37
SOPHIA
The day of my wedding the sun shines bright and the breeze whips through my hair, which has started to grow out in the last few months. It’s near my shoulders now, not the pixie cut it once was, although Luca still insists on calling me pixie.
I guess he gave me that nickname before I ever had the cut, so it makes sense.
I look out over the beach, at the thirty chairs set up for our friends and family. Well. Not all of them. I couldn’t invite Scott. Not having my best friend and best man at the wedding does suck, but he and Derek were coming to visit in a year or two, when things settle down.
There’s still a warrant out for Luca, of course. We live off his many offshore bank accounts and the cash he had stashed in his jet. It’s enough to take care of us for five lifetimes.
Agnes is here, holding onto Rosa so that she can’t start throwing her rose petals too soon. She’s excited to see Mama and Daddy get married.
We’re having the reception in the church, but I insisted that I wanted to get married outside, under the sun. Aruba has the best sunshine. It should be studied.
I keep looking for the one person I wanted to be here above all else, but I knew it was a long shot to get him here. I look down then my father puts a hand on my arm.
I turn to him, gasping. “Papa! I didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Where else would I be on the day my little girl gets married to a mobster?” he asks, but he’s grinning ear to ear.
“You can finally meet him.”
“Meet the man who’s taking away my daughter? I don’t know,” he hedges, but I know he’s joking.
He and Luca talked on the phone already when Luca asked for my hand in marriage. At first, I thought it was outdated, but after thinking on it for a while I think it’s sweet.
“You gonna walk me down the aisle?”
“Of course I am.”
He extends his arm and I place my hand around his bicep as the music starts up.
My father wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand as we approach Luca, who’s dressed in a black suit.
My wedding dress is off-the-shoulder, classic white, with embroidered flowers all over it. The train drags along behind me as I walk and Rosa runs in front of me, throwing rose petals.
I laugh as she skips around, hamming it up.
My Rosie girl.
She heads back to the seats with Agnes and I look up at Luca. He’s already got tears in his green eyes. Once so stoic, he’s opened up to us so much.
I blink so that tears don’t track down my makeup. My stylist, Cherise, will have my head. Luca insisted on going all out for the wedding, sparing no expense.
I smile as the priest drones on, repeating what I need to for my vows.
“I love you,” Luca murmurs, close to my ear, when he takes my hands and presses his mouth against mine.
He’s finally almost better, the zipper scar marring his chest the only indication that he’d nearly died.
They pelt us with birdseed, Agnes keeping Rosa for us. She’s going to keep her for the week in a hotel that’s got all expenses paid.
I’m actually looking forward to it. I haven’t had a single second alone with Luca since we got to Aruba, it feels like. We haven’t been sexually intimate, and I’m starting to become frustrated. I know he is, too, it’s been a while given his injuries and everything going on.
I won’t deny I’m looking forward to making love again.
Luca and I walk into the church hand in hand, sweeping through all the people. Money is being pressed into my hand over and over, until I have to get Agnes to bring my purse to hold it all.
