Angelina comes to my aid. “I’m her matron of honor, Mr. Rossi, and I will make sure you do not break those traditions if it kills me!”
“Fine,” Tavi says in a tight voice through the door. “I’ll leave, under one condition.”
“Yes?” I say.
“You don’t ever call me Mr. Rossi again, Angelina!”
She grins at me and winks. She isn’t his, so she gets a little bit more freedom than I do. I wink back.
“Elise?”
“Yes?” I walk to the door and stand on the other side of it, my head pressed against the wall. I like the sound of his voice.
“Be careful tonight, baby. I’ll be checking on you. And if anything threatens or scares you at all, fuck traditions, I’m coming. You get me?”
From the corner of my eye, I see Angelina give me a smug smile.
“Yes,” I say softly. “I get you.” Not just in this, but I like to think in more ways than one. At least I’ve begun to understand this man. Whereas others might feel they know their partner when they’re about to walk down the aisle, I feel like it’s something he and I have just begun.
So we do things a little backwards here.
“I hear you’re going to the store?” Tavi asks. “Before dinner?”
“Mhm. Are you just making small talk at this point?”
He sighs. “Maybe.” Another pause. “I miss you.”
I reach my hand to the door and place it palm down. “Put your hand on the door. My hand’s palm-down on the other side.”
“Done.”
I close my eyes and imagine I can feel his hand through the door. Tomorrow, when we see each other, we’ll be joined together. It feels symbolic.
“Be good.” His parting words.
Angelina’s making gagging motions when I turn to see her. I roll my eyes and grin.
Tomorrow, I won’t marry the man I love.
I’ll marry the man I will learn how to love.
It’s a distinction, but one that fills me with hope.
I love you, I whisper to myself, as I get ready to go into town. Fake it ’til you make it, right?
I love you, I think as I do my makeup and step into the killer heels Rosa got me. I love you, I think, as I take the limo into town and laugh with the girls while we share flutes of sparkling champagne. I don’t love him yet. I need time. But there’s a little spark of something there, a little bud that’s been planted deep in the earth, and with enough time and attention, water and sun… it could grow into something more.
CHAPTER 11
Tavi
Goddamn tradition.
Can’t see her. Can’t touch her. Gotta keep my hands off her.
I don’t put as much stock into these damn traditions as my family does, but I go along with it for the hell of it.
Italians.
No one says I can’t fucking call her, though. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Ohhh. Hello. Tavi, are you supposed to be calling me?”
“There is literally nothing in any of the rule books about talking before the wedding.”
“It feels wrong, though.”
My heart jumps. I keep my voice calm. “What does?”
“Talking to you before the wedding.”
I release an audible sigh. “Oh, right.”
“Tavi, what did you think I meant?”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me, and lean back in the plush leather seat of the chair in my private room. “I thought you meant… well, all of it.”
“No,” she says softly. “No, not at all. Honestly… well, if there’s anything that feels right, it’s… it’s us.” I don’t miss the way her voice cracks at the end.
I agree.
“Good. You ready, babe?”
I put the call on speaker. She sighs and doesn’t answer at first. I stand in front of the mirror and adjust my tie.
“Elise.”
“Yes?” she says, and her voice is a little wobbly.
“Fuck tradition, babe. I can come to you right now. I don’t like being apart from you, and I–”
“Want to keep me under your thumb. I get it.”
I blink in surprise at the tone of her voice. She isn’t sad, but resigned.
“I want to keep you safe,” I amend. I glance down at my phone on a stand in front of me, with the little flashing dot. She’s so close to me.
“Right,” she says softly. “I once—that’s all any of them ever wanted, or so they said. My father.” Her voice trembles. “My—well, everyone. Wanted to keep me safe.”
I sink into an armchair and check the time. Romeo will be here in an hour. We’re heading into town. She’s more important, though. This is more important.
“Because you matter, baby.” I close my eyes against the rush of heat that floods me. I open my mouth but can’t speak the thoughts and words that want to choke me.
“See, Tavi? That’s just it, isn’t it?” Her voice rises, strengthening, and I can see her. Standing tall, with her shoulders back. Those beautiful amber eyes of hers alight with fire, her slender, lovely hands fisted by her sides. “I matter because I’m a commodity. I never mattered, did I? Do I?”
I watch the little dot on my phone move.
I open my mouth and start to speak, but she cuts me off. “No. No, please. Let me talk.”
I wish she was next to me. I nod. “Go on.” I can give her this at least.
“I mattered as collateral to my family, Ottavio. I got perfect grades. I kept my body in perfect shape. I fear… I fear being anything less than exceptional. I wore perfect clothing and perfect shoes. I did everything right, and I… I’m drawn to you because of all of this, this… baggage.”
I feel my brows pucker. “What do you mean?”
“You’re successful and powerful and handsome. You could’ve gone to Harvard. You’re the whole package, you know?”
I shrug. Whatever. I don’t want to detract from what she needs to say, though, so I only encourage her to go on. “Okay, I see what you mean, yeah.”
“And I’m afraid that… that our relationship will be just… perfect, but that you’ll always be… well, emotionally distant.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Goddamn if she hasn’t nailed my very own fears with striking precision.
“Touché, baby. Touché,” I whisper. “Give me a minute.”
I send Romeo a quick text. I won’t be going tonight. Wine and dine ‘em, bro. I’m needed elsewhere
His text comes back immediately.
Romeo: Where?
I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
My bride.
Romeo: Go. I’ve got this.
“Elise?”
“Yes?” I walk to my door and open it.
“Get in here.”
She’s sitting right outside my door and gives me a sheepish smile. I don’t wait for her to come to me. I go to her.
I bend, lift her in my arms, and carry her into my room. I kick the door closed behind me.
“This is bad luck,” she whispers. “We don’t need bad luck, Tavi.”