"The universe is not sending you signs," Alessia says, coming over to help me with the buckle. "The universe wants you to marry Enzo. We all want you to marry Enzo. Even the shoe wants you to marry Enzo, it was just playing hard to get."
I laugh and it comes out slightly hysterical because I'm getting married in ten minutes and I'm somehow both completely calm and absolutely losing my mind.
Six months.
Six months since the rescue. Six months since Matteo gave us his blessing. Six months of actually being together without hiding or sneaking around or worrying that someone was going to tear us apart.
Six months of waking up next to Enzo and falling asleep in his arms and learning what it feels like to be loved by someone who would literally burn down the world for you.
And now we're getting married.
"Okay, shoes on. Check." Bianca steps back and looks at me critically. "Hair?"
"Done," Alessia confirms.
"Makeup?"
"Perfect."
"Dress?"
I look down at myself. The dress is ivory silk, simple and elegant, fitted through the bodice and flowing from the waist, and when I move it catches the light in ways that make me feel like something out of a fairy tale.
"The dress is perfect," I say quietly.
"You're perfect," Bianca corrects. "The dress is just doing its job."
There's a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" Matteo's voice.
"Yes!" I call back.
The door opens and Matteo steps inside wearing a tux and an expression that makes my throat tight.
He stops when he sees me.
"Isabella," he says, and his voice does something complicated. "You look?—"
"Don't make me cry," I warn him. "I just got my makeup done."
"I'm not making you cry. I'm just—" He stops and clears his throat. "You look beautiful. Mom would have loved this dress."
And now I'm crying.
"Damn it, Matteo."
Alessia and Bianca immediately descend with tissues and gentle dabs and murmured reassurances about waterproof mascara, and Matteo stands there looking guilty and fond in equal measure.
"Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to?—"
"It's fine." I wipe my eyes carefully. "I'm just emotional. And happy. And terrified. And about fifteen other things all at once."
He crosses to me and takes my hands. "You don't have to be terrified. You love him. He loves you. That's all that matters."
"What if I trip walking down the aisle?"
"Then he'll catch you."
