Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 447 -

*Olivia*

I hummed happily, the charcoal scratching on paper as my eyes flickered from the picture on my phone to the drawing I was sketching out with one hand. Trust the process, I reminded myself as I scrutinized all the little mistakes I saw building up.

"Right, baby?" I whispered, beaming as I followed my other arm to where it was lying inside the bassinet. It had set up right next to our bed, and sleeping soundly inside was baby Elio.

He clung to my hand in his sleep, drooling all over it as he used it as a makeshift pillow. I was surprised by how much strength he had gotten in only three months, but he was just like his daddy.

True to my vision, his hair had filled out with fluffy dark curls like his daddy's, his skin a few shades darker than mine but lighter than Gio's. You could see his Italian heritage just with one look, but his eyes were all mine-soft and brown with a lazy little droop to them. Our eyes were identical, and I was really happy about that. At least he had inherited something from me that no one could deny.

Otherwise, though, he looked like a little clone of Gio. Just like I had envisioned. I moved my numb fingers, gently brushing my thumb against his soft chubby cheeks, and I chuckled as he scrunched up his nose just like I did. Things hadn't always been so peaceful though. The first week of his life was a trying time for all of us.

Elio had taken to me like a fish to water, much to my surprise. He wanted to be held and doted on at all times, and I was his favorite person to do so. I was happy, of course, that I had been able to bond with him so easily, but my overzealous coddling had resulted in a very bad habit.

By the second day, he would start wailing the minute I put him down in his bassinet or tried handing him over to anyone else. Gio was incredibly put out as the baby started screaming anytime he caught sight of his daddy's face, and usually, it ended with me trying to comfort both of my boys at the same time.

That first week was utter chaos, and I was using muscles I didn't even know I had.

My back and arms were sore and turning numb from the constant swaying movement I had to use to keep him calm and happy.

I had to learn how to put him in his bassinet in just the right way so he didn't wake up and start screaming again, which was a trial and error that I failed on multiple occasions.

My voice went hoarse after singing so many lullabies and folksongs back to back hoping to get him to sleep for just an hour or two, but many times with no luck.

I had even googled the translation of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in Italian, but it was worth it to see little Elio drift off after a long, sleepless night.

I'd pass him off to Gio for a few hours, the only time Elio wouldn't start wailing at the sight of him, collapse into bed or the couch or the floor, wherever was closest, and then wake up once Elio started screaming for his bottle. And then I'd do it all again.

"He asleep?"

I smiled, glancing at the doorway where Gio had snuck in without a sound. He looked a bit wary, glancing at the bassinet as if he could check to see himself. "You're safe," I told him, giggling as he tip-toed inside.

He had learned as I had the importance of being extremely quiet, but due to that, our senses of one another had gotten so much stronger. I could tell his steps apart from anyone else; even the way he breathed was too familiar to hide. Gio pressed his hands onto the bed next to my sketch, leaning down to kiss me deeply. We broke apart in less than a second as a little sigh came from next to us. We froze, waiting with bated breath as Elio's eyes fluttered open, and he gripped my fingers a little tighter before he settled once more, breathing peacefully as he fell back into dreamland.

We gave a silent breath of relief, then grinned at one another in unison. Gio rolled onto the bed, curling into my side as I lay on my stomach all spread out. He used his arm as a pillow, gazing up at me with a doting smile. "How's Mom?" I asked quietly.

"She just went to her room for a nap," he whispered back.

I suppressed a humorous smile as he grabbed the ends of his earlobe, a hint of nervousness on his face.

If there was one thing I was grateful for during all of the chaos of having a baby, it was my family. They had rallied when we needed them to, taking some of the burden off our shoulders.

My mom had flown in from the States to meet the baby, and when she took one look at the bags under my eyes, she announced that she was staying for a while. I was anxious when she picked up Elio, and he started crying like he did with everyone else, but she had only shushed him a few times, singing a lullaby from my childhood, and then he was out like a light.

I'd slept for eighteen hours straight. By the time I woke up, Gio had picked up on Elio's schedule very quickly, taking time off work to give me a little bit of a break.

Dahlia filled me in on the details afterward, but apparently, my mom had grabbed him by the ear and told him firmly he was going to be on paternity leave for the rest of the month while she showed him how to care for a baby. His response?

"Yes, ma'am."

Now, anytime I even mentioned her, he would grab his earlobe like he expected her to materialize and snatch it with a cackle.

"Any new packages from Dahlia?" I asked with a smile, and he rolled his eyes, sending a glare to our closet, which was now filled up with presents.

