room. He slammed his door behind him as anger settled within me.

Just as I was going to walk towards the door, Vincenzo grabbed my arm. "Baby, you're right. Our son is basically his uncle, and one thing that I know about Valentino is that when he does wrong he always comes back to apologize.  Just give him a few minutes to think," he told me.

A sigh moved past my lips as I sat back down. He began to rub my back soothingly. "I just don't understand what has gotten into him lately. He's never been so violent, and downright disrespectful."

"Maybe it's because you're pregnant with another boy. He just wants attention," Vincenzo said. I could feel him moving closer to me as his lips found my neck. My eyes shut as he pulled me towards him. His hand slowly crept up my shirt, inching its way closer to my breast.

My panties were becoming soaked as butterflies continued to flutter around in my belly. I was ready to get into his lap and kiss his life away when Andrea's door opened. Vincenzo removed his hand from my shirt before a smirk made its way onto his face as he looked at the television.

"Mama, I'm sorry. I don't like making you upset with me. I'm going to stop fighting, okay? Sometimes, I get so angry and I don't know how to control it," he said, walking up to me. I scooted over, allowing space in-between Vincenzo and I. He sat down, his arms wrapping around me.

It must be an Italian thing for males to always have to hold onto a female. My life is going to be surrounded by boys, and I know that I will never catch a break from constant cuddling.

"I understand. You strangely have a lot in common with Uncle Tino," I told him, smiling slightly. My son rested his head on my chest while his arms continued to hold on tight to me. I began to play with his black curls as his blue eyes gleamed up at me.

Just then, a knock on the door erupted in the room. Vincenzo got up from the couch and made his way towards his.

"Ma, why don't I have a nonno o nonna?" he asked. I stopped playing in his hair for a second before taking a deep breath. He was too smart of a boy to try to deceive. So, I settled with the truth.
[ grandpa or grandma ]

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