I looked around just before the lights went dim and the show started. I wondered how many of these men were like my husband.
I did not think on it long, not when the music seemed to steal my attention. At the sound of her voice, I grew cold, but inside, I felt warmed. The entire production was nothing like I had ever experienced before.
My eyes were glued to the stage.
My husband’s eyes were on me.
Every once in a while, he would take my hand and place a warm kiss over my wedding rings. Especially when one touching scene made me cry.
Before long, it was time for intermission. The halls were packed with people, but at least there was not a wait in the bathroom. Rosaria stood next to Scarlett, fixing her makeup, but I did not stop to make conversation. I had enjoyed talking to Scarlett once or twice, but Rosaria had never grown on me.
I stood outside of the bathroom for a second, looking for Adriano. He usually stayed close to me when Corrado was not. I tried to stand on my toes, even in heels, looking for him, but I did not see him in the crowd. I did not see Corrado, either.
As I searched the many different faces, my eyes crashed with a man’s who was standing across from me. He was dressed in a suit. It seemed like he was waiting for someone, but he never moved from his spot. He kept staring at me.
My heart started to race, and I gripped the dress in my hands, my knuckles straining.
Where was Corrado? Adriano? Nunzio?
A group of women leaving the bathroom together were walking close, but not close enough that they would notice me if I slipped close to them. I glanced over my shoulder as we walked, weaving around more foot traffic, and the man followed.
I picked up the pace. So did he.
I was walking so fast that it could have been considered a slow jog. He was not far behind. He weaved in and out of people.
“Ah!” I slammed into a chest. Two strong hands gripped my arms, and I almost flung them off until I realized who it was. “Rocco.”
“Alcina,” he said. “What are you doing here?” he asked in Sicilian. I did not miss how his eyes took in my face and my dress. His eyes were a green made from the sea, and his skin as tan as the sand. His hair was as black as my husband’s, and just like my husband, the contrast was almost shocking.
My chest heaved up and down, and his eyes moved to the pulse in my neck, where he could probably see it beating like a drum from the panic. I had nothing to defend myself with.
“I am waiting for my husband,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I heard the news. Congratulations.”
I nodded. “Grazie.”
“Where is he?”
I looked around.
The relief I felt when I saw him made me crumple in Rocco’s hands. Rocco noticed and nodded when he saw him, too.
Corrado’s eyes were frantic, though his face was stoic. He was looking for me. When he took me from Rocco’s hands, pulling me close, I looked around for the man who had been following me. He had disappeared in the crowd, but I could still feel his eyes on me.
Rocco and Corrado made small talk for a minute before Uncle Tito and his wife joined the conversation.
Even though Corrado acted as if nothing had happened, his body had become more rigid after we walked away, heading back to our seats. “Why did you walk away from Adriano?” he said, his tone sharp.
“I could not find him,” I said.
“He was standing next to the bathroom. He said one minute you were there and the next you were gone.”
“Where were you?” I asked.
“Not far from him. I was talking to Nicodemo.”
“Why is he here?”
