Rosa chuckled as she gently pushed my hands away and started to undo the tiny satin buttons. “Looks like Luca inherited my wedding day bad luck.”
I made a noncommittal noise, twisting my hands in front of me. The wrong Moretti was helping me out of my dress. Disappointment and nagging guilt weighed heavily on my heart. As the fabric loosened, so did the hold on my emotions. Blinking back tears, I tried to focus on the mundane things around me. The dull hum of the house, the clean Luca smell that saturated the room, the pictures of us that lined the walls—anything to keep me in the present. My eyes swung back to the mirror, and I caught a flash of Rosa’s black hair behind me.
“At least Dante and I got to have our wedding ceremony,” she scoffed, her fingers shaking against my back. “We got to the reception, and one of the capos who didn’t want to see our families unite shot up the hotel lobby.”
Unsure if I heard her right, I twisted around, and her hands fell to her sides. “What?”
Rosa’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “I got one dance with my new husband before he left me to handle them.” She huffed and turned me back around. “So, there I was, newly married and in a strange home with my future brother-in-law. It was terrible.” She laughed. “I was stuck in my dress and starving, but I didn’t want to spend any more time with Lorenzo. So, I sat in our bedroom eating strawberries and drinking champagne until I passed out. In the middle of the night, Dante comes in, and I think he’s an intruder, so I shot at him.”
I let out a breathless laugh. The image of Dante Moretti ducking a shot by his new wife was a balm to my aching heart. If only I could’ve watched the motherfucker dance.
“You could say our wedding day set the tone for our marriage. The outside world coming at us, Dante handling them, and me handling Dante. For nearly forty years, it worked. Until—Well . . .” Rosa unfastened the last button and took a step back. “There. You’re free to get comfortable.”
I braced the front of the dress with one arm as I turned to her. “Thank you.” I grasped her hand and squeezed. “And thank you for being here.”
Rosa wiped under her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” She gave me a watery smile, then walked away from me, smoothing the comforter as she went to the door. “Get changed. I’ll clear the house so you can have some peace and quiet.” She closed the door behind her, finally leaving me alone.
Blowing out a breath, I let the dress pool at my feet. The beautiful cream lingerie I’d chosen was an unfriendly reminder of how differently the night should have gone.
In a daze, I changed and went downstairs. The house was quiet, but I knew Rosa and at least a few Moretti men were still with me. Thankfully, no one was in the kitchen. I peeked in the oven, and sure enough, a foil-covered plate waited for me.
Alone, I picked at the delicious meal Luca had chosen for our big day, and the ache in my chest intensified. While the food was prepared by Loretta and her kitchen, the details were all my husband. Every bite was a piece of our history, a little “I love you” in the language Luca knew best.
When I finished, I put my plate in the dishwasher and went to the refrigerator. Tears welled in my eyes as I stood, staring at the white box that held the top of our cake. As confident as everyone was that Luca would be home in a matter of days, doubt scratched at the back of my mind.
I picked up the box, surprised by the heft of such a small piece of cake. Setting it back on the shelf next to the lifetime supply of gourmet food, I eyed the raised gold circle sticker holding the lid closed. All it would take was the slide of one fingernail, and I would see the final design. Luca and Paul had been very hush-hush about it, and I’d been looking forward to the big reveal. It looked like I’d be waiting a little longer.
Ryan circled my feet, knocking his furry head against my shins. “He’s going to be home soon.” I reached down to scratch behind his ears, and he meowed, his tail flipping. “Morettis don’t do time.” He flashed his green eyes up at me and strutted away.
“Your support is overwhelming,” I muttered.