I blocked thoughts of the family out, though. Scarlett had reminded me that no matter what they thought, this was our wedding day, and it wasn’t a show. The truth in our love would move them, and if not, they were blinded by their own ambitions. Sheorderedme to forget them and take it all in.
Lifting the hem of my dress, I started with my heels.
Matteo had saved my heel that I’d left behind when I ran from him in the underground club. The day he’d gone back and set fire to the place, he saved what he could of my things, and he found the matching heel.
He’d sent the heels over that morning, on a fancy silver pillow, like I was Princess Cinderella or something, with a note:
La Mia Stella,
You ran from me in these shoes. Run back to me now.
Yours for as long as the stars have been burning in the sky, will burn, and even longer,
Teo
The heels would glitter like stars when touched by the fading light filtering in through the small windows of the dim church. And maybe when the golden sun hit me, I’d glitter too, with all the sequins and pearls on the all-lace dress. Not to mention all the candles. I wanted the Tuscan gown to have a much different feel from the one I’d wear in December.
Even though my Tuscan dress would catch the light and sparkle, it was more subdued. The lace was the star of the show on this one. It hugged my body but flared out in the back mermaid-style. I held a bouquet of forget-me-nots and roses. My hair was pulled back into a low bun, and the scalloped-edge train was longer than the gown, trimmed with lace that matched the dress.
The long sleeves came to my wrists, and I held my right hand out, the light touching the star engagement ring Matteo had given me, watching as it sparkled. He’d told me to switch it to that finger until after the vows. My hands were trembling.
It seemed like out of the blue, another hand, much larger than mine, took mine in his, steadying it. His was so hot compared to my cold one.
Brando. He seemed to materialize out of the darkness in his tux.
Scarlett was right behind him, a beautiful vision in the lightest blue satin dress. She’d told me she was my something blue.
My something old was the little burnt metal forget-me-not flowers that my mom had tucked into my bag the day she’d left me. By some miracle, the little metal petals and stem were still intact enough for me to be able to carry with me in my bouquet. It was turned into a pin and secured front and center. My new was a delicate bracelet Matteo had sent over with the shoes. It had small star and diamond charms around it. My borrowed was a pair of earrings Mia had worn to her wedding.
Even though Scarlett was standing close to Brando, I got the feeling she was letting him lead this time. He looked at me with those same intense eyes, but I could see tenderness lurking in their dark depths.
“You okay?” he said, his voice a bit rough.
I was momentarily speechless until I realized I was probably standing there with my mouth open. “Yes,” I whispered. “Just…excited, anxious, and I have to stop myself from running down the aisle.” That last part wasn’t all that articulate, but… Brando Fausti was talking to me.
Whoa.
Brando grinned at me, and when Uncle Tito stood next to me, offering me his arm, Brando said, “Welcome to the family, Stella. You are a daughter of our heart.” He repeated the words in Italian, kissing my hand gently, and then offered Scarlett his arm.
Scarlett took it and then blew me a kiss as they left us in the waiting area of the little stone church.
“Whoa,” I said out loud this time after he’d gone. “It wasn’t a hug, but it felt like one.”
Uncle Tito patted my hand. “You are welcomed and loved.”
Nodding, I held onto him even tighter. I hoped that when we started walking, I wasn’t going to pull him over. Especially after the music started to play and Nonno’s rich voice floated toward us in Italian. A woman’s voice sang with him, faint, but echoing his words in English. “If I Should Fall Behind.”
“Ready,” I breathed.
Uncle Tito nodded seriously. “I did not even have to ask.”
My foot was the first to move, and then Uncle Tito’s, and before long, we were at the closed wooden doors. They opened to a small church packed with people, who were all turning to get a look at me. Some of them gasped, and then they all stood. Shadows stretched along the stone walls and wooden floors. Aslice of waning light filtered in through the small windows and the dim church. Candles were lit to add a bit of ambience and to breathe more romantic light into the space.
My eyes instinctively looked for the man waiting at the altar for me. He was the only reason I wasn’t running. The walk toward him felt intimate, and I knew that, for the rest of my life, what his eyes were whispering would echo in my soul for eternity.
You are mine.
You are mine for the rest of my life.
