Brother and sister, even.
There is no discomfort between Jonah and Callie right now, none of the sadness that permeated any room they were in together for so long. Just history. Rich, wonderful, loving history.
My heart swells in my chest.
“The point I’m trying to make,” Jonah finally says, and it’s Cal’s turn to roll her eyes, “is I was,”—he clears his throat—“vocal about why I didn’t want to be there.”
“The Forum?” Cameron asks innocently.
Jonah chuckles. “The Forum. Rome. Italy. Anywhere that wasn’t a beach that had good waves. And Astrid, in return, was quite vocal about how there was going to be a day in which I was going to be grateful for Rome, and for my family’s home, and that I better just shut the hell up and while I was at it, why wasn’t I arguing with her in Italian?”
Astrid says smoothly, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do, sweetling.”
We all laugh and laugh, because the image of Jonah yelling at Astrid (and in public, no less!) is ludicrous.
I take his hand in mine as Cameron recounts a time he and Molly went to Italy. It’s a good story, and I love hearing Molly stories, but ... I can’t help but think about what I’ve just learned about my husband. He took me somewhere last year when I broke down, somewhere he’d never gone voluntarily before, because it’d been too painful for him. I was the first person to share that with him—because, just like he’s my safety, I’m his.
Gods, I love him something fierce.
“I’d like to go back to Italy,” Callie muses. And then, to Cameron, “The way you’ve just described Venice is divine.”
“As there is a portal nearby,” Will says, “there’s nothing stopping you.”
She looks at him then—really looks at him. Not in an angry way, despite his teasing. Just ... like she’s seeing right into him.
And the funny thing is, Will is looking at her the same way. Interesting. And ... promising?
“Maybe you both could take William there,” Astrid says over the rim of her teacup. It’s enough to snap them both out of whatever is happening.
Oh, it’s so selfish of me, but I wish so much that these two would find their way to one another.
I turn to Jonah, but he just smiles and shakes his head. We can talk about this later, too.
Callie says, smoothing her skirt and clearly pretending she didn’t just get lost in Will’s gorgeous brown eyes for a long moment in front of four other people, “I wonder if Kellan has gone there.”
“He came that first time Chloe and I went, too,” Jonah admits. “I mean, he was only there for maybe ten minutes, but he came, too.”
Cameron passes Astrid a napkin and she dabs her eyes. She’s smiling, though. Smiling so beautifully wide that I can only hope that someday I’ll be able to look at one of my children like that, too.
“Did you like Italy?” Will asks me.
“I did,” I tell him. “I loved it.” I squeeze my husband’s hand. “It helps that Jonah’s fluent, because I’m awful at Italian and, you know, languages in general.” I can’t help but tease, “And he’s pretty damn hot when he’s speaking it, too.” I pretend to fan myself.
I love that Jonah blushes for a second time in a single night. That he’s let his guard down enough to not feel like he has to maintain an in control fa?ade 24/7 around everyone, even in front of Cameron and Will. That we are now, definitely, absolutely, one big family. That he’s finally letting people in after years of being the one in control.
“Jonah has always been so wonderful at picking up languages,” Astrid says. “His accents are exquisite.” And then, “Mi rendi così orgoglioso, figlio mio. Lo sempre hai.”
And he says in return, “Ti voglio bene, mamma. Grazie per non aver mai rinunciato a me.”
She stands up, her flowing skirt swishing softly, and hugs him. There’s no need to ask him later what they’ve just said, because it’s obvious. And it’s so beautiful I can hardly stand it.
As we lay in bed later, I decide not to push Jonah on any of the details about Kellan’s sabbatical. The truth is ... this is between them. Kellan has asked for space, and he deserves exactly that.
I count to ten and take a deep breath. Jonah told me once that, when things seem too hard, I should take a breath, because sometimes we don’t need to look at the end game to get through the day. If it all seems too hard, we can get through the next breath, and then the next minute. Then the hour, then the day. Inch by inch, step by step.