I kissed her then, memorizing how the brilliant blue of her eyes reminded me of calmness and serenity. Her arms went around my shoulders, warming me and comforting me from the inside out. Her presence provided me with the strength I needed to go on. After the necessity of caressing my lips to hers lessened, we gently broke apart, Lucia squinting up at me. “Did you just say that you loved me?”
“Yes,” I said, my tone firm. I’d never meant anything more. Then, she surprised me by pressing her cool palms to my cheeks. Her thumbs caressed the skin below my eyes and removed the droplets of moisture that had drifted there.
“I love you, Romeo. I don’t know if anyone is still here, but I’d like to marry you, either way.” Then, for the first time ever, she kissed me. I felt her offering like balm, and it provided me an anchor to affix myself to. Her eyes filled and overflowed, her tears rolling downwards to splash on my chin and neck. I felt them like a baptism and just like that, I was reborn.
With my farfalla’s assistance, I staggered to my father. He ordered everyone into their places again, and though perhaps only a fraction of the witnesses remained, we went forward. I made note of who those attendees were, wanting to remember the rare few who’d offered my family—and Lucia and I—their respect and loyalty.
Without bothering with the pomp and ceremony of having her twin sisters or my bride again traverse the aisle, we all simply stood up there at the altar together, Chiara, Alessandra, Marcello, Savio, Lucia and I. Someone must have told the priest about what had transpired because while I kept an eye on any motion that occurred in the chapel, he began our vows without any apparent qualms.
When he started to recite the traditional vows, his vestments of cream and metallic gold glinting marginally beside us, Lucia and I held each other’s hands, our gazes locked. My bride read hers—something Gianni had waved off during his disastrous hijacking of our wedding earlier—and then, I read mine, infusing into them everything I felt for her.
“I, Romeo Cavetti, take you, Lucia Bonifacio, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, no matter what challenges may face us or what blessings may be bestowed upon us. I will love, honor, and cherish you all the days of my life and beyond.”
We then exchanged rings, rings I felt surprised Marcello and Chiara still had possession of, and recited the ritualistic phrases everyone knew.
“With this ring, I thee wed.”
It felt surreal to go through with all this after so much had happened, but I didn’t want anything else infringing on the life my farfalla and I would now be sharing together. Once our rings were in place, the priest’s voice rose, and I spotted the nun who had helped me as she stood mostly concealed beneath one of the side corridors.
“Then, with the powers vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has placed together, let no man tear asunder. Romeo, you may kiss your bride.”
I leaned forward to do just that, and now that our deed was done, I felt a wave of exhaustion ripple over me. With Lucia’s assistance, I managed to crawl into the back of Marcello’s Escalade, immediately resting my head in her lap. Savio appeared to ride shotgun, and Marcello motored us away from St. Clements. Even though the threat of Gianni was no more, both of my brothers seemed on high alert as my brother drove us from the church and back to the mansion.
By the time we arrived back home, I’d grown lightheaded enough that it took both of my brothers to steer me into my bed, and I absorbed how good they’d been to both Lucia and me today. Once they departed, Lucia called for Philippa to bring food and medical supplies to tend to me with. After we were again alone, my wife stripped me down and rubbed a warm soapy cloth over me, cleaning the blood and other detritus of the day from my skin.
She replaced my bandages, disappeared for a few moments in order to complete her own shower, then came back to me in one of the silky nightgowns I’d purchased for her. Sliding in beside me, she laid down, situating her head on my shoulder. I leaned over to smudge a kiss to her forehead, but before I’d even finished the task, I’d drifted off to sleep.
23
Lucia
On the night of our wedding, Romeo and I slept chastely in one another’s arms. There was no rough sexual play or even any sort of consummation, both of us needed the time to recover from our ordeals first. My husband remained out for eighteen hours that night and followed that up by sleeping for eleven the next. But when he woke that third day, he seemed much better rested, so I felt we must be reaching the end of our long tunnel.
He’d slept so deeply that he didn’t hear me endure my daily bouts of vomiting until later that week.
“Did you just get sick?” he asked me, and I nodded, grimacing.
“It’s just morning sickness.”
“We need to get you either a midwife or a doctor.”
“Should you see a doctor?” I asked him, treading cautiously. While my family had a trusted family doctor, the Cavettis seemed reticent about involving outsiders in their health care.
“I’m doing better,” he hedged, and gathering my courage, I countered.
“You were shot, Romeo.”
“Do you know how many times my father and grandfather were shot while running the family business?” He didn’t seem put off or irritated, so I let my guard down a bit.
“No.”
“Five for my grandfather and twice for Angelo. And not once did they go to a hospital or doctor. Of course, that fifth shot ended up killing my grandfather outright.” He tipped his head from side to side as if measuring the merits of each approach on a set of scales, then he shrugged. “Father would see me as weak unless I were exceedingly close to dying. You may have noticed that him perceiving me as weak is not advisable.”
“Have you been shot before?”
“This was my indoctrination,” he smirked at me, and I marveled at him. Ever since Gianni’s treachery, he’d treated me differently, not raising his voice once. He’d behaved as if I was to be treasured instead, which I loved. Still, I wondered if he would revert back at some point. The more Romeo confided in me, the more I was beginning to see that Angelo’s methods of parenting might well be where the Cavetti streak of cruelty had come from.
“How about your brothers?”
“No, my father took on the philosophy that confrontations should use hired hands instead, let them take the risk. Also, we’ve been the aggressors for decades, so we knew going in what the threat was likely to be.”
I mulled that over. My own father had protected me from much of the business undertakings, so I’d had no preparation for what had eventually come. This impersonal way of looking at their business interests had won the Cavettis a lot of power.
“We could use the certified nurse midwife my mother used for me and the twins. She’s over in Oak Park.”
He put his palm against my belly. “I want to be there for all your visits.”
“I want that, too.”
“I’ll have your maid make an appointment.”
Philippa became quite involved in the pregnancy preparations after that. Over the next month, she made the appointments, provided whatever supplies I needed, and even offered to take me shopping for baby furniture. Romeo quickly vetoed that last adventure, and though I’d been disappointed, I soon discovered why.