Chapter 10 - The Calm Yellow Light
Five years later.
The morning sun filtered through the grand bay windows of a beautiful coastal home in suburban Evanston, just north of Chicago.
Natalie sat at a wide oak dining table, sipping her morning coffee while reviewing lesson plans for the Carter-DeLuca Foundation for Sensory Development—a non-profit organization she and Damian had founded to build sensory-friendly classrooms in public schools across Illinois.
From the backyard came the sound of laughter and splashing water.
Natalie walked to the patio glass doors and looked out.
In the custom sensory swimming pool, Damian was splashing around with ten-year-old Ava and their four-year-old son, Leo. Damian, the once-feared underworld kingpin of Chicago, was currently wearing a silly inflated dinosaur floatie around his waist, letting little Leo spray him with a water gun while Ava cheered hysterically from the steps.
Ava had grown into a brilliant, confident young girl. She was an accomplished young painter whose artwork was featured in local galleries, and her sensory challenges were now something she managed with ease and self-assurance.
Damian caught sight of Natalie standing at the door. He tossed the water gun to Leo, stepped out of the pool, and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked up to the patio.
"Good morning, Mrs. DeLuca," Damian said, stepping up to her and wrapping his wet arms around her waist, pulling her close despite her light linen dress.
"You're getting me wet, Mr. DeLuca," Natalie giggled, leaning into his chest and resting her hands on his shoulders.
"I don't care," Damian whispered, pressing a warm kiss against her lips.
He looked past her toward the quiet, beautiful sunlit garden where their children were playing safely in the bright morning air. The scars on his body and the shadows of his past were still there, but they no longer defined him. They were merely the dark path he had walked to reach this absolute paradise.
Ava ran up from the pool, holding a small watercolor painting she had finished earlier that morning. She held it up proudly to her parents.
It was a painting of four figures standing under a bright, warm sun—painted in brilliant, radiant yellow.
"Look, Natty! Look, Daddy!" Ava beamed. "I painted our family."
May you like
Damian kneeled down, pulling Ava and little Leo into a tight hug with one arm, while reaching up to take Natalie’s hand with the other.
"It’s beautiful, sweetheart," Damian said softly, looking up at his wife with eyes full of everlasting love. "It’s the calmest yellow I’ve ever seen."
