Italy

"Something blue and borrowed," Maria hums, tucking a small sapphire clip into my hair. She's styled it, working her magic in less than thirty minutes. Half up, and half down, my hair hangs mid-back, grazing the bare skin above the dipped cut of my wedding dress. I've never allowed it to get this long, not wanting to deal with the hassle, but Giovanni has mentioned liking the length a few times, so I've left it alone. My morning started without him, as last night, he was forced to abide by traditions usually placed on wedding days. It didn't matter that we'd already been married for a year.

She's fumbling with the clip enough to ensure strict security when the door opens, revealing Giovanni's mother. Meeting my gaze with a demure smile, she clears her throat uncomfortably.

That describes our encounters completely.

Uncomfortable.

Both of us cordial so we can co-exist with Anna and Giovanni without fights, we try our best to stay away from one another. She hasn't warmed to me, but she seems to accept me as a permanent part of her son's life, which is progress.

Most days I can hardly figure her out.

"I have the something old with me," she announces.

She sets down a small handcrafted-wood jewelry box onto the vanity. It plays a sweet song at opening, before she rummages, searching for something particular. Pulling back the folds of crimson velvet, she produces lace, which turns out to be a delicate garter.

She rests it into my hands. "This was my mother's...Giovanni's grandmother's. She was married to my father for fifty-five years. I trust it will bring you luck, although I hardly think you need it."

Even Maria's brows rise in the reflection of the mirror at the gesture. And when Giovanni's mother turns to Maria, asking for a moment alone with me, my own brows soar as I fall into speechlessness.

"Of course. I'll go check if Rebecca's let anyone else hold Anna yet. Everyone wants to hold that angel." She cups my cheek with a gentle hand, no doubt sending me courage and willpower so that I'm able to get through whatever Giovanni's mother has to say without losing my mind. I watch her go with longing, quite unprepared for this.

His mother, dressed in a cream-colored dress, conservative around the neck and knees, takes a seat in the chair beside the vanity, scooting it closer to me. Her hat is gigantic, and adorned with white flowers.

She inhales, deeply, and stares at her freshly manicured hands in her lap.

"I've wondered how to have to have this conversation with you for months now."

I turn my legs to her. "What conversation?"

"As you know," she clears her throat, "And as I told you, I didn't want you for my son. In fact, I had so many conversations with him about how badly I wanted him to leave you. As you know, I was misusing my medications, which doesn't excuse much because in truth, the drugs didn't matter. You have been associated with the downfall of my family."

"My husband, my children are my world, and when someone is trying to destroy that world...my son is in jail, the name 'Martinelli' is tattered, only on the rise now because of Gio's talent and charm. Everything this family had strived and achieved began to crumble the moment you entered his life."

She presses her lips together. "But I blamed you for something you had no part in. My husband did what he did by his own choice. My son did, too. He betrayed his brother, countless times, and he betrayed us. And as much as I love Tony and wish things didn't go this way, I understand that he needed to be stopped."

I'm stunned by how much this seems like an apology, despite her delivery on it.

"I always wanted Lola with Gio, as they seemed to pair up so well, and she'd known the family closely for so long. When she left him for Tony, she told me she couldn't handle Giovanni's constant absence. In my mind, I took that as his neglect. It took him meeting you, and seeing him with you, to realize his distance from her was intentional, and a sign of his unhappiness."

She stands up onto slim heels, crossing her arms over her body, inhaling.

"It's every mother's dream...to see their son as happy as mine is right now. I'm not blind. I know you're to thank for that."

"I was very impressed with you...when you offered your own inheritance, your own money to help keep some sort of consistency for this family. The house we're standing in is still ours because of you. My home. Giovanni's studios. You, and the money your father left for his son-in-law...I haven't thanked you for that, and I am sorry for it."

I shake my head. "I've never had anyone to care for, to protect. You don't need to thank me for protecting him or you."

"I said some terrible things to you...about your past."

"You don't need to mention it," I mumble, finding the subject bleak on a day like this.

"Yes, I do. I've had a lot of time, in rehab, to think on this. And I really want to say it to you, because I truly think you are inspiring, in many ways. Growing up the way you did, becoming what you are now—a business owner, a public figure, a wife, and new mother—it's inspiring. And I should have never said what I said to you. I made you feel like you had some part in your upbringing, and you didn't."

She thinks I'm inspiring?

I smile softly, touched beyond words. "Thank you."

"I don't expect that we'll become close overnight, of course, but I'd like to know my son's wife better than I do now. You may not want that after everything, and I'd understand. But, just think on it, okay?"

