Chapter 21 - Sienna #2
She looked away, quickly wiping her tears.
“Each time he returned, though, it was like more pieces of him had been chipped away. I didn’t realize how horrible his life in Russia was until years later.
He tried to hide it from Mila and me, but our father was so cruel and the things they put him through in his training…
” Her finger caught a tear that trailed down her cheek.
“All this pain—for him, for me, Mila, and now you—just so he’d be a good enforcer for the Pakhan. It’s all such a waste.”
I wrapped my arm around her. “It is. Such a useless waste.”
“I’ve loved being able to talk and text him since he became Pakhan, but he’s...” Her lips twisted as she trailed off. “He’s more distant than I thought he would be, that’s all.”
I turned her words over in my mind, feeling their familiarity.
The man who I’d spent those days in Paris with was still stern, controlled, and confusing, but he’d also been playful and gentle and kind.
I didn’t know how to reconcile Declan with how Dimitri had spoken to me, disdain clear in his eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” Sofiya asked softly. “Because if you’re not, I can talk to Dimi. No one should be pressured into a marriage.”
I sucked in a long, slow breath. “He’s been a good brother to you, right?”
She squeezed my hand hard. “Yes. He did as much as he could for Mila and me. He’ll do anything he can to protect his own, and I know he’ll do the same for you and the baby.”
“Then yes, I’m sure,” I said with a tight nod. “I want to give us a chance to be a family.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want you to be happy. Dimi, too. You both deserve the world.”
“I want my baby to have the world.” My throat was tight and my thumb ran up and down my little bump. “My parents were so happy together, and it made our home happy. I want that. What you’re giving Clementine.”
Sofiya blinked rapidly. “You’re going to make me cry.”
I pulled her into a tight hug so she couldn’t see the tear slip through my tightly squeezed eyelids. I breathed through the sharp pain in my chest and pushed down the words I couldn’t say—that I already knew my marriage wasn’t going to be a happy one.
We both let out watery laughs when we finally separated.
“Alright,” she said, patting my hand. “We’ve got to pull ourselves together. Do you know what you’re wearing?”
“No clue.”
“I would be worried, except I’m pretty sure your closet contains the entire third floor of Fifth and Quartz’s women’s department.”
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s only, like, half of the third floor.”
I helped Sofiya into her wheelchair. “Let’s order breakfast and you can show me outfit options,” she said.
I followed her and Noodle back to my room, cringing when I remembered the absolutely disastrous state I’d left the house in.
“Right,” Sofiya said once the sea of clothing piled high on the floor impeded her wheelchair’s ability to proceed. “Don’t stress. I’ll have Gianna come over and we’ll box all of this up and send it to you, okay? All you need to worry about is finding the right wedding dress.”
My list of worries could fill endless notebooks, but I took a fortifying breath and waded deeper into the disaster.
We needed five cars to transport all of us to City Hall in Lower Manhattan.
We made a somewhat ridiculous entourage, but as we wove through the morning traffic, I was grateful to have so much support.
I was sandwiched between Juliet and Sofiya in the back, the skirt of my sparkly pale pink dress brushing my legs.
It wasn’t a traditional wedding dress and certainly nothing like what I thought I’d wear if I ever got married, but the skirt, which hit just above my knees, felt more appropriate for a daytime wedding while the hand-sewn sequins made it feel special.
Much too soon, we pulled up outside City Hall. We spilled out of the cars—everyone except for Clementine, who had stayed home under the protection of Gem and half a dozen guards. Saying goodbye to her had been the worst. What if she forgot me? Would I even be allowed to visit New York?
My panic built with each step up the stairs to the entrance.
I stuffed down my emotions, locking them away in a tiny metal safe as I followed Matteo inside to a smaller lobby.
When he touched my shoulder, I jumped, and he shot me a concerned expression.
I needed to pull my shit together. He’d told me approximately twenty times this morning that I didn’t have to go through with this, and any hesitation on my part would escalate an already tense situation.
“We’re early. I’m going to check which chapel you’re going to be in,” he said.
“Thank you.”
There were other couples in the waiting area excitedly celebrating almost being married, while I felt like I was being marched to my execution.
Juliet wrapped her arms around me. “You hanging in there?”
No, I’m about to lose it, thanks for asking.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Actually, I need to find the bathroom.”
“Oh, I just went,” she said. “There’s a private one right around that corner.”
I nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you.” Dante put his hand on my back and led me down the hall.
The moment I locked the bathroom door behind me, I gripped the sink to keep myself from collapsing. My chest was tight and my stomach lurched with nausea that I couldn’t blame on little Lemon.
How the fuck was I supposed to get through this? I spun around the tiny, dingy space as if a box of Valium was going to materialize. Or Xanax. I wasn’t picky.
Shit. Xanax probably wasn’t good for the baby.
Okay, something else…Wait, Juliet told me her therapist said to run her face under ice cold water when she was panicking.
I turned on the tap, but I was too vain to mess up my hair and makeup.
Did it work if I put my hands under? Worth a try.
I cringed as I stuck my hands underneath the icy water and started to count.
Once I got to seventy-two, I pulled my hands out.
Huh. Now I had freezing cold hands in addition to the whole not-being-able-to-breathe-on-the-verge-of-vomiting thing.
The room spun and I slumped against the wall to stay upright. The gross, disgusting wall in Manhattan City Hall’s public bathroom. I groaned and grabbed some paper towels to dry my armpits.
Pull yourself together. If anyone sees you panicking like this, they’ll lose their minds and stop the wedding and then there will be a shootout and the police will come and we’ll have to escape out the window…
Huh, that was similar to what happened at the wedding of two of my CozyScape characters. Well, not the weapons and violence part. CozyScape was too cozy for that. But there had been much throwing of wedding cake when Ivy’s ex crashed the ceremony to try and win her back.
Maybe that was the key. What if I pretended today was just an expansion pack for my game? If none of this was real, there was no reason to panic. Today, I wasn’t Sienna. I was Mary Margaret, about to head down the aisle to Eric, her soulmate.
I stared at myself in the dingy City Hall bathroom mirror.
Alright, Mary Margaret. Let’s go marry your high school sweetheart and fulfill your dream of opening an ice cream shop, and we won’t even worry about the fact that in a few months you’ll leave Eric for the much hotter man you met online. One thing at a time.
I fluffed my hair, pulled my shoulders back, and threw the bathroom door open only to be met by the concerned faces of everyone I loved most in the world.
Juliet held out her hand to her husband.
“Damn it,” Romeo muttered. He pulled a stack of cash out of his wallet and handed it to her.
I cocked my head, and she met my gaze with a sly smile. “What? I knew you wouldn’t climb out the window. Mostly because I peed in there earlier and knew there wasn’t a window.”
Romeo’s jaw dropped. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “That was very devious of you, stellina.”
“Okay, ignore them,” Sofiya said, shoving Romeo aside. She grabbed both of my hands and pulled me down so we were eye-level. “Are we still doing this?”
I squeezed her hands. “Yes. Still doing this.”
“Alright. Let’s get you married.”