XVII. The Wedding Part I

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My foot anxiously dribbles as the woman applies the makeup on my face. "Dear, stop shaking."

I stopped shaking my foot.

The door creaks open, "Hello," Lily sang. She takes a step inside, revealing her tan five-inch heels and short purple dress exposing her slim pale legs. Beautiful bouncy curls at the tip of the blonde hair on her head, light makeup applied on her face, enhancing her stunning emerald eyes.

My eyes went back towards myself in the mirror. The woman lifted the veil and positioned it on my head along with a small diamond crown. "Done," she said, leading me to the long mirror.

I stare at myself, chewing on my lower lips, mind entranced by its beauty. It's a one-of-a-kind eye-catching long slim white wedding dress that attaches to my skin until the mid-hip and then widens gradually at the hems. The neckline is a strapless sweetheart, complemented by a diamond necklace. The back is exposed, small flower sewn at the bottom with shimmery diamonds embedded. I joked about the diamonds, but he took it literally and told someone to put it there. Right, I am wearing a dress that costs more than the restaurant I used to work in.

"Beautiful," the lady said softly.

I smile, "Grazie," I respond.

She kisses me on both cheeks before leaving.

I went back to the mirror and resumed my stare. Anthony wasn't joking when he said he wanted the wedding in a week; no, I don't think the man knows the existence of the word joke.

I remember the day when I woke up, wonderfully in Anthony's arms, a group of wedding planners arrived asking me a billion questions about how I wanted the wedding to be. I'm glad Lily was there to fend them off, to give me a pleasant three-hour lecture about sneaking into bed with Anthony. Anthony told me he wanted to provide me with my dream wedding, which mind-wrecked me because I thought this was a contract marriage. I'm marrying him for luxury, which, in a way, makes me a gold digger.

Lily came up behind me, brushing an unruly hair out of my face, exposing the lustrous diamond earrings. "It's not too late to turn back now," she said, teary eyes looking at me.

I shook my head, "It's too late to run away now," I said, and she bit her lips, trying not to cry. This past week, that's all Lily did cry. She felt guilty. She thinks all her fault that I'm marrying someone to make our lives more comfortable.

"I-I'm so sorry." She covered her face to hold back the cry.

I pull her in for an embracement. "Don't cry, you're ruining your makeup, and I will not have an ugly maid of honor."

Someone knocks on the door. "Come in."

"Miss Chisai. It is time," he said.

"Thank you," I responded.

He bows and then walks out.

Lily wiped off her tears and took a sniff. "Let's go, your husband is waiting," she chuckles out unamusingly, biting her lower lips.

When Lily left, I turned back to the mirror and inhaled a deep breath, feeling my chest tightening. "Mom, Dad, Ma, and Pa. I'm getting married. I'm going to become Mrs.Winston today. I wish you were all here," I whispered.

I inhaled a sharp breath.

"Don't worry, Anthony isn't that bad. He is actually a very good man. I'm not quite sure why he wants to marry me when he could have a model as a wife. I know what you all would say, Angelica Chisai, you are beautiful, that man doesn't deserve you, but to be honest, I feel like I don't deserve him. He is this weird, mysterious man who popped into my life and asked me to marry him. How bizarre is that!" I start laughing as the tears drip down.

"Yet, he can provide everything we need and more. He is sweet, gentle, and kind to me for some inexplicable reason," I trail off. "And it makes my heart beat."

I shake my head, knocking the picture of Anthony out. "When you guys left us and went to heaven, things got terrible. Lily and I almost lost our brothers, and I don't want them to cry like that night ever again. I tried, I really did try my best, but it was getting too hard, and when I found out what Lily had to do for us. I couldn't," I started choking on my own words. "I couldn't let her continue doing that."

I inhale a shaky breath and look at myself in the mirror. "I don't regret doing this. I don't care what others call me as long as my family is happy."

After some time, I wipe off the tears and grab the garter. The beating of my heart intensified when I realized Anthony would be the one taking it off. Shaking off the anxious feeling, I slip it on, feeling it shafting between my thighs. I grab the gorgeous white heels and slip them on. Taking the orchids on the makeup counter, I analyze its lovely white pedals, and with a deep breath, I walk out, seeing a few men waiting to escort me.

The bell rang, striking twelve while I stood in front of the large church door. The door spreads open, and I can hear a mandolin singing softly in the background, indicating it is time for me to enter.

Lifting my eyes, I saw Anthony standing at the end of the aisle, hands clutching together in front of him. He's in a clean black suit; rich hair slicked back cleanly. My eyes met his; they were profound and catastrophic, a vivid electric blue causing the beating inside my chest to refuse to stop. He looks exorbitantly devilishly handsome, perhaps - no - is the most attractive man I've ever laid my eyes on, and this man is about to become my husband.

Slowly, I take a step forward, closer to him. Our eyes refuse to remove themselves as I decrease our distance. My hands clenched tightly onto the bouquet, hoping it would conceal the beating inside my chest:

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

When I reached the end, I couldn't stop staring at Anthony as the corner of his lips curled up into a genuine smile, warming up my heart. It's breathtaking. The pope began speaking, but the words refused to enter my ears as I got lost in his beautiful orbs.

Anthony said his vows smoothly and gracefully, trapping me in a trance. Then it arrives: "Anthony Maranzano Winston."

When Anthony told me that he had two last names, it freaked me out. It turns out his real last name was Maranzano, which explains the giant letter M at the front gate, but he used Winston, which is his father's last name, to do his usual business, which sounds very sketchy to me.

I clutch onto the flowers tighter as the pope continues speaking and then turns towards me.

When I looked back at Anthony, his lips were pursed together, grip tightening as he was staring at me, waiting for my answer.

My trembling lips part and the words somehow stumble out.

Anthony hired private tutors to teach Lily, the boys, and me how to talk, write, and read in Italian since we will spend a very long time here in Italy. Unfortunately, he also only gave me a week to learn the wedding vow in Italian. My tutor said I spoke very well, without including much of my American accent, but I felt like she was being nice.

The warmth of my chest increases as he smiles once more, nodding proudly of the vow. The pope continues talking, and I stand there, unable to understand a single word since it's all in Italian.

Anthony gracefully lifted my left hand, sliding a silver diamond ring onto my finger. Trembling hands, I grab the other ring, slipping it on his stiff slim finger, and he holds my hand, refusing to let me go. "I now pronounce you husband and wife," the pope said, and everyone started clapping.

Anthony pulled me inward, hitting his chest, causing the flower to drop. "Hello, Mrs. Maranzano," he whispers, tangling our left hands.

Slowly, he tilted his head, and I went on my toes, closening our distance. I closed my eyes, and our lips met, short but sweet, causing a smile to make its appearance on both of our faces.

As of today, I am a married woman, the wife of Anthony Maranzano.

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