After endless internal turmoil and anguish, the day on Valentina's invitation finally arrived.
Rain fell cold over New York.
Enzo left earlier than usual. Normally I wouldn't be awake at this hour, but last night I didn't sleep at all. He noticed I was awake. He seemed surprised.
"Did I wake you?"
I didn't deny it. Just faked a drowsy yawn.
"Where are you going so early?"
"Work." He answered while getting dressed. Before leaving, he kissed my forehead, said he had important business to handle, would be back late, told me to have Anna make something good to eat.
His eyes showed nothing when he looked at me.
If he felt even a second of guilt about what he was going to do today, I'd feel better. But I saw nothing on his face. Still, I couldn't help thinking—what if Valentina was lying? If Enzo was just going to work, he wouldn't show any particular reaction, would he?
The front door closing meant Enzo was gone. I stood in thebedroom for a long time. Looking at the empty space beside the bed always brought a sinking unease.
Today was the fifteenth. The day to go to St. Patrick's Cathedral.
I took a deep breath and went downstairs. Anna was washing vegetables in the kitchen. When she heard my footsteps, her hands paused.
"Anna." I greeted her.
"Good morning, Miss Bennett. What would you like to eat?" She asked with her back to me.
"Anna, I need to go to that church."
Anna slowly turned to look at me. She didn't seem surprised I was asking.
"I know you work for Valentina," I said calmly. "Take me there. I need to see it with my own eyes."
Anna didn't deny it. She slowly folded the towel in her hands and placed it on the counter, then walked to the entrance and took down one of my coats from the rack.
"The car's out back. I'll drive you."
With Anna's guidance, we easily avoided the two guards at the front door and got into the car they'd prepared.
The drive took nearly forty minutes. I sat in the back seat without saying a word. Anna said nothing either. Outside the window, New York looked gray and heavy. The rain had stopped, but the sun hadn't come out.
My hand stayed on my belly the whole time. Five months now. The curve was obvious, couldn't hide it even with a loose coat. The baby inside was unusually quiet today. Not kicking. Maybe he knew today wasn't the day to make a fuss.
When the car stopped at the corner near the church, Anna glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Are you sure?"
I didn't answer, but I was sure. One hundred percent sure. I needed a real answer.
I pushed open the door.
A row of black stretch limos sat outside the church. People in formal wear came and went, women in long dresses and furs, men allin dark suits. Both sides of the steps were covered in white flowers—white roses and lilies, thick and dense everywhere. White everywhere.
The church doors stood open. I walked in.
Inside, the flower scent was several times stronger than outside. White lilies and roses mixed together, sickly sweet, making me nauseous. Maybe pregnancy had turned my sense of smell into radar-level sensitivity. Maybe my stomach was using its own way to tell me—you shouldn't be here.
The cathedral interior rose high and magnificent, the vaulted ceiling so far overhead it made me dizzy. Stained glass windows filtered the gloomy daylight outside into warm tones—gold, red, blue light spots falling on the long wooden pews. It looked cozy and dreamlike. This was once my vision of a perfect wedding.
Both sides were filled with people. No one noticed me. I wore a dark coat, stood in the corner of the last row, completely out of place.
