Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly

my own heart skipped a beat. She cradled Simona against her chest, who still
looked sleepy.
“Happy birthday, birthday boy,” she said as she walked in. “How about
cake?”
Giulia lit three candles on top of a cake, which was sprinkled with what I
learned was funfetti. Daniele’s eyes became wide as he took in the cake. I lifted
him on one of the chairs so he could get a good look at it. “You have to blow out
the candles and make a wish.”
Simona tried to lean away from Giulia to touch the candles, and her face
scrunched up in frustration when she couldn’t. “Do you need help?” Giulia asked
Daniele as he blew out only one candle with his first attempt.
“You’re three, a big boy. You can do it,” I told him.
He gave a small nod and blew even harder. Both candles snuffed out this
time.
“Good.”
Giulia beamed as she cut the first piece of the cake. When she pulled it out,
its colorful layers became visible.
“Wow,” Daniele breathed. I froze, unable to believe what I’d heard. One
simple word, the first word Daniele had spoken in my presence in months.
Wow, indeed.
I had to agree with him, not just because of the rainbow funfetti cake. Giulia
set down a plate in front of me and sank down on a chair with Simona on her lap,
who used the moment to shove her fingers into Giulia’s cake slice.
Giulia’s laugh rang out like a bell as she snatched up Simona’s tiny hand and
put it in her mouth to lick away the buttercream before wiping the remains off
with a napkin. I couldn’t stop staring at her.
She noticed, her expression morphing from embarrassment to confusion. She
felt her face as if she expected there to be more cake then brushed out her bangs
in the nervous gesture she often expressed. I couldn’t believe I’d focused on
what I perceived as wrong with Giulia—like her bangs, her quirky dresses, her
age—when I first met her instead of realizing what was good. And there were so
many things that even the small annoyances faded into the background. Giulia
was perfect for my kids and me. Maybe because of her age because she was still
youthfully optimistic, naively reckless, and daringly unconventional.
She wasn’t what I’d wanted in a wife, but hell, if she wasn’t exactly what I
needed.