Chapter 65
Luci
21 Weeks Pregnant
W hile I don’t want to leave Alessandro, I can’t keep everyone waiting on us anymore. Especially with what I could only imagine El and Andrea are horrifying Father Angelo with. My grandparents don’t even hold hands when we go to mass and thinking of the things El and Andrea consider ‘innocent’ makes me almost laugh.
“Ah Luciana, there you are. Where has Alessandro gone? You two better not have been having relations with a priest in the house. I swear he has nothing better to do than embarrass this family.” He must see the mortification on my face, one I’ve never been able to hide before continuing. “No matter. Let us enjoy the evening.”
“Why are you always hard on Alessandro?” The words I’ve been wondering for months escape my mouth before I get a chance to stop them. Geno turns to me, his hard face softening at the mention of me questioning his love for Alessandro.
“I love mio nipote more than I could ever explain and that’s why I’m hard on him. He’s the future of this family and my legacy after Salvatore left us.”
“That’s your son, right?” Alessandro and I have spoken about his mamma’s death shortly after he was born, but the moment I asked about his papa he shut me down.
“Yes.” Geno’s curt answer makes it obvious he didn’t intend to let that slip. “Now where is Alessandro? The whole point of a reception is to have the husband and wife make an appearance. Alessandro! Andiamo!”
Alessandro’s signature footsteps and annoyed voice come down the hallway. “Yes, yes, yes I know.” I only saw him moments ago, but seeing him adjust his cufflinks as he comes out of the hallway makes me want to drag him into a room this time. I’m allowed to think this way now that he’s my husband, right? Either that or these hormones are getting out of control.
Father Angelo’s voice appears around the opposite corner, bringing shame at what I was thinking and doing. According to my upbringing, what happened in the mudroom should be done in private when no one is visiting, regardless of the fact that Alessandro is my husband. I doubt that’s a rule many people follow.
“Everyone in this home needs to come to confession. I’m tired of seeing and knowing all the sin that’s happened in this house since I stepped foot in here. Yes, Geno, that includes you and we both know why.” Alessandro and I share a look, wondering what he means.
In an attempt to break the obvious tension in this home, I spray out the first thing I can think of. “Let’s go get cake!”
“Si, I agree.” Geno avoids Father Angelo’s words and everyone else’s thoughts.
The rest of the evening is perfect. Cake, conversation, and company make everything we’ve gone through worth it. Enzo comes in just as everyone is about to leave with letters in his hand.
“My apologies for the interruption. Luci, these were delivered and I think you’ll want them.” Enzo hands three envelopes to me and I immediately notice the distinct handwriting from each of them. They’re letters from my family.
Alessandro must recognize what I’m thinking as he takes charge of the situation. “Okay everyone, stay, leave, whatever you want. Luci and I are going upstairs to read these.”
“Well . . . ” I know instantly the people pleaser in me wants to say nothing, but these letters will upset me, which means it’ll upset Alessandro even more.
“Well, what?”
“I’m going to read these alone. I need to, Alessandro.” I can sense his eyes burning into me while I avoid eye contact with him.
He bites his tongue, and I understand it’s not what he wants, but he knows it’s what I need. “Fine. Know that I will not hesitate to barge in if I think you’re upset or need me.”
I nod in response before walking up to Enzo and grab the letters he’s holding out for me.
“Are you ready?” Alessandro follows me up to the spare bedroom, unlocking the door as he gives me the privacy I need. When I step into the room, I stare down at my shaking hands that hold the letters. Do I want to read these? Would this break my heart or give me closure? There’s only one way to find out.
I take a deep shaky breath before grabbing the first letter at random, my nonna’s polished handwriting, and begin to read.