29. Virgilio
Chapter Twenty-Nine
VIRGILIO
B eing liked by her is an ocean apart from what I truly want.
The part of her being scared of me is something we will work around. Baby steps. At least now she makes jokes around me and smiles easily. Every once in a while, she pokes her head out of her shell before retreating into it.
I slip my signet ring onto my finger, a customized ring with her initials on it that she or any other person will never know. I’ve worn it on my ring finger for the longest time since I could afford the flint it was carved from.
I adjust my shoulders, swollen with pride at how the outfit fits, then step out of my bedroom with sauntering gaits.
The suit is more like a collared shirt, simple, and has tiny black stones on one side. Underneath it is a holster, of course. I’m not expecting to use it, but you never know when it might come in handy.
I’m over the moon today. I’m wearing an outfit made by Zoe and taking her with me as my date for my mother’s wedding.
I stalk down the hallway and then stop by the edge of the stairs with my heart in my mouth as I wait for her.
I had forgotten what it was like to smile until last night in the limo. She resuscitated that dead part of me, and it was shocking even to me that it could be alive. That there is hope for me.
She is the sledger strong enough to crack through my defense and let the sunlight in.
I was only trying to distract her from her tears. It had felt good being that boy again for her.
I hear the door of her bedroom open, and I hold my breath, my heart hammering in my mouth.
She steps out of the shadow of the hallway and then into the light around the staircase.
My fucking world.
The creator has never designed a finer work of art.
She is it.
She graciously climbs down the stairs in at least six inches of black strappy heels, the sharp red of her toenails pronounced by the dull color of her shoes.
I trace the lines of the slit of her emerald dress, stopping just at the top of her thigh. It’s a lace dress with a cowl sleeve and a wisp around her upper body that pushes up her breasts and punctuates her waistline. She has a simple set of pearl studded earrings and a pearl choker. Her hair has been pulled up on her head, and her makeup is subtle but effective enough.
She stops in front of me, and I give her my arm.
“Ready?”
She nods, “Hopefully.”
“Et…tore,” My mother, in her embellished egg-white body-clipping dress, stutters as her green eyes settle on Zoe beside me. I’m sure she recognizes her.
We are at the wedding venue in one of Carmine’s properties. My mother said she wanted an outdoor wedding, and whoever was responsible for the decoration has done a great job stirring a fairytale-like ambiance out of the garden.
“Mother,” I lean in to kiss her and feel her body tensing, “You look beautiful,” I draw back and point at Zoe.
“I would like to introduce you to Zoe…” My mother brings her hand to her throat and then breathes. “Hi,” she smiles. She is a master at concealing her true emotions. After all, she deceived the entire neighborhood and her click of friends that she was happy with my father.
“And Zoe…” I clear my throat, “This is my mother, Aurora.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Zoe says nervously. I slip my arm around her waist and start to stroke the side of her hip. I feel her body loosen a bit.
“Lovely to meet you too. You look good,” my mother finds something to focus on, and I appreciate that.
“Not as good as the happy bride,” Zoe chimes anxiously. I have observed she gets extremely angsty around crowds.
“Thank you,” my mother lifts her eyes from Zoe, and when they land on me, they turn serious. “Can I borrow your date for a minute?”
“Sure. I mean… Yes.” Zoe closes her eyes and breathes, “Yes, please.”
“I will be with you shortly…” I start to say, but as soon as she slips out of my grip, Cesare dives in to get her in his arms. I’m not sure where he came from but at least she is with family. I glare at him, but he seems uninterested in me.
“Have you lost your mind?” My mother takes my arm, masking the situation with a smile at the person beside me. “What do you think you are doing?” She leads me away to a secluded area, but not too secluded so it doesn’t appear like there is trouble in paradise.
She is the center of attention, so eyes are meant to follow wherever she goes.
“I know what I’m doing,” I, on the other hand, do not have the same grace to mask my gruffness with a smile.
“Do you?”
“Yes…”
“No, you don’t,” she grits. “What were you thinking, Ettore?” she hisses, her voice barely above a whisper. “Bringing Zoe here is dangerous. After the news of her death hit the tabloids, your school became a tapestry of her pictures. Everyone mourned her. Now, after the Met Gala, her story is being eaten up by the media, and Benedetto will be on her back in no time. Your father will see her and what do you think he would do? Come around with flowers, Virgilio?”
“Mother,” my tone is arctic, “I have it under control. Let it go. No one can recognize me. I’ve taken every precaution. Zoe’s presence is a risk, yes, but it’s a calculated one. I will never be seen in public with her again.”
She mumbles something about me being stubborn and how she is sure this won’t end well, but my eyes are already sweeping across the heads of guests to find Zoe still with Cesare, who is now handing her a glass of champagne.
“She can be your mother again starting tomorrow, but let her be just my wife for today,” Carmine appears before us, stretching his hand for my mother to take it.
“Carmine,” I give a courtesy bow, and he nods.
Where my mother is the size of a fox, Carmine is a polar bear. Dull coal hair with a few white strings and pale brown eyes. Always clean-shaven.
I let go of my mother, and he takes his bride in his arms, kissing her tenderly on the forehead.
“Our first dance as husband and wife,” He takes her in his arms and leads her to the platform.
I know my mother. She won’t let this slide.
But she knows me too. I won’t be listening.