Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Refused to Shrink
The wedding was small.
No mansion.
No giant ballroom.
No celebrities.
Just family and friends.
Mave wore a simple ivory gown.
Roman wore a dark suit.
The ceremony took place in the diner.
Their diner.
The place where everything began.
After the vows, Roman whispered to her.
“I still remember the first night.”
“I remember you staring.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
“I had never seen anyone look more exhausted and more alive at the same time.”
She laughed.
“That makes no sense.”
“It did to me.”
They danced beneath the old neon sign.
The same sign had been restored.
The R and I finally worked.
Mave looked up.
“You fixed it.”
Roman smiled.
“You shouldn't have to live under broken letters.”
She kissed him.
Months passed.
Marriage was not perfect.
They argued.
Mave hated Roman's tendency to solve problems with money.
Roman hated Mave's refusal to ask for help.
She burned dinner.
He destroyed a washing machine.
They laughed.
They learned.
The diner became a beloved neighborhood institution.
Mave expanded the menu.
She hired former inmates.
She offered discounted meals to hospital workers.
She opened a food program for children.
Roman helped quietly.
He never put his name on anything.
He preferred hers.
One morning, Mave discovered something strange.
A positive pregnancy test.
She stared.
Then sat on the bathroom floor.
Roman found her twenty minutes later.
“Mave?”
She didn't answer.
He knocked.
“Are you okay?”
She opened the door.
He looked at her.
Then at the test.
His face changed completely.
“Are you serious?”
She nodded.
He laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
Mave laughed too.
He dropped to his knees and put both hands around her waist.
“We're having a baby.”
“Yes.”
He pressed his forehead to her stomach.
“I've never been this scared.”
She stroked his hair.
“Me neither.”
“You think I'll be a good father?”
She smiled.
“You already are.”
He looked up.
“How?”
“Because you asked.”
Months later, the diner held a baby shower.
Victoria planned most of it.
Mary made cupcakes.
Hector cooked enough food for fifty people.
Roman stood in the middle of it all looking overwhelmed.
Mave laughed.
“You don't know what to do.”
“No.”
“You're Roman Costa.”
“Apparently that means nothing around pregnant women.”
She kissed him.
“You'll survive.”
Their daughter was born in winter.
They named her Rose.
Roman cried when he held her.
Mave had never seen him look so peaceful.
The feared mafia boss became the man who woke up at 3 a.m. to warm a bottle.
The man who once controlled docks and warehouses became obsessed with tiny socks.
The man everyone feared sang lullabies badly.
Mave secretly recorded him.
He found out.
“You wouldn't.”
She smiled.
“I already did.”
He chased her around the kitchen.
She laughed.
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Their life was ordinary.
And ordinary, Mave discovered, was extraordinary.
