the man does fuck like a god.
I’m not fucking him. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
“The dress is perfecto, cara,” my mother praises, her irises lit up as she stares at me twirling the wedding gown in front of her. She’s always been my biggest fan, urging me to do better and be better. She’s lived the Mafia wife life since she was a young woman, and for her to be strongly supportive towards my choices being different, I couldn’t be more thankful. There are so many out there who don’t get the opportunities and encouragement I’ve had. Hell, before the famiglias were being threatened and hunted down, marrying a made man wasn’t a consideration for me.
“Grazie. I’m not sure I should wear white. I’m older than other brides, Mama, not exactly virginal.”
“Nonsense. It’s not bright white. The color is perfect.”
“Do you have this in a light-blush color?” I ask the eager young bridal sales stylist. Her job title is a mouthful, but she seems to fill the role well. Everything I’ve asked for she’s practically jumped to bring it to me. I wouldn’t know where to start if I had to look through everything myself. I’d probably end up giving up and ordering something online. My ma would freak.
“Not on hand, but with enough time, we can set up a custom order. You can pick the shade of blush you want and any other special alterations you’d like added or removed. It could be everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
My mother cuts in, “We don’t have time. Her wedding is next week. We need a dress today.”
The lady’s mouth pops open, her hand moving to cover it in shock, and a laugh escapes me. It all feels surreal. I don’t think it’s truly sunk in that I’m the one getting married. “A-a week and you’re just now picking out a dress? Oh my. I don’t know if our seamstress will be able to alter any of these dresses in time, to be honest. I’m so sorry. We should have something in your size somewhere.”
My mother waves her off. “No worries. We have one on call. As long as the dress is close to my daughter’s size or larger, it won’t be an issue. We must find something Ismerlda is happy with though. She’s a busy woman. I want this day to be special for her, and there will be many influential guests in attendance as well.”
“Yes, of course. We’ve got all day. We’ll find something gorgeous. You’ll shine on your wedding day,” she reassures, but that’s her paycheck talking right now. Color me not persuaded. I won’t be until I leave here with a full garment bag.
I sulk a bit as I stare blankly into the grand mirror. The shop is lovely, and I enjoy spending time with my mother, but I’m just off. I like the blush-color idea, but the lady’s right: I’ve waited too long to find something. I should’ve come the day the agreement was made so it could’ve been more unique. I remember my mother’s gown; it was lavish and she looked thrilled to be there with my father in their pictures. I won’t have the same, and even though I wasn’t wanting to marry soon, the reality depresses me. At least my job is willing to give me a bit of time off or it’d really end up being a hot mess ceremony.
“Are you all right, cara?”
With a sigh, my shoulders bounce with a shrug. “I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing. It feels too fast. I should be excited, but this is only stressful.”
“Well, of course, you are. Otherwise, your father would never be on board with it. Breathe the stress away and take it one step at a time. This doesn’t all fall on your shoulders. We have famiglia to help with most of it. You can allow yourself to be excited. No one will hold that against you. You’re too hard on yourself, even in this.”
“I don’t love Maximillian, and while it’s not an issue for me…I hate him most days, and that is a problem. I agreed to this marriage proposal Thaddaeus Morelli came up with because I thought it would be good for my famiglia, maybe help you and Dad out. I had no idea it wouldn’t be a decent fit for me in return. I wasn’t thinking it through, call me foolish.”
“No, cara. You don’t have to go through with this. There’s still time to call