I need her.
We belong together for all of eternity. Today is our first step in a new life.
Elena pads down the stairs, auburn hair disheveled, still in her nightgown as if she’s just woken up. As soon as she sees me,she comes to an abrupt halt. “I-I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.”
I keep my gaze glued to her face, resisting the deepest temptation to let it fall lower. She’s back lit, and I don’t think she realizes that every curve of her body shows right through that thin fabric. She looks like a fucking goddess. One I’d gladly consider worshiping for a night.
“Excuse me.” She slips past me into the living room.
“Is that Maximo?” Aunt Antonia calls out. “Let’s go sit in the sun.”
I follow Elena, finding her helping Antonia to her feet. The woman has a nurse, yet she often seems to dismiss her in favor of having Elena’s assistance.
The fragile, ancient woman shakes so much I’m afraid she’s going to collapse any moment. Elena reaches for the cane as Antonia uses her for temporary support. Her fingers brush against it just enough that the walking stick falls over.
I spur into action, grabbing the cane from the floor, and hand it to Elena. Our fingers touch and a spark zaps us both. Startled, we pull away.
I watch Elena situate Antonia with her walking stick and help her through the house to the courtyard out back. She’s so attentive and aware. Yet she doesn’t coddle Antonia, because everyone knows our aunt’s still a free, independent spirit even in her aging body.
Once we get outside, the warm Italian sun beaming down on us, Elena holds Antonia’s hand as she sinks into a chair.
It’s such a simple thing, helping move Aunt Antonia from one seat to another. But the care with which Elena does it warms my heart. When my mama’s an old woman, I want someone to show her this much kindness. To want to help her, not just feel obligated to do so.
I sit across from the old auntie, but my gaze lingers on Elena, seeing her not so much as a frightened girl, but as a woman with a big heart. A giving soul. She’ll make some man very happy one day.
My heart hammers against my ribcage as the music begins to play and a hush falls over those gathered. Hundreds of powerful and influential people sit in the audience, but as soon as Elena walks through those doors, every one of them fades away. I only have eyes for her.
My breath catches. My pulse stammers.
She’s so fucking beautiful, gazing at her tears at my soul.
Then the reality of what we’re doing in church today crashes in like a wrecking ball. She’s about to becomemine. And I’ll be hers.Forever.
I’ve prayed to God for this moment, for years, and now it’s finally happening.
Elena Pontrelli will be mine to have and to hold, until death do us part. I clear my throat to keep my emotions in check.
Our gazes find one another’s, like magnets. Today she’s not wearing her signature pink-framed glasses. Somehow she manages to look both more mature and younger without them. Vulnerable. Innocent. Does she wear them as more than just a fashion statement, but as a shield against the world? Today there’s no hiding from me,cara mia.
As she slowly walks toward me, on her own without escort, my chest tightens with anticipation. I can barely breathe as she approaches. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
Then there’s a flicker in her soft grey eyes. Uncertainty.
Her perfectly schooled expression cracks with the slightest line between her brows.
She halts halfway down the aisle.
A gasp sweeps through the crowd.
My pulse rate doubles as I search her features for clues to her thoughts, her intentions. I find my answer in her gorgeous, haunted eyes.
No, no, no.
That uncertainty morphs into a deeper doubt before it becomes panic. I’m right there with her, anxiety pumps through my veins as I witness the moment my world falls to pieces. Crumbling right before my eyes.
“No!” I say right as she turns and sprints toward the exit. “Elena!”
This isn’t fucking happening.