We're saved by any awkwardness we soon would have felt when the door opens, revealing Rebecca, already dressed in her pale pink bridesmaid dress, holding my veil. I watch as she leaves, with the excuse of seeing her son before the nuptials.

"What was that?"

I blink in wonder. "She apologized."

"That's big of her, considering you're the best thing that's ever happened to that family. Finally, she sees it."

"Be nice, Bec."

She sighs. "Okay, okay."

"I need her on my side."

"Giovanni's happiness doesn't rely on his mother's opinions of you."

"I know."

Still, the thought of us, a united family, where Giovanni doesn't have to guard me around her, excites me to no end. I want that for us. Giovanni hides it well, but I know it has to bother him.

She pins the lace to my hair, gently and it dawns on me that outside there are at least ten members of the press, waiting in the wings to watch Giovanni and I marry in an unofficial ceremony along the Italian countryside. All of this is more for his family, who loathed that they weren't present at the actual vows we made to one another.

"Who has Anna now?" I ask, having been seated at this vanity for over an hour. I'm itching to find her.

"Giovanni does, so no, you can't go see her."

"I'm already married, Bec. The superstitions don't apply here."

"To these people, they do."

"Well, you're not these people, and last I checked, you are the only one in my way of the door," I say with a cheeky smile. She glares at me through the mirror and caves with a roll of her eyes.

"Alright, go on then. But if anyone asks, you slipped out on your own!"

"Fine."

I stand with a spring to my step, and kiss her cheek in my escape. Pleased when the hallway is clear of wedding guests, I take the steps two at a time, slipping out of the French doors, knowing he spent the night in the apartment. It's a task to get by the crews setting up, or the press who are setting up their tripods for the event.

But I'm undetected in my covertness. I slip in through the door, and shut it closed behind my back, sighing against the hard wood. When I open my eyes, Giovanni is standing by the mirror, his hands mid-air by his bow-tie, staring at me.

I smile, slowly when he turns, completely caught off guard by his speed. My heels scatter across the floorboards as he gathers me in his arms, and lifts me into the air. Relaxing against him, I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, burrowing my fingers into his hair.

Keeping me off my feet, he places a hand behind my neck, over the soft lace, and tilts his face to me.

"You look like an angel."

I shake my head, leaning down to kiss him. Our mouths drag against one another with ease, comfortable and savoring. "I can't believe how hard it is to sleep without you."

"Don't I know it? I nearly snuck into your room last night."

"No doubt your family would have been on the watch for it."

He chuckles, kissing me again. "No doubt."

"Where's Anna?"

"With my mother...she was just here."

"She apologized to me a few minutes ago. I'm still a little shocked about it."

He chuckles, setting me down to reach into his pocket. "Yes, well, that would explain this."

He produces a ring—his mother's wedding ring—that had until this day been firmly, and stubbornly, on her finger. Gaping, I look from the heirloom to his face, disbelieving.

"What did she say?"

"That she should have given it to you from the beginning."

There's a loud knock on the door, and I jump in place, blanching at the doorway.

"I'll be down in a bit."

"Cugino, your obligatory shot is waiting in the main house. Come on. It's a little late for your looks, huh?"

I stifle a laugh in his tuxedo jacket as Giovanni begins to shuffle me back toward the doors.

"Cugino!"

"Alright, I'm coming. I'm coming."

My back flattens against the doorway and slides up as he lifts me back off my feet.

"I like that this is satin...very easy to push back," he whispers, as one of his hands begins to hike up the material up and over my knee, all the way up to my garter. His smile creeps wider. "Fucking hell."

"Why don't we break some traditions today?" I nuzzle my nose against his, curling around him suggestively.

"What did you have in mind?"

His voice has lowered, which tells me a considerable amount, not to mention the fact that there's steel between his legs.

"I'm thinking...we should lock the door, and sufficiently use up the ten minutes of the remaining thirty left," I declare, breathlessly.

He smiles, dazzling me when my wandering hand finally snaps the lock into place behind me.

"Ten minutes?"

"Ten."

"How do you think we should spend that time?"

"You know what I want."

"Yes, I do." His mouth covers mine with enough pent-up energy to send my skull into the door with a bang. Too aroused to feel the pain of it, I moan into his lips, tasting crisp mouthwash when his tongue slips in and drags along my own.

We drink each other in with deep inhales and long, drawn-out licks. He works his way down to my throat as I fumble with his pants, pulling his smooth shirt from its tucked position with a sharp tug. Because my legs have wound around him, he can touch me freely. His hands glide up my legs, and over the garter, and down over the curve of my backside.

