I’m marrying the girl of my dreams on Friday. Fuck the twenty-two-year age difference between us or what people will say. You can’t help who you fall in love with, and I will spend every single day of the rest of my life loving her.
THREE
ARABELLA
Despite wanting a super small wedding of friends and immediate family only, we still wanted our union blessed by the Catholic Church. I am sure we will have a huge reception later, but the most important part is that we’ll be married in a few short minutes. The priest at St. Francis was happy to oblige us. On Friday morning, I put on my best dress and took a cab down to the church.
I am the last to arrive. When I see him down at the other end of the aisle, my heart skips a beat. He looks hot as hell in his tux. My father walks me down the aisle and gives me away to Bart, a surprisingly huge smile on his face.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the blissful union of Bartolo Giuseppe Vitali and Arabella Maria Mettle. Marriage isn’t something that should be entered into lightly, as the bonds of which can never be broken. Let us begin. Will you please repeat this vow to Arabella: I, Bartolo, take you, Arabella, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”
“I, Bartolo, take you, Arabella, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.
“Very good. Now, will you please repeat this vow to Bartolo: I, Arabella, take you, Bartolo, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”
“I, Arabella, take you, Bartolo, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.”
“You will now exchange rings. Place the ring on Arabella’s finger. You can say whatever comes into your heart as you do.” He slides the ring onto my finger and squeezes my hand.
“I love you so much, mi bella fantasia. Forever and always. We belong together and you are everything I ever hoped for in a wife. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you.” I smile though tears are pouring down my face.
“I love you too, Bart. Forever. There is nothing more complete than we are. I can feel it. I knew it when you rescued me and when you kissed me for the first time. Forever isn’t nearly long enough.” I slide the gold band onto his finger.
“Bart and Arabella have come here today before us and before God expressing their desire to become husband and wife. They have joined hands and made promises to each other. Therefore, with power vested in by the great state of New York, and by God Almighty, I now pronounce to you husband and wife. Bart, you may kiss the bride. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to introduce to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Vitali.”
I have never been happier than I am right now.
Three Weeks Later
I am shopping on 5th Avenue. I haven’t done this is months, but I need a new purse. The straps on my last one finally broke, and I am treating myself to a really fancy one. My bodyguard, Hannah, is checking out a wallet when I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I turn and frown slightly when I see a little girl who has been crying.
“Hello sweet girl. Are you lost?” I ask. The little girl nods.
“Where’s your mommy?” She just shakes her head.
“I don’t have a mommy.”
“Daddy?”
“No.”
“Come,” she whispers. “Please.” She takes my hand and tries to drag me, but she’s a tiny little thing. No more than five years old.
Amused, I follow her out of the store. Hannah is close behind me, but she’s not fast enough. As soon as we go around the side of the building, the little girl and I are thrown into a van.
Fuck. This is all too familiar. The little girl moves away from me as the van speeds down the street. I watch in fascination as she buckles herself into a booster seat.
“Good job, Little Lita. Boss will be proud of you.”
“Fuck the boss,” she says. I’ve never heard a child curse before so I can’t help it when I burst out laughing. This seems crazy almost like a prank.