Beautiful Lies

Chapter Eleven

Lorena

"I don't understand. Your heart should be feeling better," I say in a shaky voice. "Mi amore, it's not as bad as it sounds. The doctor just said I should avoid big trips. I'm so incredibly sorry."

In less than four hours, I have to be on a plane to Sicily. So that I can get married in two days. And now my mother, who I thought would accompany me when I walked down the aisle, tells me she will stay at home. My mother hasn't had the heart to tell me that she can't come with me, until now.

I've been emotionally charged all day because I can't go to Conneticut. If the devil hadn't postponed the appointment, I would have been there a few days ago. But no, now I have to wait another month.

"I'm sorry I can't be at your wedding.", says my mother. "That's all right. It's not like it's real." I sigh and run my hand over my hair.

"Ah amore." She walks up to me and takes me in her arms.

"You know if you do change your mind, you can always back out." How often have I had these thoughts? But I can't do it to Dante or my mother. For the first time in my life, my mother looks happy. We need the money and Dante needs a wife.

"No, I can't do that to Dante." I say.

"You like him, don't you?"

"He's not quite as bad as I thought." I say before I detach myself from her and go to my room.

My whole room looks so messy because I didn't know what to pack. In three and a half hours I have to sit on a plane smiling and realising that soon I will be a married woman. I don't even know if we're going on a honeymoon or not?

Suddenly I feel myself getting dizzy. I'm just realising that I don't know anything about him.

Oh my God, does Dante have a middle name? What's his favourite colour? Has he ever had a pet? I can feel my breath getting less and less and the panic rising inside me.

"Lorena, what's wrong with you?" my mother asks me in a panic.

"What if I hate being a wife? What if I'm a bad wife? We don't know anything about each other. We are strangers. I'm marrying a stranger. What if one day he gets tired of me and wants to get rid of me? I've seen a lot of movies and the man had a wife and poof suddenly he was a widower. I'm too young to die. Wasn't this supposed to be the happiest day ever?" 

Tears are running down my cheek and I can't calm down. 

Suddenly, I blacked out.

---

In the background I hear my mother talking to someone, but I can't concentrate on the voices.

"Principessa, what's going on?" I feel warm hands on my cheek. I slowly open my eyes and see  warm brown eyes.

He turns my head toward him."What are you doing here?" 

"I'm supposed to pick you up. We're going to Italy, aren't we?" 

"But we didn't agree for another three hours." 

"Mia cara, three hours have already passed. Your mother told me you passed away for several hours. How can I help you?"

"Do you have a middle name?"

"What?" he looks at me, confused.

"I asked you if you had a middle name."

"Yes, but why do you want to know?"

"We're flying to Italy today and we're getting married in two days and I don't know if you have a middle name. We don't know anything about each other. I know we're getting married for a reason and it's definitely not love, but shouldn't we know the basics?"

"Maria."

"My name is Lorena. You should know the name of your future wife," I look at him, offended.

"No, Maria is my middle name," he says, blushing slightly.

"Dante Maria Russo," I say with a grin. "Well, listen. You know Italian culture, most of them have a feminine middle name and it belonged to my mother." he says. His eyes radiate so much sadness that a piece of my heart breaks.

"Were you close to your mother?"

"Very! But that's a conversation for another time. You can ask me anything you want on the plane. I'll try to answer everything as best I can, and I don't want to get rid of you. We'll stay married for a year and after that we can each go our own way. You won't die at a young age," he says and winks at me.

My whole head is turning red. How long were my mother and Dante alone? And why does the thought that we will go our separate ways after a year bother me so much?

"Come, our flight is waiting." He takes my hand and helps me up.

I look around my messy room and decide that what I don't take with me today I can buy new. I take my suitcase and go with Dante to the living room.

"I love you, Mom," I say and hug her tightly. "You're going to be the most beautiful bride ever," she whispers in my ear.

I let go of her and to my big surprise Dante hugs my mother and whispers something in her ear. She blushes and laughs to herself. "Take good care of my daughter." 

"I will. Don't worry," he says, grinning devilishly at me. Now it's my turn to blush.

--

"This is so big."

"That's what she says."

"Why exactly is he flying with us?", I ask Dante, pointing to Mauro.

"He doesn't like scheduled flights. He's been bugging me for so long, I had two choices, either shoot him or let him come with us." 

"And since he loves me so much, I got to go on the private jet. Besides, it's so spacious here, there's room for more than two people," he adds with a grin.

"Mr. Russo, we're about to take off. Is there anything else I can do for you?" asks the blonde busty flight attendant.

"No, thank you," he mumbles and continues reading through his documents.

"You just have to say it. I'll do anything." I think they need to glue my jaw back on. How bold can you be?

I am about to open my mouth and tell her what I think when, to my surprise, Dante intervenes.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm sitting here with my fiancée. I would advise you to never disrespect her like that again." He looks at her with a cold gaze.

"Oh, yes, of course," she stammers.

Dante just got ten times hotter. I feel like jumping on him.

"You can do anything for me." Mauro calls after her as she walks away. Laughing, I shake my head.

"Dear passengers, please fasten your seat belts. In a few minutes we will take off. We wish you a pleasant flight.", says the pilot.

Would now be a good time to admit that I have never flown before?

I fasten my seat belt and wipe my sweaty hands on my pants. I close my eyes and slowly count down from ten. I feel a rumble and have to swallow hard. I read that the chance of dying in a plane crash is very small. However, there is always a possibility and why should I be the exception? Maybe I am the 0.001%, who knows.

"Calma. Contare fino a dieci, principessa.", Dante whispers in my ear while carefully placing his hand in mine.

"Tell me something. Anything, as long as it's something," I whisper.

"I'm an only child, but I never felt alone because my mother always brightened up my days. We used to bake while singing old Italian songs. My father couldn't stand it because he didn't want my mother to go soft on me. I never loved a woman as much as I loved her and the day she died; my feelings died with her."

I don't know if I want to hug him, cry for him or fuck him. I think all three things are the case.