Pinching the bridge of my nose, I breathe in slow, fighting the dull ache building behind my eyes. The tea on the table’s gone cold while I’ve been sitting in the kitchen for over an hour staring at nothing, trying to convince myself that none of this is real.
But it is. The dress fitting happened. The way those women saidMrs. Marinovalike it was already written into law. The diamond earrings that sit in my nightstand, mocking me with how beautiful they are. How permanent it all feels.
And there’s nothing I can do. That’s the most suffocating feeling: being helpless. My parents are the most important people in my life. No matter how many times I’ve thought about telling Aleksei I’ve changed my mind, I can’t do it. I can’t hurt them.
The vibration of my phone on the table startles me, and when Mom’s name flashes on the screen, my stomach flips. I hesitate, thumb hovering over the answer button.
Maybe I should let it ring. Pretend I’m asleep. Busy. Dead.
But then guilt gnaws at me until I sigh and answer.
“Hey, Ma.”
“There you are.” Her tone’s soft, but already cracking at the edges. “I’ve been calling and calling. You didn’t answer. We were worried. How are you holding up?”
A sharp and bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Let’s see. I’m about to marry the man I tried to put in prison, so I’m doing real great here, Ma. Thanks for asking.”
“Oh, tesoro…” She exhales, the sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a sob. “I’m sorry this is happening. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
I shouldn’t have said all that. It’s not their fault. They didn’t ask for any of it.
“It’s okay, Ma. It’ll be fine.” I lean forward, elbows braced on the table. “Don’t worry about me.” The lie tastes sour, but I keep going anyway. “He’s actually…not so bad.”
Are those words seriously coming out of my mouth? These are scary times.
There’s a beat of silence on the other end. Then a snort, and suddenly, my dad’s voice joins the line.
“Not so bad? He’s the devil,” he mutters. “Tu stai sposando il diavolo.”You’re marrying the devil.
A short laugh breaks out of me, tired but real.
Tell me something I don’t know.
“The wedding’s in a week,” I say, almost to myself. Maybe trying to make it seem real, even though it’s the last thing I want.
Dad clears his throat, and I can picture him pacing in the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always does when he’s trying not to yell.
“This is not how I imagined walking you down the aisle, stellina. You were supposed to be smiling. In love. Not…” He trails off, like saying it aloud might break him. “Not this.”
“It is what it is, Papa.”
“You don’t have to do it,” he says suddenly. “If you say the word, I’ll find a way. We’ll lose the vineyard, the house, everything. It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to do this for us.”
But I do. Aleksei holds their future over my head, and I’m not willing to let him ruin their lives when I can stop it.
“Papa,” I whisper, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “Iwantto help. You and Ma have done everything for me my entire life. It’s my turn.”
“It shouldn’t be this way. You shouldn’t have to sell your happiness to save ours.”
“Sometimes life doesn’t give you a choice.” I try to smile, even though they can’t see it. “Sometimes you just…take what’s left.”
There’s a pause, then Mom sighs. “You always were the strong one. We are very proud of you.”
I huff out something between a laugh and a scoff. “Yeah. Strong. That’s one word for it.”
“We’ll make this right,” she says. “Somehow. I don’t know how yet, but we will.”
I don’t answer. Becausemaking it rightfeels like something out of a fairy tale. Something that doesn’t belong in the world I’m about to marry into.
