I nod like I’m being briefed before a mission.
Caterina steps in front of me and smooths the front of my dress with both hands, then pauses.
Her eyes flick up to mine.
“You look…” she starts, then stops like she’s not sure she wants to get sentimental.
“No,” I say as my eyes start burning. I turn away. “Don’t.”
Her voice is thick when she says: “Fine. You look hot.”
I snort and turn back.
“Yes, I do,” she says. “Nico is going to eat his heart out.”
Elena adjusts my veil one last time, gently.
Then she leans in and kisses my cheek.
“Welcome,” she murmurs. Not to the wedding. Not to the day. To the family.
My chest aches.
I swallow it down.
“Oh my God, I have to get out of here before I start bawling and ruin my make-up,” I say, and she laughs.
The door opens, and the hallway is cooler, dimmer.
The chapel is just down the corridor, light spilling out from the open doors at the far end.
I can hear the murmur of people. The shifting of feet. The soft rise of music.
Somewhere out there, Nico is standing at the top of the aisle.
Waiting. For me.
The thought sends a little jolt through me.
My dad appears at the end of the hall like he’s been summoned.
He’s in a suit that fits him well, tie straight, hair neat.
He looks older than he did before all of this.
But he’s standing here.
His eyes meet mine and soften.
For a second, he looks like he might break.
Then he clears his throat, because my father doesn’t allow himself emotion in public.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
He steps closer.
