Chapter 15
Lucia
My leg is bouncing as I sit on the edge of the mattress, with my hands clasped tightly in my lap. I don’t know if it’s nerves or the kind of giddy excitement that makes you feel like you might float right out of your own skin.
To Romeo, this wedding might be a formality, a temporary arrangement, but to me, it’s everything. A dream I never thought I’d get to live. He may not love me or even want to be tied to me for the rest of his life, but I’ve already made up my mind. I’m keeping him.
I’m going to make this work by showing him we’re worth fighting for. That together, we’re stronger. He needs to see that I won’t let him down like others have in the past. That I’ll stand by him through every dark day and every storm.
I’ll love that man with everything I have.
I’ll be his calm in the chaos, his soft place to land.
His home, if he’ll let me.
I don’t care that my special day isn’t anything lavish like Arabella and Dante’s wedding. The only thing that matters to me in this moment is the man I’ll be standing beside when I take my vows.
The only downside I can see about today is that my sister isn’t here to share it with me.
I miss her so much, and my baby niece. She’s growing every day, and I hate that I’m missing it.
Her cheeks are getting squishier, and although I’ve never wanted to be a mother myself, I love that little girl with every fibre of my being.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when there is a light rap on my door. “Luc, are you there?” I hear Romeo ask from the other side.
I leap to my feet and rush in that direction. “Yes,” I say, placing my flattened palms against the wood.
“Are you decent? Can I come in?”
I glance down at the beautiful dress he bought me to wear today.
It fits my body like a glove. I’ve spent the last hour curling my hair and carefully putting on my makeup.
It’s not something I often wear, but thanks to a YouTube step-by-step tutorial on smoky eyes, I’m pretty pleased with the end result.
“I’m decent,” I reply. “But you can’t come in.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s bad luck to see the bride before she walks down the aisle.”
And we need all the luck we can get.
I hear him chuckle before saying, “Fair enough. I’m going to place something by the door. You can come out and get it once I leave.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Just something I thought you’d like.”
“Oh. Well, thank you, I think.”
“You’re welcome … I think,” he retorts. “I’m going to walk away now, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Father Flannery is here, so come out when you’re ready. We’ll be waiting in the main room.”
“Alright.”
I wait a few moments before I crack open the door and peek my head into the hallway. He’s gone. I glance down and see the largish brown box sitting on the floor.
I release a little squeak of excitement as I reach down to retrieve it before locking myself back inside my room.
It’s not heavy, despite its size, but I’m not game enough to shake it because I have no idea if the contents are fragile.
Gently placing the box down on the bed, I quickly lift back the top flaps. I gasp when I see what’s inside.
I remove the bouquet, a soft, fragrant mix of pink rosebuds in shades ranging from pale blush to vibrant fuchsia, that are tied together with a white satin ribbon.
It’s the first time anyone has ever given me flowers, and it’s the most beautiful bouquet I’ve ever seen.
A huge smile curves my lips as I dip my face and inhale the sweet scent of the buds.
I lay them gently down on top of my bed and move towards my bedside table to grab my phone. I may not be able to share this day with anyone other than Romeo and Father Flannery, but I can take pictures and hopefully share them with Arabella one day.
As soon as I snap a few shots, I pull up my message thread and send Romeo a quick text.
Me: They are beautiful. Thank you.
Romeo: I asked them to include something for your hair, since you don’t have a veil. You might find it at the bottom of the box.
I peer back inside the box and find a matching rose-adorned hairpin sitting in a nest of white tissue paper. It’s delicate and minimal, featuring just a few rosebuds mixed with baby’s breath, which creates a subtle elegance.
Taking it out, I rush over to the mirror. I left my long, dark hair down and added some soft curls to the ends. I sweep back one side and slide the hairpin into place.
I slip into my shoes, carefully pick up my bouquet, grab my phone, and move to stand in front of the full-length mirror again.
I look so different, so grown up, and for some reason, tears burn the back of my eyes as I lift my phone and take a few more pictures of my smiling reflection.
Me: I’m ready. I’m coming out now.
Romeo: Okay.
Me: Romeo
Romeo: Yeah
Me: I can’t wait to marry you and become Mrs Romeo De Luca.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But there’s only silence. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, or perhaps he doesn’t know how to say it.
This man eludes confidence and power, but I get the feeling deep down that he doesn’t think very highly of himself, and that only makes me want to love him even more.
I give myself a moment before I finally exit my bedroom and make my way down the hallway towards the main room of the house. When I reach the end, I take a few shaky breaths and fill my lungs.
This is it, the first day of the rest of our lives.
Romeo—and who I can only presume is Father Flannery—stand on the far side of the room. My future husband has his back to me, but when the aging priest glances up and notices me standing there, he nudges Romeo gently.
Romeo turns, and the second his eyes land on me, sweeping from head to toe, goose bumps prick my skin.
For a heartbeat, he stares. It’s as if he’s frozen and forgotten how to breathe.
But then something in his expression softens.
His lips part as if to speak, but no sound comes.
All I get is that look, raw and unfiltered, like I’ve knocked the wind out of him.
His gaze travels slowly, almost reverently, from my sparkly heels to the hem of the dress, lingering at the curve of my waist, then the neckline, and finally rising to meet my eyes.
When our gazes lock, he smiles. Not the careful, practised smile he wears when the world is watching, but the real one.
The one that takes my breath away.
The one that feels like it’s only meant for me.
In that quiet, suspended moment between us, he makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.