"Mother—"
"But I was wrong." She cuts me off. Looks at Antonella with something close to reverence. "I can see it. The way you look at each other."
Antonella's cheeks flush pink.
"Mrs. Sartori?—"
"Aria. Please. You're family now."
"Aria." Antonella's voice is soft. "Bruno and I are still getting to know each other. It's only been a week."
"A week is enough." My mother's voice catches. "I knew with Bruno's father in three days. Sometimes you just know."
I grip the armrests of my wheelchair.
This is too much.
"I hope you're already in love," Aria says. Her eyes are wet now. Glistening. "And if you're not yet, I hope you will be. Soon. My son deserves happiness. After everything he's been through. After everything this family has suffered."
A tear slides down her cheek.
She wipes it away quickly. But more follow.
"I'm sorry." She laughs. Embarrassed. "I promised myself I wouldn't do this. But seeing you together. Seeing Bruno with someone who looks at him the way you do..."
I can't breathe.
I need to leave. Now. Before I say something. Before I do something.
Antonella's hand lands on my shoulder.
Light. Warm. Grounding.
"Aria," she says gently. "Bruno and I didn't really sleep last night. Would you mind if we rested for a bit before dinner? I want to be fresh when I meet your friends tomorrow."
My mother's expression shifts.
Her tears stop.
A knowing smile spreads across her face.
"Of course." She practically purrs the words. "Of course you need rest. Newlyweds." She winks at Antonella. "I remember those days. Go. Both of you. I'll have Giulia show me to my room."
"Mother, that's not?—"
"Don't explain." Aria waves her hand. "I was young once too. Go be with your wife."
Antonella's cheeks are bright red now.
She doesn't correct the misunderstanding.
Neither do I.
"We'll see you at dinner," Antonella says.
I go away. Away from my mother. Away from the tears and the hope and the weight of expectations I don't know how to carry.
We don't speak until we're around the corner.
