Epilogue Isabella
NINE MONTHS LATER…
My wedding gown had a pretty, boat neckline and gossamer sleeves; from the front, it looked like something vintage made new again. It was deceptive, though, because it was entirely backless.
“Tell me again how long this took?” Amalia asked, reaching out a hand to smooth down my bare back. She was touching the phoenix blooming from the ashes that had been tattooed across the expanse of my back and wrapped around my side to cover the worst of my scars.
“Twenty hours all together,” I said. “I wanted to do it in two sessions, but we ended up needing four.” Lorenzo came to each session, and when he couldn’t handle my pained faces, he would make Jonathan stop.
“It’s beautiful,” Amalia mused, and I felt her finger smooth down my back again.
It made me laugh. “Thank you.”
She met my eyes through the mirror. “Which was worse: the tattoo or childbirth?”
I snorted. That was an easy one. “Childbirth.” Truthfully, the tattoo hurt a lot, but the pain was easier for me to push away. The more and more I could see the tattoo, the easier it became.
Amalia went a little gray, and I turned.
She was beautiful in her bridesmaid’s dress; it fit her perfectly and showed off the cute little baby bump that was just starting to round out.
The pregnancy had been a surprise to us all, but no one more than Amalia herself.
The whole thing had her on edge for months.
“Nothing is worse than being shot,” I told her.
She snorted. “That’s not as comforting as you might think it is,” she said, and then shook herself. “Today’s not about me, anyway.” She checked the delicate watch strapped to her wrist. “It’s time to get set.”
Amalia handed me the simple bouquet of white and soft pink roses that matched the corsage on her wrist and the boutonnieres I knew would be pinned to the men’s tuxes. Together, we left the bridal suite and met with the wedding planner.
Georgina Hastings had come highly recommended, and she had done everything to ensure that my vision for the wedding came to life. I probably irritated her with how simple I wanted to keep things, but she never pushed me to make things bigger.
The wedding planner smiled. “Ready to get going?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Amalia and I followed Georgina to the foyer that led into the ballroom.
Lorenzo only had one request: the ceremony couldn’t take place in a church.
Not just a Catholic church, but any church.
It didn’t bother me either way, so we picked a lovely restaurant in the middle of Manhattan that could handle both the ceremony and the dinner that would follow.
Neither Lorenzo nor I wanted some big party afterward. Not when Aurelio needed to be put down by seven o’clock if we hoped to get five straight hours of sleep.
Georgina lined us up and signaled for the music to start. Amalia started down the aisle first. I counted to ten in my head and then stepped through the doorway. All eyes were on me, but I only had my eyes on the man at the end of the aisle.
Although we had been married for the last year, seeing Lorenzo in his suit, smiling in the way that was only for me, made my heart pound.
I had been told by Lorenzo’s aunts from New Jersey, who had come in for the wedding, that the honeymoon period would pass.
That I would look at him one day and not feel like I was going to fly apart if he didn’t touch me.
That, eventually, looking at him would be the most mundane thing in the world to me.
I had a feeling that they were wrong. I had seen Lorenzo at his very worst, and I had seen him at his best. The day Aurelio was born, I got to watch my husband as he became a father, and for a man who didn’t have much of an interest before, that all changed the moment our son was placed in his arms. Sure, it had also made him twice as insufferable as before about safety, but I couldn’t fault him for it, given all what we’d gone through.
The walk down the aisle seemed to take hours, but then I was finally in front of him. Lorenzo reached out, and I took his hand, grateful to have the feeling of his palm against my own.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I shifted a bit so that he could see the spill of my tattoo down my back, smirking when he swallowed hard. “Later,” I mouthed to him. If I thought Lorenzo was obsessed with my scars before, the tattoo made him absolutely feral.
Damian took his place in front of us. Because we didn’t need another Justice of the Peace, we asked Lorenzo’s vicecapo to officiate things for us.
“Can everyone stand?” he asked, voice carrying into the crowd that was largely Lorenzo’s extended family.
“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of Lorenzo and Isabella. ”
The ceremony was brief, just like our first wedding, but it was incredibly sweet all the same. When Damian told Lorenzo that he could “kiss his wife,” Lorenzo swept me off my feet, and I giggled before he slanted his mouth over mine. His tongue brushed my bottom lip, and I sighed, opening for him.
“Okay, okay,” I heard Elio say. “Save that for later. Your son is right here, Jesus.”
Lorenzo swung me back around, and I looked at Aurelio, who was completely comfortable on Elio’s shoulder. “He doesn’t look at all bothered,” I muttered, even as I reached to take the baby from him. “You don’t mind Mommy and Daddy at all do, huh?”
Aurelio gave me a gummy smile, babbling and smacking his lips together.
Lorenzo led the baby and I back up the aisle.
When my eyes landed on two of the guests in the very back row, my body went rigid.
Georgina was making an announcement about moving to the main dining room for dinner, but her words sounded far away.
I was too busy staring at Gemma and Cristian.
I looked at Lorenzo, who looked a little grimmer but wasn’t flying into a rage either. “What’s going on?”
Gemma got to her feet. “So, this is my nephew,” she said, smiling. She reached out to take the baby’s hand but didn’t outright take him from me. “He’s beautiful.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lorenzo shaking Cristian’s hand. “Lorenzo?”
Gemma beamed at me. “I’m your present.”
A mix of a laugh and a sob bubbled from my throat. “Really?”
Lorenzo nodded. “For today.” The look he gave Gemma wasn’t openly hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. “Everything else, we’ll figure out later.”
I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”
He hummed. “I love you too.” His eyes flicked to his brother. “Come eat with us.”
I handed Aurelio to Gemma, who cooed with happiness. We met Elio and Amalia at the head table in the restaurant. My heart was so full that it could burst, having all of the people I loved best in one place again.
We sat, and Lorenzo brought my hand up to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “Are you happy, dolcezza?”
My face didn’t feel big enough to contain my smile. “I am.”