“I do,” Mateo answers, nodding his head once.
The officiant nods and I turn to Mateo so he can lift my veil, placing a kiss on each of my cheeks. I lean forward and give him an impulsive hug, too, then I lift my dress and step up on the altar. Sal offers his hand. I take it and turn back to hand my bouquet to Mia. She’s flushed and teary as she takes it. I always thought crying at weddings was a bit silly, but now I get it. This shit is intense.
Now I turn back to Sal and take both of his hands.
“Hi,” he whispers.
I can’t stop grinning. “Hi.”
My ability to focus is somehow shot and the moment passes by in the blink of an eye. Before I can even process everything I’m feeling and calm down, it’s time to say our vows. My nerves take another hit and I feel awkwardly happy as Sal repeats his. My voice shakes a little as I repeat mine. There’s a new ring on my finger, a new ending to my name, a new family I’m now a part of. The officiant tells Sal he may kiss his bride and Sal wastes no time complying, pulling me into his arms and dipping me as he leans down to kiss me.
I’m so happy my stomach hurts. I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do, but Sal subtly nods at Mia and I remember to take my bouquet back. He raises our entwined hands and grins over at me like he’s the victor.
I’m the victor here, but I’ll let him imagine it’s him.
Everyone is standing and applauding. It’s the first time my gaze has even made it to the guests, but I’ve already missed my chance. Now it’s time to walk down the aisle with my new husband.
I’m drowning in joy as Sal and I head down the petal-covered aisle together. We began this hopeless journey a Morelli and a Castellanos, two people whose families would never allow us to be together. Now I stand here holding his hand, wearing his mother’s passed-down earrings, given the blessing of my brother. I know this hasn’t come cheap for Salvatore, I know he’s made unimaginable sacrifices to get us here, but I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life expressing my infinite gratitude.
After years living life like somebody’s afterthought, today I got to marry an amazing man who would do absolutely anything for me. If that’s not a happy ending, I don’t know what is.
—
“You look absolutely incredible.”
Sal and I are dancing to the song that played in New York, when we were at the bar after he took me to the ballet. The ballroom is darkened, glowing with blue uplighting throughout the room. We’re the only two on the dance floor right now. Next we’ll dance with our bridal party, then the floor will open up to everyone else. I suppose we’ll have to start making our rounds to visit guests. I just want to stay here in his arms forever.
“You look pretty dashing yourself,” I inform him.
“I’ve decided we should get married at least once a year,” he states.
I grin at him, raising my eyebrows playfully. “It’s like you like me or something.”
“Maybe a little bit,” he verifies.
“We’re already going on a honeymoon every year, now a wedding on top of it. We’re never going to have time to procreate.”
“We’ll pencil it in a few anniversaries from now and practice a lot until then.”
I nod my approval. “That works for me.”
“Next year we should have a beach wedding,” he announces. “I wanna marry you in a bikini.”
“You’re gonna wear a bikini? Well, okay, I guess I did say for better or worse.”
Sal gives me a retaliatory squeeze on the side and I laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Just for that, we’re going to have an Entourage themed wedding the year after that.”
“Oh, yeah? How does that work? Do you just glue boxes of douche to your tux and have your groomsmen dress like thugs?”
“You’re ruthless,” he informs me.
“No way, I’m as sweet as a cupcake. We should have a dessert themed wedding year four. You can wear a tux sewn from cupcake print fabric.”
“I don’t think even I can pull that off.”
“If you can pull of the bikini in our beach wedding, you can definitely pull off a cupcake tux.”
Before we can plan any additional weddings, our song ends. We remain on the dance floor, but the DJ invites the rest of the bridal party to come dance, too. Since we decided to forego a ring bearer, Isabella doesn’t have anyone to dance with, but Mateo brings her out and apparently he’s going to dance with her himself. I wave down the photographer, pointing to make sure she gets me a picture of that.