Chapter 7 - The Family Nobody Could Put a Price On
The doctor placed my new scans on the screen.
Arthur sat beside me.
I almost hadn’t allowed him to come.
Then I realized I wanted him there.
The doctor pointed toward the image.
“My original conclusion was too absolute.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your condition makes natural pregnancy extremely difficult.”
“But not impossible?”
“Not necessarily.”
Arthur squeezed my hand.
I barely noticed.
“So I can have children?”
“Potentially, with specialized treatment. But I want to be very clear: there are no guarantees.”
I stared at the monitor.
Months earlier, those words would have controlled my entire future.
Now they didn’t.
I looked at Arthur.
He was watching me, not the screen.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you okay?”
I laughed softly.
“That’s the first question my parents should have asked.”
Arthur lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.
“Then answer it.”
I thought about it.
“Yes.”
The doctor smiled.
“We can discuss options whenever you’re ready.”
I shook my head.
“Not yet.”
Outside the clinic, Arthur opened the car door for me.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve wanted children.”
“I still do.”
He frowned slightly.
I smiled.
“Arthur, I already have four.”
For several seconds, the most feared man in Chicago couldn’t speak.
Then he looked away.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make me emotional on a sidewalk.”
I laughed.
“You have a reputation?”
“Exactly.”
That evening, the children were waiting at home.
Isabella ran toward me.
“What did the doctor say?”
Arthur stared at her.
“How did you know?”
“Luca.”
Everyone looked at Luca.
He shrugged.
“What?”
I knelt in front of Isabella.
“He said maybe I could have a baby someday.”
Her eyes widened.
“A real baby?”
Matteo groaned.
“What other kind is there?”
“A puppy baby.”
“That’s called a puppy.”
Isabella ignored him.
“Would it live here?”
“Yes.”
She considered that.
“Okay.”
Sofia laughed.
“That’s all?”
Isabella nodded.
“But I want a sister.”
Arthur loosened his tie.
“We’re getting dangerously ahead of ourselves.”
Luca looked at me.
“Does this change anything?”
I understood what he was really asking.
I walked toward him.
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
Months passed.
My father eventually accepted a plea agreement.
My mother moved away from Chicago.
I testified once.
Then I stopped looking backward.
Arthur changed too.
He came home earlier.
He attended school events.
He learned how to make pancakes without destroying the kitchen.
Mostly.
And our marriage stopped feeling like an arrangement.
One year after the night at the Continental, Arthur brought me back there.
Same booth.
Same dark wood.
Same chandelier.
But everything felt different.
He ordered bourbon.
I smiled.
“Trying to recreate the night you bought me?”
Arthur’s expression immediately hardened.
“I never bought you.”
“I know.”
He reached into his jacket.
Then placed a small velvet box on the table.
I stared at it.
“We’re already married.”
“I know.”
“What is that?”
“The ring I should have given you when I asked properly.”
He opened the box.
Inside was a simple diamond ring.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Nothing like the jewelry my mother had once chosen to advertise my value.
Arthur took my hand.
“The first time I asked you to marry me, you needed an escape.”
I swallowed.
“This time you don’t.”
“No.”
“You have your own money.”
“Yes.”
“Your own home if you want one.”
“Yes.”
“And four children who would probably follow you there.”
I laughed.
“Definitely Isabella.”
“Definitely.”
Arthur’s thumb moved across my fingers.
“So this time there’s no debt.”
“No deal.”
“No obligation.”
“No.”
His gray eyes held mine.
“Evelyn Costa, knowing exactly who I am, will you choose me again?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
He slid the ring onto my finger.
Applause suddenly erupted behind us.
I turned.
Four terrible spies emerged from behind another booth.
“Seriously?”
Sofia laughed.
“Dad made us hide.”
“I did not,” Arthur said.
Luca pointed at him.
“He absolutely did.”
Isabella ran toward us.
“Did she say yes?”
Arthur lifted her into his arms.
“She did.”
“Again?”
“Again.”
Isabella wrapped one arm around Arthur and reached the other toward me.
I joined them.
Matteo complained that he was hungry.
Sofia wanted pictures.
Luca pretended he was too old to care while smiling anyway.
I looked around the table.
A year earlier, my father had brought me into this room believing my worth could be calculated.
Three million dollars.
A family name.
A marriage contract.
The ability to produce an heir.
He had been wrong about all of it.
Arthur touched my hand beneath the table.
“You okay?”
I looked at my husband.
Then at our children.
“Yes.”
This time, I meant it completely.
Because the best thing Arthur Costa ever gave me wasn’t money.
It wasn’t protection.
It wasn’t even love.
It was the one thing my own family had tried to take away.
A choice.
And every morning afterward, when four children came thundering down the stairs and Arthur complained about the noise while secretly smiling, I made that choice again.
I chose them.
They chose me.
And for the first time in my life, nobody asked what I was worth.
May you like
I was simply family.
THE END
