The Big Day
Valeria
No veil. No wedding dress. No unnecessary spectacle. Just an ivory dress softly tracing the curve of my stomach.
Dante kneels in front of me and places both hands over my belly with an almost overwhelming reverence.
I smile despite the emotion already tightening my throat.
Suddenly, I feel something beneath his hand.
A movement. Tiny.
Neither of us moves anymore. Dante’s eyes snap up to mine.
“The baby moved.”
The raw emotion in his voice steals my breath away.
*
Of course we arrive at city hall in the Lamborghini. Flamboyant. Almost indecent against the gray morning still damp from rain. The engine purrs with that restrained power that reminds me of Dante himself: controlled, but never far from violence.
“We’re going to have to change cars soon,” I tease.
He turns his head slightly toward me, perfectly serious.
“That’s already planned.”
“Excuse me?”
And then he calmly starts explaining the specifications of the next model: reinforced chassis, bulletproof windows, built-in security system, encrypted GPS tracking.
I stare at him.
“Dante… that’s an armored car.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
“As long as you and the baby are safe, I’ll drive a tank if I have to.”
He’s completely serious. And deep down, I know he would.
The car comes to a stop in front of city hall.
Just as I’m about to step out, he leans toward the back seat and grabs a bouquet before handing it to me.
Peonies. Beautiful ones. The same flowers from our first wedding.
My heart tightens softly.
Those are the details that move me most. Those quiet gestures that say everything he doesn’t always express out loud.
How well he knows me. How, despite everything, he never truly let me go.
Our loved ones are already waiting for us on the steps.
We greet them warmly before heading inside together.
The absence of my parents sends a brief ache through my chest, but I don’t dwell on it. They wouldn’t have wanted me to be sad today.
The registrar, a woman in her sixties with kind eyes, welcomes us warmly and begins the ceremony in a calm, steady voice.
This is the second time I’m getting married.
And yet I’m even more emotional than the first time. Because we came back from so far away.
The trials happened. The sentences were handed down.
Bianca and Peltier were found guilty. Wald will stand trial soon, but his fate is already obvious.
Their lies, their violence, their control over our lives… all of it finally belongs to the past.
For the first time in years, their shadow no longer hangs over us.
I can breathe freely again.
Dante takes my hands in his.
His gaze finds mine.
“Loving you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Losing you… was the worst nightmare of my life.”
His voice falters only slightly before finding its strength again.
“I’m not going to tell you that I love you.
You already know that. I just want to promise you this: I will cherish every day beside you as if it were the last. I will never take you for granted.
I will be the pillar you can always lean on.
And the place where you’ll always find peace, understanding, and comfort.
I promise to make you my priority. Every single day. ”
His words shake me more deeply than I thought possible. Because they carry the weight of everything we survived.
I squeeze his hands in return.
“I promise to love you and protect you every day. To listen to you. To stay, even when I feel overwhelmed, powerless, or angry. I promise to speak before silence turns into resentment. To always find my way back to you.”
Emotion swells inside me.
“Because losing you is not an option.”
Emotion overwhelms me.
When the officiant asks us to exchange rings, Dante slides mine onto my finger with almost solemn slowness.
I do the same.
His wedding band returns to its place on his left hand—where it had already been for weeks, where it always should have stayed.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Someone starts clapping.
Andrea, obviously.
Everyone bursts out laughing and immediately joins in.
Dante leans down and kisses me.
A long kiss. Tender. Deep. As though he’s sealing far more than a marriage. As though he’s finally closing an old wound.
Outside, rain pours down in sheets.
And yet we’re all laughing together on the city hall steps—soaked, disheveled, beautifully chaotic.
This day looks nothing like a fairy-tale wedding.
And yet…
I have never felt more alive.