I followed, more confused than I was five minutes ago. Sarah knew. Sarah knew, and she never said a damn word. Maybe we were more alike than I’d ever realized.
Groomsmen still dressed in black tuxes zipped by us, carrying trays of food to the kitchen. We barely cleared the front door before we ran smack dab into the pile of wrapped gifts stacked along the entryway. My tranquil home was in utter chaos.
“Put the cake top in the fridge. Sasha will want to save it for when Luca gets home,” Rosa ordered from the kitchen.
I knocked into a particularly shiny package, toppling the small pile on top of it and drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “Uh, maybe we can put these somewhere else?” Little pieces of crinkled tissue paper slipped out of my shaking fingers as I tried to shove them back into a white glittery bag.
“Malcolm, start moving these into the dining room,” Ashley yelled over her shoulder as she joined Sarah in dragging me away from the festive mess. “Does that work for you, Sasha?” Her warm brown eyes searched my face.
Unable to take the scrutiny, I focused on brushing a piece of tinsel off the skirt of her plum bridesmaid’s dress. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
The men carted the gifts away, slowly clearing my entryway. Ashley and Malcolm shared a serious look, and she shook her head, sending her natural curls bouncing around her chin. The press of her lips deepened the dimples in her cheeks. Their silent conversation continued until Malcolm frowned and took the last box away.
I grabbed her hand. “It’s okay if you need to go. I understand.”
“No. I’m here until you’re settled. You’ve had a hell of a day, and I’m not leaving you alone.”
I scoffed and gestured at the people milling about my crowded house.
Ashley sucked her teeth. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.” I pulled her into a tight hug. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”
“We’re family. It’s what we do.”
I took a deep breath and let her go. Everyone was trying to help, and I appreciated it, but it was a bit overwhelming. Eyeing the stairs, I wondered if everyone would leave if I went up to bed.
“Sasha.” Rosa’s gentle voice drew my attention from the top of the steps. “My sweet girl. Are you doing okay?” She acted like we hadn’t just been together. Like she hadn’t just watched me anxiety puke in the bridal suite.
“I’m fine,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Her sad smile let me know I had missed the mark.
“Let me make you a plate.” Rosa took my hand and pulled me with her, leaving no room for disagreement. My two bridesmaids trailed behind us, letting Luca’s mom call the shots. “Despite what happened today, we need to make sure you and the baby are taken care of.”
Ashley and Sarah started to argue, but I raised my hand to stop them. There was no point correcting her. She wouldn’t listen to me when my head was in the toilet back in the bridal suite. Why would she listen now? I’d probably have to pee on a hundred sticks to prove to her I was indeed not pregnant.
“Frankie, stay out of the food until Sasha eats!” Rosa left me at the bar stools and stormed over to the stove.
Frankie dropped the cover on whatever he was about to pick at and leaned against the counter. “You’re right. There’s not enough food.” He gestured to the dozen or so containers scattered about the kitchen.
Rosa ignored her nephew and loaded up a plate while I watched from the kitchen island. My stomach turned as I imagined eating, but it appeared as if I had no choice. “Did Marco leave with Adriana and Dante?”
Rosa shook her head as she snagged a piece of bread. “He’s on the phone with the lawyers in the office.” She lifted her chin toward the hallway. “If we’re lucky, Luca will get a bail hearing Monday morning.”
Two nights.
My husband would be spending at least two nights in jail.
With a hand resting on my churning stomach, I rounded the island. “I’ll be right back.”
Rosa said something, but I was already halfway down the hall and couldn’t hear her. Whatever she had to say didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting more information about Luca.
The office door was shut, but I could make out Marco’s deep voice ripping someone a new asshole. Instead of knocking and waiting like I usually would, I slipped inside, closing the door behind me.
Marco glanced up from the desk and held up a finger. “I don’t care if Judge Tripp’s on vacation. Get a hold of him. He owes us.” He ended the call and tossed his phone on the desk. “What’s up?”
“Your cousin Lorenzo.”
Marco pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. “What about him?”