Liam had run home to change for dinner and I put on a dress Francesca had made me. She really was extremely talented when it came to fashion. It wasn’t the overpriced dress I had on yesterday, but this one felt more special. Probably because she designed it.
I was a nervous ball of energy as I paced through the living room and kitchen, which was probably a total of twelve steps each way. My mother came over and forced me to stand still.
“Stop fretting, Izzy.”
Looking at her, I sighed.
“Why did Papa invite him to family dinner? He’s never invited anyone else. It’s too much pressure.”
My mother slipped a flower in my hair and sighed.
“He likes the boy. It’s as simple as that.”
“He liked Marco and never invited him over.”
My father appeared in the room and shook his head.
“Bah, Marco. He was never good enough for you. We were all blinded by his Italian charm. Plus, he didn’t look at you the same way Liam looks at you.”
I remembered how Jenny had said the same thing. He couldn’t have that great of a look, being that there was zero romantic interest between us at the moment.
“How does he look at me?”
It was, surprisingly, my mother who answered.
“He looks at you, Isabella, with this expression of disbelief that he gets to be part of your life. Like he will never feel worthy of you.”
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, and my father nodded.
“It is how I look at your mother.”
The doorbell rang. I took another deep breath to settle my nerves. My father let Liam in; I was happy to see this time he had brought flowers for my mother as well as for me. She blushed and hurried to put the bouquets in water. Liam looked at me, his eyes wide.
“You look stunning, as always, Bella.”
I had known Marco since I was four and he never once called me stunning. Another twinge of hope hit me. We did still have two months to find a spark. The universe would show me what I needed to do soon enough. Until then, I would enjoy any time I had with Liam.
“You are rather dashing yourself.”
His smile brightened, and the rest of my family started to appear.
Clamping Liam’s shoulder, my father declared, “We better head to the restaurant. The rest of the family is eager to meet you.”
Liam didn’t look nervous at all. I wondered how he could have such confidence when he had no idea what he was about to face. Knowing that he rarely even spoke to his family should have made the thought of tonight even harder for him.
As we were rushed from the apartment, Liam leaned in and whispered, “What is the level of affection we are allowed this evening? Can I hold your hand while we are walking?”
To respond, I just slipped my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. Papa wouldn’t mind handholding. He would think it was odd if Liam and I weren’t a little affectionate. As long as we were respectful.
Forcing him to fall back a bit, I whispered, “I think we can be affectionate cuddle-wise, just probably keep kissing off limits.”
Liam nodded and we hurried to catch up with the rest of my family. Right before we entered the restaurant, I took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.
“I’m so sorry for this.”
Before he could question me, Papa opened the door and the sound of twenty conversations stopped at the sight of him. Family dinner, for as long as I could remember, included every blood relative that lived in the neighborhood. All my aunts and uncles. All twenty-six of my cousins. They were all there, and all their eyes were on Liam. I looked at my father in the hope that he would say something, but it was actually one of my youngest cousins that broke the silence.
Little Anthony, who had just hit the age of six, ran forward and tugged on Liam’s sweater.
