Chapter 77- A Romano Christmas
Lucia.
Snow fell in perfect crystalline flakes outside the Romano estate’s grand windows, nature conspiring with my perfectionist husband to create the winter wonderland he’d demanded. The massive Christmas tree sparkled with generations of omaments, each placed with military precision under Dante’s exacting supervision. Even the garlands had been menured to ensure exactly equal spacing
Some things really never changed
“Papa, is it time for presents yet?” Isabella bounced on her toes beside Dante’s chair, her dark curls escaping the careful brauks Julia had attempted earlier. Al four, our ellest had inherited both her father’s commanding presence and my complete inability to sit still..
“Patience, principessa Dante caught her mid–bounce, sending her on lais lap with practiced case. First we wait for everyone to arrive.
“But everyone’s already here!” She gestured dramatically at the packed living room, where both our families had gathered for Christmas Eve
celebrations
She wasn’t wrong. The Romano estate buzzed with happy chaos as children raced between adults legs and comversations flowed in mixed talian and English Sofia’s twins had discovered the cookie platter, leaving trails of crumbs across priceless Persian rugs. Maria’s little ones napped in a pile of cashmere blankets while their mother discussed foundation business with Marco. Even my brothers had settled into comfortable domesticity, their
own children adding to the cheerful maybein
“Not quite everyone.” Teorened, shifting two year old Alessandro my hip as he fought sleep. Our youngest
gest for now had his father’s perfect features but my tendency toward dramatic resistance of bedtime. “Uncle Antonin and Aum Enmu are still coming with baby Nico.”
“And they better hurry.” Dante muttered, checking his watch with his free hand. The gift distribution schedule is very precise.”
Thit back a laugh. “Did you actually create a spreadsheet for Christmas presents!”
Hi silence was telling.
“Oh my God, you dal.” I sank onto the arm of his chair, careful not to disturls Alessandro’s finally drooping head. “Please tell me you didn’t assign time slots for each person’s gifts
“Color–coded by family branch,” he admitted without a hunt of shame. “With optimal unwrapping sequences
sequences for maximum aesthetic impact.
“Papa Hikes everything perfect.” Isabells informed me solemnly. “Like how he made the cleaning ladies redo the tinsel fourteen Times”
Thirteen.” Dante corrected automatically. The fourteenth attempt achieved acceptable symmetry”
I pressed a kiss to his temple, breathing in the familiar went of sandalwood and control–freak determination. “My unpossible man ”
The door burst open before he could defend his uel obsession, admitting a snow–covered Antonio with Emma and baby Nica in tour. My youngest brother had traded his wild–child ways for domestic bliss, though his grin still carried hints of mischief.
“Sorry we’re late!” Enuna called out, unwrapping Nico from approximately seventeen layers of winter gear. “Someone insisted on checking every Christmas light in the garden display for exact color temperature.”
All eyes turned to Dante
That was actually Antonio this time,” Exuma clarified with a laugh. “Apparently perfectionism is contagious in this family.”
Speaking of perfectionism.” Sofia waddled over, one hand supporting her very pregnant belly while the other tried in corral her sugar–high twins, “Please tell me we can stan the presents now before these two discover more creative uses for Mama’s antique omumenti.”
Dante consulted his watch with the gravity of a military commander. The schedule indicates gift distribution should commence at precisely
“Now!” labella launched herself off his lap with the grace of a tiny gymnast. “Presents now!”
What followed was organized chaos as children for into carefully wrapped packages while adulis tried to maintain some semblance of order. Dante, naturally, attempted to enforce his carefully planned umerapping sequence. The children, naturally, iquored him completely.
“The green ones were supposed to be opened third,” he muttered as wrapping paper flow. “After the silver and before the gold. It disrupts the whole color progression.
“Shl.” I pressed another kiss to his temple, “Let them be children.”
His protest died as Alessandro finally lost his battle with sleep, tiny snores filling the air as he cuddled closer to my chest. Dante’s expression softened as he watched our son, all thoughts of perfect gift coordination forgotten.
“He looks like you when he sleeps, I observed quietly. “All those careful walls down.”
“God help him” But Dante’s smile held nothing but love as he traced our son’s perfect features. “Pour child, cursed with Romano genes.”
“Such a curse.” I teased. “Devastating good looks, brilliant minds, and enough stubbarines to reshape the world through sheer determination.“
“Don’t forget the control–freak tendencies and inability to leave anything to chance”
“Oli trust me. I never forget those.” I shifted Alessandro carefully. “I live with the king of control freaks, remember?”
His laugh rumbled through his chest as he pulled me clover, careful not to disturb our sleeping son. Around us, the chaos of Christmas continued children exclaiming over presents, adults sharing wine and laughter, both our families woven together with hands stronger than blood.
Julia’s daughters showed off new dance outfits while their mother beamed. Solia’s neins had somehow acquired more cookies despite Emma’s best
Chapter 77- A Romano Christmas
efforts at sugar control. Marco discussed business expansion with Papa whale Mama Romano supervised the placement of new toys with military precision that would have made Dante proud.
“Happy” Dante murmured against my hair.
1 looked around an our perfectly imperfect family – former rivals turned loving relatives, wild children and careful adults, all the messy joy that couldn’t be contained in spreadsheets or schedules.
“Perfect,” I whispered back. “Even if someone did create a color–coded gift distribution timeline
“The timeline is essential for optimal-
Isilenced him with a kiss that tasted of cookies and wine and forever love. When I pulled back, his careful control had softened into something
WJTIDICE
Tiamo, he murmured. “My perfectly impossible wife.
“Tiamo. Touched his cheek, heart full of everything we’d built together. “My ridiculously perfect husband.”
Isabella chose that moment to demonstrate her new gymnastics moves, nearly toppling the Christmas tree in the process: Dante moved with his ustal liquid grace to prevent botanicni disaster while I laughed quietly, careful not to wake Alessandro
Some things really never changed. But watching my control–freak husband abandon his careful gift schedule to help our daughter perfect her camcheel… watching our families share love and laughter without a hant of their old rivalry watching the future unfold in sticky fingers and scattered wrapping paper and perfectly imperfect noments
This was better than any fairy tale.
This was real magic.
Forever magic.
The kind that filled nurseries with sticky fingers and turned powerful men into devoted fathers and wove families together with unbreakable
bords.
The kind that lasted forever
“Forever,” Danie whispered, somehow reading my thou
my thoughts as always.
“Forever,” Lagreed, surrounded by our perfectly imperfect happily ever after.
And in was.
The End
