Chapter 16 - The Life They Built
Two years after Dominic first met Valentina, the Moretti family developed traditions.
Sunday breakfast belonged to Rosa.
Wednesday belonged to Gabriel, who picked Valentina up after school and usually returned her with too much sugar.
Friday was movie night.
Dominic pretended to dislike animated films.
Nobody believed him.
Matteo grew fascinated with science.
Valentina preferred stories.
Isabella's memory continued improving, though some years remained fragmented.
Dominic stopped asking her to recover the past.
They began creating new memories instead.
One spring morning Isabella entered the kitchen holding an old photograph.
Their wedding day.
"I remembered something."
Dominic looked up.
"What?"
"Your vows."
He smiled.
"They were excellent."
"They were terrible."
"Revisionist history."
"You wrote them that morning."
"I work well under pressure."
She sat beside him.
"You promised you'd find me in every lifetime."
Dominic's expression softened.
"That sounds like me."
"You did."
He touched her face.
"Eventually."
Isabella leaned forward and kissed him.
Valentina entered.
"Gross."
Matteo followed.
"Very gross."
Dominic pointed toward the door.
"Both of you leave."
They laughed.
Normal.
That word had once sounded boring.
Now Dominic treasured it.
His relationship with Gabriel evolved too.
At first they tolerated each other.
Then respected each other.
Eventually, to Dominic's annoyance, they became friends.
Gabriel refused every offer of unnecessary financial help.
But he accepted a position overseeing construction for Seven Days House.
"You hired me because I'm qualified?" Gabriel asked.
"Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Rosa threatened me."
"Fair."
Valentina moved between two homes without feeling divided.
She called Gabriel Dad sometimes.
Dominic Dad sometimes.
Other times both received first names depending on how angry she was.
The adults considered that healthy.
Caldwell's trial ended with multiple convictions.
Victor received decades in federal prison.
Aleandro's cooperation reduced his sentence, but he would still spend many years incarcerated.
Dominic visited once annually.
Not from obligation.
Not forgiveness.
Because hatred had stopped being useful.
During one visit Aleandro asked about Matteo.
"He's eleven."
"Does he know?"
"Some."
"Does he hate me?"
Dominic hesitated.
"He doesn't understand you."
"Neither do I."
Aleandro looked through the reinforced glass.
"What about Valentina?"
"Nine."
"Still bossing everyone?"
"Professionally."
Aleandro smiled.
Dominic stood to leave.
"Dom."
He turned.
"Thank you for coming."
Dominic nodded.
Outside the prison he sat in his car for several minutes.
Marco waited.
"Okay?"
"Yeah."
"You forgive him?"
"No."
Marco nodded.
"Still hate him?"
Dominic thought.
"No."
Marco started the engine.
"Sounds expensive, all this emotional growth."
Dominic smiled.
The foundation expanded into three cities.
Dominic avoided attaching his name to buildings.
He wanted the work remembered, not himself.
Children received temporary housing, counseling, legal support, education assistance and family reunification services.
One evening a reporter asked Valentina whether Dominic had saved her.
She looked annoyed.
"No."
The reporter blinked.
"He didn't?"
Valentina shook her head.
"We found each other."
Dominic heard the interview later.
He sat alone in his office afterward.
She was right.
He had found her on a cracked step believing she needed rescue.
He hadn't understood he was the person barely alive.
Valentina had not cured cancer.
She hadn't erased grief.
She hadn't transformed every part of him overnight.
She had simply given him someone whose tomorrow mattered.
And that made his own tomorrow matter.
During his annual cancer review, Falcone examined the latest scans.
"Clear."
Dominic smiled.
"Still?"
"Still."
"How many years before you stop looking surprised?"
Falcone leaned back.
"I gave you six weeks."
"You were terrible at your job."
"I also recommended the trial."
"Eventually."
Falcone laughed.
"Go home."
Dominic stood.
At the door Rico added, "Dominic."
He turned.
"I'm glad I was wrong."
Dominic nodded.
"So am I."
Outside the clinic Dominic did something symbolic.
He walked.
Same route.
Past luxury stores.
Toward older neighborhoods.
He found the street where he'd first seen Valentina.
The concrete step remained.
The colorful buildings looked a little more faded.
Dominic sat.
An older woman recognized him.
"You're that man from television."
"Unfortunately."
She smiled.
"Little girl okay?"
Dominic looked surprised.
"You remember her?"
"Everybody remembers Valentina."
"She's good."
"Good."
The woman continued walking.
Dominic sat alone.
Two years earlier he had been standing there believing he had six weeks.
Now he closed his eyes and listened to the city.
His phone rang.
Valentina.
"Where are you?"
"The old street."
"Why?"
"Thinking."
"Rosa says that's dangerous."
Dominic smiled.
"What do you need?"
"You promised you'd help with my project."
"What project?"
"Family tree."
Dominic became quiet.
Valentina continued.
"It's complicated."
"Yes."
"I need poster board."
"I'll buy some."
"And glitter."
"No."
"Dad."
"No glitter."
"Mom said yes."
"Which mom?"
"Isabella."
"Traitor."
Valentina laughed.
"Hurry."
Dominic stood.
"I'm coming home."
Those words still felt miraculous.
But another chapter of their family was approaching.
Isabella had received a phone call that morning.
A hospital in New Jersey had found something in old records.
Something Lucía Alvarez had left behind before her death.
A sealed letter.
Addressed not to Dominic.
Not to Isabella.
To Valentina.
May you like
And nobody knew what it contained.
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