"But I always knew you were brutal." I swallow. "Please, Christian, I don’t want to do this."
"Why not?"
"It will simply draw attention to us."
"What are you afraid of, Aurora?" He scans my features. "Tell me; I can’t help you unless you do."
"I … I can’t." I wish I could. I do…but if I do, you'll hate me. You'll never be able to love me , and where would that leave me? But you love him, and if you truly cared for him, you'd tell him everything so he can protect himself. And if I do, I'll never be able to see him again. And that I won't be able to bear. I can’t bring myself to. I can’t. I spin around and head toward the exit.
"Aurora," he calls out, "this isn’t over yet. I won’t stop until you reveal how you knew that man."
"So, what do you think?" Karma asks.
We returned to Palermo yesterday, and then it was a headlong rush to get everything ready for the wedding. If Karma hadn't come through on the dress, I’m not sure what I would have done.
I take in my reflection in the mirror in the bedroom of Nonna's home. It's where I had returned, and this time, Christian hadn't protested. In fact, when I told him that I was returning to Nonna's place, he agreed it was a good idea. That way, he wouldn't see me the day before the wedding, as tradition dictates. Good thing too, because I can't wait to see his face when he sees me in this dress. The cream-colored gown with golden coils of thread woven through it clings to my shoulders, embraces my breasts, and cinches in at the waist before it flows down to my toes. The long sleeves are made of lace. When I move my arm, a hint of skin peeks through the gaps in the embroidery; the recurring motif is a thick braid that loops around and in on itself before it streams down to the cuffs.
The train flows behind me and is made of sheer lace with silver and gold shot through the pattern of—you guessed it—vines.
The design is so appropriate, it seems like it was created in my mind’s eye and brought to life in a manner so detailed that I can’t wrap my mind around it.
"Well?" she asks again. "Hopefully, you don’t hate it. I only had a few days to get it right, so…" Her voice peters out.
I turn one way, then the other, and rake my gaze over my figure in profile. The silken material clings to my curves, it flattens my belly, and emphasizes the lushness of my hips. The cut shows off my shoulders, frames my face, and the golden threads in the sleeves bring out the highlights in my hair. I take a step forward, and the skirt rustles when I walk. It slides over my thighs, reminding me of his touch. Goose bumps pop on my skin. I prop my hand on my hip, stick out a leg, and the material seems to flow and resettle over my shape, with a flash of a shapely ankle—my ankle—which is encircled by the strap of a wicked six-inch Salvatore Ferragamo shoe.
On my head, I wear a simple tiara from which the champagne and gold veil flows down my back to trail behind me. The overall effect is subtle and powerful and undeniably sexy, and yet… It’s also restrained. It hints at hidden depths of complexity and poetry, all melded together in one unique silhouette; the one that enfolds me.
"Aurora," Karma probes, "you’re making me nervous."
"It’s…" I shake my head. The pressure builds behind my eyes, my chin trembles, and damn it, I don’t want to cry I don’t. "It’s…" I sniffle, trying to get the words out, but they stick in my throat.
"Oh my god," Karma says in horror. "you hate it. I knew I needed more time to get it right. Damnit; we should have taken you to a boutique and allowed you to buy one of your choice. I should have—"
"Shut up." I turn on her. "Don’t you dare say that."
"Um… Okay," Karma chews on her lower lip, "but I have to say that you are confusing me, Aurora."
"There’s no confusion." I glance from her to Theresa, who’s hovering in the background, then back to Karma. "It’s clear that when you created this dress, you had a very clear idea of who I am. What I like and what my deepest, most secret desires are."
"Wow," Karma blinks rapidly, "that’s good, right? That’s a compliment, correct?" She shuffles her weight between her feet. "So, you like it. You do like it, right?"
"No, I don’t like it—"
Her face falls.
"I LOVE it, you stupid, brilliant woman!" I close the distance between us and throw my arms around her. "It’s gorgeous; it’s beautiful. It’s the kind of dress I had hoped for, but had always thought I’d never be able to have, and now—"
"You do." Theresa walks forward and embraces both of us. "You look absolutely breathtaking, Aurora." She sniffs. "You are a vision."
A tear runs down her cheek, and I realize that she is remembering Xander and the wedding she had hoped to have with him. "I am so sorry, Theresa." I turn to her. "This must be painful for you."
"No" she shakes her head, "I am just being sentimental. Fact is, everything I had hoped to have with Xander was a figment of my imagination."
"Are you sure he didn’t feel something for you?" Karma murmurs.
"Even if he did," she swallows, "it wasn’t something he was sure of. He was torn inside, and I never had the courage to approach him and talk to him about it. I was too shy, too worried about upsetting people, too conscious of how it would look if I pursued him." She hunches her shoulders. "Now, I wish I had simply cornered him and told him how I felt. It might have, at least, revealed if he had feelings for me or not. But I didn’t, and now he’s gone, and I’ll never know." Her features crumple. "Oh, hell..." she turns away, "this is a happy occasion. I am not supposed to be bawling like this. It’s your wedding, and I am spoiling it." She cries harder.
Karma and I look at each other, then as one, we move to her and hug her. "Oh, honey," I rub her back. "It’s okay; let it out. I know how hard this is for you. I really do."