"What?" I breathed. "You want to what?”
The glint in his eye shifted to uncertainty at my stumped response. But even still, he straightened his shoulders and kept his determined focus on me.
"Our marriage did not start off happy, admittedly, through my own selfish actions." His face clouded with remorse.
"I would love to have the chance to repeat a day that should've been happy for you. You deserve a husband who is proud to stand before family and God and to promise you eternal love, devotion, and faithfulness. I want to give that to you." He took a shaky breath in. "So will you? Will you marry me again so we can renew our vows?"
My lips quivered, and I sniffed back tears, even though one or two escaped. "Yes!" I sobbed, half laughing and half crying. "Yes, I'll marry you again."
He cupped my face before stealing my breath with a kiss scandalous enough to make me blush in front of our family. My father cleared his throat, unused to such overt displays of affection.
I pulled back with a gasp as a million and one worries entered my head. "Wait, when—"
"Tomorrow morning, eleven a.m."
My hands flew to my cheeks. "Oh, my goodness, what shall I wear?"
"Giada's stylist should be here soon with dresses from her private collection."
"My hair and—"
"We have a hair and a make-up artist booked." He glanced at me in amusement, his hand stroking my hair away from my face. "And before you ask, I have sorted flowers, a photographer, and a cake and meal here in the villa."
My eyes softened, lit up with love and happiness. I rose onto my toes and stamped my lips on his, no longer caring if we were giving everyone a show.
After a few more lingering pecks and cuddles with my husband, I was swiftly pulled away to Giada and Gino's wing, where her stylist was waiting with a rack of dresses in various shades of white.
"Gino is staying in the garden suite," Giada revealed as she efficiently went through the dresses and selected a few she thought I'd like to try first. "So he won't bother us here."
I hid a wince behind a grateful smile as Giada held a simple cream dress against my body. The garden suite was a small detached cottage, usually reserved for overflow guests. Gino was firmly and literally in the dog house.
In the end, with the help of Giada and Katherine, I picked an elegant yet minimalist sheath dress with a square neckline. By the time we finished up our plans—with a heavy side of gossip and girly chatter—we only had time left for dinner and bed.
Despite Giada's protests, I fell asleep in my husband's arms and woke up still wrapped in them. After making love to me slowly and so passionately I felt tears prick my eyes, we reluctantly parted for our eleven a.m. vow renewal.
And so, in Alessio's childhood backyard beneath a wedding arch wrapped in peonies and eucalyptus, we reaffirmed our love and commitment to each other. In all the excitement of his surprise, I'd forgotten to write my vows—but it didn’t matter. I spoke from the heart, my voice sure and confident, with onlya waver in my tone. It was a testament to the elation of our renewed marriage.
"I love you through our good times, and I will love you harder through our bad ones."
By the time Alessio spoke his vows, there wasn't a dry eye amongst our family—including my husband. Wetness clung unashamedly to his cheeks as he promised me the world on a platter.
"I give you my heart, my soul, my respect, my care, and my fidelity. There is no one for me but you.Ti amo, vita mia.”
"Oh, it's all so dreadfully romantic." My mother sniffed as she congratulated us after. She dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. "See, dear, didn't I tell you that it's best to sort out these marital tiffs on your own?"
I smiled in amusement as I cast my mind back to that fretful time in our early marriage. The person I was—that desperate young wife who had all but given up on a love marriage—was a far cry from the young woman I was today, happy and bolstered by the love my husband had for me.
And that wasn't the only change in our lives. I watched on with pride as my husband greeted Katherine with a kiss, his smile wide as they conversed with ease. Cesare approached his son, clasping him on the shoulder before pulling him in and placing two kisses on each cheek, the pride beaming from his face as he held Alessio's between his hands. They laughed together before Alessio wrapped an arm around his father's shoulders, kissing his head in affection.
A few weeks after Alessio and I declared our love for each other, I risked popping our happy bubble by broaching the subject of a reconciliation with Cesare. I had not forgotten his concern for his son when he thought I was playing fast and loose with his heart. I stressed to my husband how much he cared forhim, and how I was utterly certain that Katherine adored Cesare as much as I loved Alessio.
"I know," my husband confessed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "My father has spent a great deal of time with me, making sure the transition was smooth. Katherine visits often, always with lunch or tea, and she makes sure he's eaten and taking his blood pressure medication."
A soft smile touched my lips at hearing this little titbit. I bet it cost Alessio a lot of swallowed pride to admit that he had been wrong. "They love each other."
"Hmm," he dryly agreed. "It appears so. Although if you ever showed up at the office with rabbit food for lunch, I would… Well, I would eat it," he gruffly conceded. "But I would stop for a burger on the way home."
"You've never eaten fast food in your life," I admonished.
