Honestly, it did. A night apart from the controlling oppression of my family and total apathy of hers. We were talking about our plans for the future, our hopes and dreams and fears. We swam way too deep, in over our heads, but craved the exhilaration and danger and freedom.
“You turned too quickly,” I whisper, reliving that night like I have, over and over and over again. Both of us could’ve endangered our lives in so many ways—between the friends her father’s kept and the dangers that lurked at my door—but no, we were two stupid teens who made a reckless choice. “I can still see the way you hit your head on the steel beam.”
I didn’t know humans could sink like lead, under the right circumstances. I remember pulling her up to breathe, swimming with her tucked under my arm, dragging her onto the pine-needled ground and performing CPR.
“Was the first time I ever kissed a girl, and don’t even remember it,” Angelina says with a smile.
I jokingly smack her arm.
She sobers. “I would’ve died that night if not for you.”
I sigh. “You gave up everything for me because I saved your life. And it was my fault that you almost lost it. I hardly think we’re playing quid pro quo here.”
“Babe,” she says softly. “Don’t look at what I gave up. Look at what I gained.”
She kisses the fuzzy top of her baby’s head and twirls the diamond wedding band on her finger. “I have a family now. A real family. A husband who adores me. And you, my best friend, will become my sister.” Her eyes shine.
“I know,” I whisper. “And all because I saved your life, because you were a dumb teen who didn’t know better than to swim out by the quarry drunk and alone?”
“Did you, now? Both of you? Went to the quarry and got drunk?”
I hear Tavi’s deep voice and immediately throw my hands over my gown to block him from seeing me. The door to the room creaks open, but I’m still hidden behind it on the other side.
“Ottavio Rossi, don’t you dare! I’m in my wedding dress!”
Angelina leaps to her feet and holds the baby with one hand and tries to shove me behind her with the other.
Tavi sighs heavily but doesn’t walk in any further. “I bought the dress. Can’t I see it?” Oh that voice. I’m ready to hand over my panties and he’s only teasing me from the doorway.
“Not now. Tomorrow! Oh my God, don’t you make me call Nonna and your Mama on you!”
“Oof. Playing hardball, baby. Don’t tell me you believe those stupid superstitions?”
“Of course I do!”
I could write a book about Italian wedding traditions. We’ve got enough going against us, the last thing we need to do is test the anger of the gods.
Rain on the day of the wedding means good luck. He’s not supposed to see me or the dress before the ceremony, we’re not supposed to buy our wedding rings at the same time, and we cannot arrive in the same manner or time to the wedding.
“Oh for the love of–”
Angelina comes to my aid. “I’m her matron of honor, Mr. Rossi, and I will make sure you do not break those traditions if it kills me!”
“Fine,” Tavi says in a tight voice through the door. “I’ll leave, under one condition.”
“Yes?” I say.
“You don’t ever call me Mr. Rossi again, Angelina!”
She grins at me and winks. She isn’t his, so she gets a little bit more freedom than I do. I wink back.
“Elise?”
“Yes?” I walk to the door and stand on the other side of it, my head pressed against the wall. I like the sound of his voice.
“Be careful tonight, baby. I’ll be checking on you. And if anything threatens or scares you at all, fuck traditions, I’m coming. You get me?”
From the corner of my eye, I see Angelina give me a smug smile.
“Yes,” I say softly. “I get you.” Not just in this, but I like to think in more ways than one. At least I’ve begun to understand this man. Whereas others might feel they know their partner when they’re about to walk down the aisle, I feel like it’s something he and I have just begun.
So we do things a little backwards here.
“I hear you’re going to the store?” Tavi asks. “Before dinner?”
“Mhm. Are you just making small talk at this point?”
He sighs. “Maybe.” Another pause. “I miss you.”
I reach my hand to the door and place it palm down. “Put your hand on the door. My hand’s palm-down on the other side.”
“Done.”
I close my eyes and imagine I can feel his hand through the door. Tomorrow, when we see each other, we’ll be joined together. It feels symbolic.
“Be good.” His parting words.
Angelina’s making gagging motions when I turn to see her. I roll my eyes and grin.