Chapter 14 Allegra
ALLEGRA
Lia goes to my closet and takes out a simple white dress.
"It's nothing special, since Chiara had to wear your wedding dress. But you'll look beautiful in it." The genuine smile on her face lets me know she's not lying just to make me feel better.
"Thank you." My voice is filled with emotion. I take off my clothes, and Lia is horrified when she sees my wound. I shake my head at her—now is not the time to get into details.
I slip the dress on and then let Lia fix my hair. Just as she's pinning the last strand to my updo, my mother walks through the door.
"You must be proud of yourself," she jeers at me, closing the door behind her.
"But you chose the wrong man, my dear." She gives a fake laugh, hostility coating her words.
"I don't know how you embroiled him in this, but make no mistake, he's just using you.
You'll be the ugly, unassuming peasant wife raising his kids at home while he's having fun with his whores. "
My eyes widen at her words, but she just continues.
"When you see his string of mistresses, every single one prettier, younger"—she looks me up and down—"and skinnier than you, you'll die a little inside." Mother smirks, crossing her arms in front of her. "And I'll have a front seat to the spectacle that will be your unhappiness."
"I don't care." I push my chin up, trying to show some strength, even though her words hit their mark.
"You may not care now, but we'll see. Remember my words. You thought to sabotage your sister, and you'll pay. And there's nothing worse than hope that turns into despair." She doesn't wait for my reply as she exits the room.
"Don't mind her, miss," Lia tries to comfort me.
While I've at times entertained my idealistic side, I am, most of all, a realist. And though I know she said all that to hurt me, I'm not ignorant. I know he'll have mistresses. I know I don't matter to him.
I can only hope he won't matter to me either.
With one last look in the mirror, I decide I won't let my mother win. If I have to close my heart to everything, then so be it.
But I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.
I'll be happy. Even if it kills me inside.
When we're done, we go downstairs, and I take my place next to Enzo. He hasn't looked at me yet, his attention focused wholly on my father and whatever they're discussing.
But I'm surprised when I feel his hand on top of mine, moving it to intertwine our fingers. I accept the touch, trying to put the conversation with my mother out of my mind.
When the priest arrives, we're led into the courtyard where villagers are boisterously laughing and singing, celebrating the wedding. There's food and drink for everyone.
"Is this…" I ask, amazed at the display.
"I had to force your father's hand somehow. A public announcement was the best way, since he values his image too much," Enzo replies, tugging me closer to him and leading me to the priest.
The religious ceremony is short, and the moment we say I do, music starts blasting from the street, the villagers shouting congratulations at us.
"Come." Enzo leads me to an open carriage, helping me up. "We need to give them a show."
The horses neigh, and Enzo takes the reins, leading them forward. We start at a slow trot, and as we move down the street, everyone is outside their house, clapping and shouting words of congratulations, health, and love.
"When did you manage this?" I'm in awe. This isn't something that's spontaneously planned.
"I may have whispered in the ear of the village gossip a while ago. It didn't take long for everyone to follow along. After all, there's free food and wine." He winks at me, and I don't know whether to be scandalized or impressed.
After we take a turn around the village, we're back at the house.
My parents are trying their best to entertain the guests with fake smiles, pretending they'd known about this secondary wedding all along.
They'd just wanted to marry their eldest before proceeding with the youngest—or so their excuse goes.
We spend some time with the guests. Suddenly, we’re rushed and locked inside a room.
"What…" I look around at the barren room, a single bed with white linens in the center.
"I assume they expect us to consummate the marriage," Enzo says slowly, quirking an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah, no," I put my hand up, "that's not happening, Mister." I take my shoes off, throw them on the floor, and lie on the bed, confused.
The entire thing has been a whirlwind affair, and I haven't even had time to come to grips with what's happening.
I'm married. To him.
I look at him from the corner of my eye. He's propped with his back against the door, watching me intently.
"Why did you do it?" I raise myself up on my elbows.
"I told you. I don't like to be indebted to anyone. This marriage will ensure your safety."
"Nothing else?" I ask, skeptical. In the short time I've known Enzo, I've come to realize he does nothing without an ulterior motive.
"What else? You took a bullet for me; I took a vow for you." He sheds his jacket, discarding it on the floor before joining me on the bed.
I scramble to move away from him, but he pins me to the spot.
"Where are you running to? We have a wedding night to consummate, cara." His voice holds his usual charm, and I roll my eyes at him.
"You don't want this any more than I do, so let's drop the charade."
"And you know what I want, how?" Raising an eyebrow at me, he catches a stray strand of my hair, tugging until my entire updo collapses, my hair flowing freely down my back.
I turn fully toward him.
"You may be a handsome devil, Enzo Agosti, but you don't fool me," I say, looking into his eyes.
His pupils dilate, his unusually light eyes becoming darker.
"I can see the emptiness inside you. You put on a mask and keep everyone at arm's length.
You flirt, play games, and push the limits, but it's all for show. "
"And you're suddenly an expert on me?" All amusement is gone from his voice, and I think I catch the first glimpse of the real Enzo.
"No. I'm not. But I'm an expert on me." I lean into him, our faces inches apart. I'm merely playing his game, and for once it feels good to be the one in control. "And I'm just as empty as you are. That's why I know we can never be. Two voids do not make one whole."
"No," his mouth pulls up slightly, "they make an abyss. What do you say, little tigress? How about we let go? Succumb to a free fall?" His hand is still playing with my hair, his eyes no longer on me.
"No." I shake my head lightly. "Falling is losing. And I don't plan to lose. Never again." For once, I'm going to prove my parents wrong. I'll make the best of these circumstances…somehow.
"Then we're in agreement." He chuckles, his features relaxing, and I realize he had no intention of consummating the marriage.
He doesn't see you as a woman.
A tiny voice inside me just won't shut up. I try to mute it, because it can only mean I'm disappointed he doesn't find me attractive. And that's certainly not the case.
He turns on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"We can be partners."
"Partners?" I echo his words, the notion entirely foreign.
"We may not be able to fill the void in each other. But we can make sure it doesn't get bigger."
I lean into the pillow, staring at the same ceiling he seems to find so interesting.
"OK," I agree.
I'll be fine.
As long as my happiness does not depend on him, I'll never have to worry about my mother's words.
And for the first time, maybe I'll be free.