Dahlia took an active approach to spoiling little Elio, taking her job as godmother very seriously. She would come home often after a shopping spree, having bought him whatever struck her fancy, and soon enough, the baby's room was filled to the brim with fluffy blankets and stuffed animals, books, and enough adorable tiny socks to fill an entire drawer.

After the first month, it began to spill out into the closet and even the guest room. We warned her to stop, but every once in a while, she came home with some little outfit for him that she just knew he would look adorable in.

But she wasn't just spoiling him and running. She took an active interest in helping out too. The first time she fed him, he threw up all over her shirt. She took it in stride though, scolding him playfully and reminding him that if he wasn't so damn cute, she would've been throwing hands, baby or not.

Elena came often just to chat as she told us about her recovery after giving birth. She had taken the month off school to recover and started classes online so she wouldn't fall behind. She lent a hand when she could, her awkwardness around the baby understandable. But she seemed happier and more at ease now that she knew where she stood with us.

Tallon and Alessandro had done their best, and much to my surprise, Tallon took to baby Elio, often playing with him whenever he had time. No one could bring a smile to baby Elio's face faster than Tallon.

Alessandro had been a little more reluctant to interact with the baby, but after Dahlia tricked him into holding him, and we'd snapped a photo of his frozen body, he had quickly been won over by the sunny smile of our baby. Gabriele still hadn't warmed up to him yet, but after Elio learned to grab and hand things to people, he'd gifted Gabriele with his one of his socks with little blue fishies on them. When it went missing, he claimed he'd lost it, but I had caught him with it a few times since.

To his credit, the baby socks were incredibly adorable and so small.

After our family started to help us out, Gio and I had a much better time managing between being new parents and our other responsibilities, and more importantly, keeping our relationship healthy and strong.

The small gestures we went out of our way to do-kisses and little touches that just made my heart soar-were the reassurances that played a significant part in keeping us on the same page, moving like one unit, and making sure we never drifted apart like we had in the past.

We both adored Elio, but I would never trade the little moments we got to steal between our busy lives, intimate conversations when we had to wake up with the baby in the early morning hours, whispering with our baby cuddled between us. Even now, with his head laid against my arm as I drew, my other hand pulled into the mouth of our little drooly baby, these were the moments I wouldn't trade for anything.

As Gio brushed his fingers through my hair, however, I caught sight of the dark brown smudge under his fingernails.

"What'd you plant in the garden?" I asked, amused.

"A strawberry tree and some sea marigolds," he answered absentmindedly as he tugged a knot from my long hair.

The casual way he answered would've had me in tears only months ago-the thought of Gio personally tending to the garden and planting flowers and trees-but now, it was completely normal.

We'd talked after the first month, and the two of us had taken to realizing how important taking care of ourselves was. Gio's first act was to throw out all the alcohol he had left, giving some away to Gabriele and Alessandro.

He vowed to stop for good, wanting to be here for a long time for me and Elio. I believed him, supporting him every step of the way. We both took up small little hobbies to get a breath of fresh air.

Gio took to the garden, much to my surprise, planting and rebuilding new structures and pathways as a means to keep himself calm. Elio and I would cheer him on from the sidelines, offering our input when he asked for it but mostly letting him have time for himself.

I had taken to my art room more often these days, finally learning and appreciating the art form of still-lives as I drew Elio and Gio over and over in different mediums. They were my muses, and with each painting, I felt my soul growing a bit lighter. It was a good outlet, but it also made both of us more present in our lives with Elio and ourselves.

"What are you drawing?" he asked, leaning over to catch a glimpse. He caught sight of the photo on my phone and sent me a knowing look.

"Another still-life?" He chuckled. "Aren't you getting tired of those yet?"

"Nope," I grinned. "I'm almost finished with this one, too. I'm hoping to turn it into a painting."

"Hm." He tilted his head, giving me a small smile. "It's gorgeous, carina. Want me to trim a topiary of those handsome devils in the garden?"

I shoved his arm as he sent me a half-teasing grin. No doubt if I said yes, he'd have it planted and pruned by morning. As I glanced down at my charcoal drawing of Gio and Elio sleeping on one early morning, Elio curled up on his chest as both of them had the same open-mouthed expression, I realized it wouldn't do very well as a topiary.

But it made just the perfect drawing.

"I love you," I sighed in contentment, squeezing the hand still stuck in Elio's hands and the hand Gio had curled in his. I loved my boys more than I could ever express.

"I love you, too," Gio answered, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Forever and ever, carina."