My breath hitches against his mouth as he drives into me with a rough swift movement, which spurs a deep moan from him, as both of his hands plant on the door on either side of my body. I can tell he wants to savor it, but there's no time.

We can't be late to our own wedding.

...

"Where have you been?" Maria gasps as I hurry into the kitchen, smiling wide when I find her working over the stove, Rebecca beside her with my five-month-old daughter in her arms.

"Last minute preparations."

Rebecca smirks, handing her over to me carefully. "Your veil looks like shit. Wonder how that happened?"

Glaring at her with wide, telling eyes, I chuckle off her statement and let her fix it, dedicating the few minutes they'll allow me to have with Anna today. Giovanni's family is affectionate, which I should have anticipated. They all swoon around a baby, and over the week we've been here, there's been more than one fight over who gets to hold her.

Taking a seat on one of the benches, I hold her close to my chest, checking over her soundly, ensuring no one has accidentally done her any harm. When I'm reassured, knowing I'm worrying for nothing, I smile, still awed by how easy it is to love her.

My parents made it seem like it was very hard, the largest task in the world. My mother, my aunt, in reality, was a woman who kissed me goodnight and helped me with my homework as best as she could. I loved her infinitely before knowing the truth.

I haven't yet found the strength to forgive them, and I'm pretty sure it will be a long time before I can, but I'm not scared to be a mother anymore. The pain, the hurt they've given me, if anything, has made it easier to be a mother. I'll take my own fears and insecurities, and make sure those are the things she'll never, ever feel.

I want her to be completely oblivious to pain.

My fingers smooth over her small head, caressing her baby skin. Her eyes are closed, but her arms and legs are still bouncing. Rebecca tilts my head up, applying a soft lipstick to my mouth, shaking her head in disapproval. I'm still blushing when Maria announces it's time, leaving her stove only then to her staff.

"Come, come, pretty lady," she whispers as I stand, kissing Anna. "There will be plenty of time for that after the festivities."

I lay her in Maria's arms reluctantly. "I fed her a little over an hour ago, but you never know...she might—"

"She will be fine, sweetheart," she coos, grabbing the blanket she hand-wove for Anna, and drapes it over her carefully, not to wake her. When we exit the kitchen, the house is a ghost town, and I can hear heavy chatter coming through the wide French doors.

Maria leaves through them and gasps when she nearly crashes right into the groom's party on their way to the altar.

"No, no, no! You cannot see the bride—!"

Giovanni's eyes in passing meet mine, alight, and fearing the wrath of Maria, his cousins begin to drag him down the terrace. I laugh when Giovanni turns, walking backward, to irritate his aunt—and make me delirious.

"Just because you are already married does not mean—! Ugh!"

She turns to me, huffing. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," I hint as she kisses my cheek, muttering as she takes the steps one at a time, careful not to wake Anna.

"It's too bad Connor couldn't make it until tonight. I'm sure he really wanted to walk you down the aisle."

I shake my head, grabbing the freshly-picked bouquet from the wooden table. "It's okay. It seems right to do it on my own."

The music begins, and she smiles softly, pulling me close. "You won't be on your own... Norman will be with you, and your mother."

Her words hit like a blow, a blow I hadn't anticipated. I pull back quickly, blinking away anything that might ruin the hard work she and Maria have put into me today.

"I'll be right there, too, you know?"

I nod, shaking my head. "I don't tell you enough...how much you mean to me. I'm not good with it, with trusting people. You're always there when I need you, and I want you to know—"

"Scarlett."

I inhale and blow out the breath. "What?"

"I do know."

With that, she smiles and turns, walking calmly toward the wedding party, leaving me alone to gear myself up for the public eye. I've already done this once before, almost exactly a year ago, and I spent nearly the entire time in a relentless panic.

Today is my do-over. Today is the day I let myself bask in this public declaration of love. It's been five months since Anna entered our life in person, and in those five months, we've become more than ourselves.

Just when I think I love him too much to breathe straight, he does something that expands the room in my chest, making it easy to capture his affection and hold it captive. I rely on his attention, and he's so gracious with it that I never feel a bit of abandonment.

The only mistake I made was waiting so long to marry him in the first place.

I lift my hand to my neck. I clasp the locket where S and G entwine in the engraving. A gift from Giovanni on the day he first proposed to me, right here in Italy.

"I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be."

The small words written across both inner faces of the locket, taken from my favorite novel, Great Expectations. A novel he knew was precious to me because of the memories it held within.

