20. Isabelle
"You're so beautiful. Matteo is such a lucky man."
I turned from the mirror to find Aria watching me, her eyes soft with emotion.
"Hello?" Kim's voice rang out from across the bridal suite. "I'm the bride. Divert that attention to me, please."
Aria laughed. "We just spent over thirty minutes gushing over you."
"And why did you stop?" Kim adjusted her veil in the mirror, a smile playing at her lips. "I was enjoying it."
The suite was warm with laughter and the scent of flowers. Sunlight poured through the windows, catching the crystals on Kim's dress—a stunning piece I'd designed specifically for her, all clean lines and subtle sparkle, elegant without being fussy.
She looked radiant. The kind of radiant that came from the inside, from knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.
"Mommy, you look like a princess!" Zoe burst through the door, Evie close behind her. They'd been getting ready in the adjoining room, their flower girl dresses matching shades of soft pink.
"Zoe’s right. You look so beautiful," Evie agreed solemnly.
Kim knelt down carefully, gathering both girls into her arms despite the dress. "And you two are my absolute favorites. I love you both so much."
"More than Uncle Xavier?" Zoe asked.
"Much more. But don't tell him I said that."
My mother appeared in the doorway, already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"Oh, Kim. You're absolutely stunning." She crossed the room and pulled Kim into a careful hug, mindful of the dress. "Welcome to the family, officially. Though you've been family for a long time already."
"Thank you, Mrs. Dubois. That means everything."
"Helena. Please. We've been over this."
My grandmother followed, her posture perfect as always, her eyes sharp and assessing as they swept over Kim with critical attention.
"The dress is exceptional," she announced. "Isabelle, you've outdone yourself."
"Thank you, Grandma."
She turned to Kim and took her hands. "You're going to make my grandson very happy. I can tell."
"I hope so."
"I know so." She squeezed Kim's fingers. "Now. Is everyone ready? We have a wedding to attend, and I refuse to be late."
A knock came at the door.
"That'll be the coordinator," Aria said, moving to answer it.
But it wasn't the coordinator. It was Xavier.
"I know, I know, bad luck to see the bride," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm not looking. Eyes closed. See?" He squeezed his eyes shut dramatically. He squeezed his eyes shut dramatically, making Zoe giggle. "I just need Isabelle for a second. Secret sibling business."
I exchanged a glance with Kim, who shrugged and waved me toward the door with an indulgent smile.
I stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind me.
Xavier's eyes were open now, and he was holding a bouquet of flowers—white roses and peonies, tied with a silk ribbon. A small card was tucked among the stems.
"These are for Kim," he said, handing them to me carefully. "Can you give them to her? I want her to have them before we start."
I took the bouquet. The card read, in Xavier's familiar handwriting: I hope you accept these now.
Something in my chest softened, remembering their complicated beginning.
"She'll love them," I said.
"I hope so." He ran a hand through his hair—nervous, I realized. My playboy brother, nervous on his wedding day. "Listen, there's something else you should know. Femi declined the invitation."
I stilled. "Oh."
"He's alright. He's just... not ready to see you yet. To see you and Matteo together." Xavier's expression was gentle, understanding. "I thought you should know before you spent the ceremony looking for him."
I nodded slowly. We'd sent the invitation as a gesture of goodwill, hoping we could find our way to friendship eventually. But I understood. Some wounds needed more time.
"You made the right choice, you know." Xavier was watching me carefully. "Femi's a good man. He'll always be my friend. But he wouldn't have known what to do with you."
"What do you mean?"
"The new Isabelle. The businesswoman. The empire builder who refuses to apologize for taking up space." He smiled with obvious pride. "You've changed, Isa. You've grown into someone incredible. And Femi... he loved the girl you used to be. I don't think he ever really saw the woman you've become."
I thought about that. About all the ways I'd changed in the past year. The boutiques, the confidence, the refusal to shrink myself for anyone's comfort.
"Matteo sees her," I said quietly.
"Yeah." Xavier's smile widened. "He absolutely does."
He pulled me into a hug—brief, tight, full of the kind of brotherly affection we'd only recently learned to express.
"Now go give my bride her flowers. I have a wedding to get to."
The beach ceremony was everything Kim had wanted.
Simple. Intimate. The ocean stretching endlessly behind them, the sand warm beneath our bare feet, the sunset painting the sky in shades of coral and gold.
I stood with the other bridesmaids, watching my brother marry the love of his life.
Zoe and Evie stood proudly at the front, their flower baskets empty after an enthusiastic petal-scattering procession that had made everyone smile.
Sebastian stood beside Xavier as best man, his hand on his brother's shoulder in silent support.
And Matteo sat in the second row, watching me.
I felt his gaze like a warm hand on my back, constant and comforting. Every time I glanced his way, he was looking at me—not at the ceremony, not at the ocean, not at the breathtaking sunset. At me.
I smiled. He smiled back, that soft private smile that was mine alone.
And I thought: I want to marry him.
The realization didn't come as a surprise.
It had been growing for months now, ever since that night at Sebastian's wedding reception when I'd finally stopped running from what I felt.
Every morning waking up beside him at the vineyard.
Every dinner with Elena, who had already started calling me figlia mia—my daughter.
Every quiet moment where he looked at me like I was the most important thing in his world.
I wanted all of it. Forever.
Kim and Xavier exchanged vows. Zoe cried happy tears, she insisted.
Evie watched with solemn intensity, as if memorizing every detail for future reference.
My mother went through an entire pack of tissues.
My grandmother smiled—actually smiled—when Xavier kissed his bride with such tenderness it made my chest ache.
And through it all, I kept looking at Matteo.
Soon, I thought. Maybe soon, this will be us.
The reception spilled across the hotel terrace, fairy lights strung overhead, the ocean a dark murmur beyond the railing. Music played. Champagne flowed. Zoe and Evie dominated the dance floor with moves they'd clearly been practicing for weeks.
I found my way to Matteo's side, sliding my hand into his.
"Bella." He lifted my hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "You look stunning."
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true, amore mio."
We watched the celebration unfold around us. Kim and Xavier dancing, their foreheads pressed together, lost in their own world. Sebastian spun Aria across the floor with surprising grace. My mother attempted to teach my grandmother some kind of dance move, both of them laughing like girls.
Family. Chaos. Joy. Everything I'd ever wanted without knowing I wanted it.
"Such a wonderful wedding," Matteo said softly.
I leaned into him, my head finding its place on his shoulder.
"Yes," I agreed. Then, carefully casual: "Who knows. We just might come around again for another one soon."
He went still beside me. Then I felt his smile, even though I couldn't see it.
"We just might," he said, his voice warm with promise and certainty and love. "Sì, Bella. We just might."