Ep 1

Epilogue
Dominic
“Now, for tonight’s story. The NYPD has stated that this is the biggest arrest in all the city’s history,” the news anchor informs flatly, staring into the camera like she’s trying to burrow into my very soul. “Arrests of several high-ranking members of the Russian, Irish, and Italian Mafias took place last night in what can only be described as a well-executed sting operation that took years of careful planning.”
It’s late, nothing but the moonlight and the flicker of the TV screen illuminating the room. I’m seated on the couch, a whiskey in hand, as I watch with mild interest. It’s been many years since I left the mob behind, but news like this can’t go ignored.
Shaky video shows uniformed officers escorting entire groups of handcuffed men. I recognize a few of them, but the majority of the big players are unknown to me. Sometimes I’m curious where everyone wound up. Old associates and colleagues… I wonder if any of them made it out like I did.
Highly unlikely, but a man can hope.
As I watch the late-night news unfold, I can’t help but reminisce. It’s only in hindsight that I realize how lost I’d been, dedicating my life to such a malignant cause. When I was a young man, I was desperate for the feeling of belonging. Now I realize just how misguided I’d been. I look back at who I was; that man is a stranger to me. How could I ever put the Family before family?
“Sweetheart?”
Arin rounds the corner, yawning wide as she pulls on one of my sweaters for warmth. It’s way too big for her, cutting off at just above her knees. She circles the front of the couch and takes a seat beside me, squinting against the bright light of the television.
“Did the sound wake you?” I ask.
“No. Bed got cold. What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I tilt my chin at the screen. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles, leaning over to rest her cheek on my shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder…”
“What?”
“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to me. If I’d stayed.”
Arin places her hand on my knee and squeezes. “Probably dead for real or rotting behind bars. You would have missed out on this.” She gestures vaguely at the home we’ve made for ourselves.
I kiss the top of her hair, breathing in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. “Thank God I didn’t.”
“What’s done is done,” my wife assures me. “You made some bad choices, yes. But you made good ones, too. In the end, that’s all that matters.”
I wrap an arm over her shoulder and bring her in close, thinking about all the close calls we’ve had. Needless to say, I’m in a strange headspace tonight. I’m one of the lucky ones, blessed with a beautiful wife, darling children, and a third one on the way.
“Come to bed, sweetheart,” she whispers, rubbing her belly. She’s two months along. We haven’t told anyone yet, but it’s only a matter of time.
“Alright, dolcezza. I’m coming.”
We return to our bedroom together, hand in hand, our bodies curling up together beneath the sheets. The whole house is quiet, the air still and warm. When the edge of a nightmare tries to take over my dreams, the light scent of Arin’s vanilla shampoo and the feel of her silky skin is all I need to push those thoughts away. I sleep peacefully at my wife’s side, grateful for the life she’s given me.