Against all odds, he stayed true to those words, even when I made it impossible.

He fought. He protected. He suffered for this love of ours.

Now, we get to feel the blunt fierceness of it all.

Now...we get to be happy.

With those words hanging in the air, I begin down the steps, and the wedding march begins.

...

There's no greater feeling than the moment the man you love singles you out in a room full of people. The moment he calls upon you, and everyone's heads turn and watch as he declares himself yours.

It's what Giovanni has just done, standing in the middle of the wide tent, the extravagant cultured reception surrounding him. His hand is extended, his eyes completely composed. The reporters are gone now. Our friends and family observe as I walk around the tables until we're face to face.

"When I Fall In Love" begins to play, soaring through the air of the open tent. There are dangling lights that sparkle against the other lights and dance wildly along the material.

Giovanni pulls me close, holding my hand to his chest tightly as we begin to sway.

Giovanni's mother's ring shines against my wedding band, and my eyes flash over to her instinctively. She's holding Anna, cradling her sweetly, but her eyes are on us.

She smiles softly when she catches my gaze.

I do the same, my chest full to capacity.

"If I could see you this happy for the rest of my life, I'll die happy," Giovanni says low enough only I can hear, and I look up to find him watching me. My smile extends until it's uncontrollable.

All around us, glasses begin to clink.

So, we give them what they want. Our lips meet.

Eventually, and thankfully, people begin to fill the dance floor until it's crowded enough that we can make our escape. All obligatory deeds of the wedding ceremony performed now, we both are prepared to enjoy the rest of the evening in peace. Rebecca is talking up one of the guests, a distant relative of Giovanni's I haven't even been introduced to yet.

Seeing Giovanni hold Anna is still as raw an image as the day he first held her.

Instead of scrubs, he's upgraded to a tuxedo, and he adores her under the twinkling lights with his eyes, basking her in smiles and laughter. She can only giggle, not yet able to laugh, but he's determined. I sit down and watch them together, my eyes drifting to the rest of the picture.

A full family of people who have taken me in.

A daughter who is bright and healthy and born into a world where she won't feel even an ounce of what I did.

A man who loves me more than my mind can actually comprehend.

In retrospect, it happened so quickly. The dark times felt like eternities, but in reality, we've moved quickly to get what we want. We've succeeded thus far, and despite whatever may lie ahead, I don't fear it.

We're strong. So much stronger than we usually give each other credit for.

Quietly, I slip from the conversation to avoid letting anyone see how quickly my own thoughts affect me. My veil blows against the autumn wind approaching when I'm clear of the tent. The view under the moonlight is striking. Nearly full, the sky illuminates the countryside. All of the rolling hills, the fresh dirt, the small streams.

Even the wind has a sound. A light song.

I close my eyes, soaking up this moment, capturing it in my mind. Eventually, this memory will replace one of the dark ones until my life is so full of joy that I can no longer dwell on the past. I'm convinced to be happy and present.

I'm convinced I want to move on.

My memories have already begun to change.

Waking at three to find Giovanni singing to the baby in the nursery...

Reading off the perfect front page review of Giovanni's work to him while he's in the shower...

Visiting Norman's grave for the second time and finding peace with it...

"You ran off," Giovanni says, disrupting the noises of nature. I open my eyes, slowly smiling.

"No, no running. Just wanted some air."

Giovanni in a tuxedo under the moonlight...the view doesn't compare to him. Not in the slightest.

"What are you thinking about?"

"A lot."

"You're not going to tell me?"

I smile. "It's sappy."

"I think I can take it," he replies, smirking.

He moves closer, extending his hand. I take it, sighing deeply when he tugs me as close as I can get, molding against his chest.

"Tell me."

"You remember...when you said you just wanted to be there, to watch me save myself?"

"Mm," he hums in assent against my hair. "You did it."

"Without you, Giovanni, if I'd never met you, I-I'd still be alone on Christmas. I'd still be working until midnight. I'd still have no one. And now I have everything." I press my face into his heart. "I owe you everything...my whole life."

The seconds pass, and I want to extend them, force them to last longer than they are.

"I'll give you mine if you give me yours," he suddenly whispers above my head.

It's like an electric shock to the heart.

Tilting my head back, I gaze up at him, warm underneath his smooth hands. His dark eyes consist of the world, my world.

"Given," I whisper back, my voice trembling as I attempt to smile over the tears.

His thumb moves glacially along my cheek, wiping the one that escapes. He smiles.

"Given."

The End