Amo took her hand and kissed her fingers. “You’ve never liked to be the center of attention, vita mia. That is why you have these nerves, not because you are having second thoughts. You would marry Taviano a hundred times.”
She would. She knew she would. More. He would always be her choice. She nodded. “You’re so right. I love him more than life itself.”
“I feel that way about Lucia. I always have, and nothing has ever happened through the years to make me feel any differently.” Amo guided her hand and put her fingers in the crook of his arm. “Always remember, this is your marriage. Your partnership. No one else knows what is between you. Keep that sacred and have each other’s backs at all times. Put each other first, and I promise you, Nicoletta, if you both do that, you will have what Lucia and I have had, and it is good.”
Throughout her time living under Amo’s roof, when he imparted advice, it was always in the simplest of terms, and yet upon examination, she had continuously found his guidance to be profound. “Thank you. I’ll remember. You look very handsome in your suit. I forgot to tell Lucia how elegant and beautiful she looks.”
“The Ferraro boys didn’t forget,” Amo said, with mock annoyance. “They try to steal her out from under me.”
Nicoletta laughed. “You always say that. I love that you do. You make her smile no matter what she’s thinking about at the time.”
“A sense of humor is always of the utmost importance in a marriage.”
She knew that it was. She’d seen Amo turn the worst situations around with his wonderfully timed humor.
“Before we join the others, I just want to say one more thing, my beautiful girl. I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter. I know you would have preferred a quiet little wedding, without the photographer underfoot and all the many guests, but this big affair was Lucia’s dream for our daughter. You’ve become that for us—our daughter. She needed this dream to be fulfilled.”
“I know she did,” Nicoletta agreed quietly. She had known.
Lucia would have never voiced a single objection had Nicoletta held up her ring and stated she wasn’t going through a huge church wedding just to satisfy the curious masses. Lucia, more than once, had talked to her about the wedding she had dreamt of for her daughter. Choosing the dress together, the cake and bouquet, jewelry, all the planning. It was extremely important to Lucia, and therefore, it became important to Nicoletta. She could take being in the glow of that hot spotlight for a few hours for her foster mother.
“Thank you,” Amo said simply.
“I love you both very much,” Nicoletta said.
Before Amo could reply, Grace pushed open the door, and at once they could hear the music signaling that the bridesmaids were to begin their walk down the aisle. She would have had Mariko stand up for her, and Taviano would have had Stefano, but since Lucia wanted a large wedding, there were several bridesmaids.
Emmanuelle, Sasha and Grace were escorted down the aisle by Elie, Giovanni, and Vittorio. They looked elegant as only the Ferraros could, dressed in their suits and the long silk dresses. Following them were Pia, Bianca and Clariss, escorted by Ricco, Enzo and Demetrio. Bianca, especially, looked ecstatic. Enzo looked pretty happy as well.
Nicoletta tightened her fingers on Amo’s arm as Mariko turned her head to look at her, sent her a serene smile and then started down the aisle.
Her heart began to beat wildly. Amo patted her hand, and then they were walking through the double doors following Mariko. The entire church was filled with people, all on their feet. She didn’t see anyone. She was looking down that long white strip leading to the man standing at the end of it.
Taviano was in a dark suit with the thinnest of stripes. He was so handsome he took her breath away, but then he always did. Mariko moved to one side, and Nicoletta had a clear vision of Stefano standing beside Taviano, but it was really only Taviano that she saw. His eyes were on her. There was that look on his face, and she knew she had a matching one on hers. Love. Adoration. Taviano was her everything, and she was his.
She felt the weight of the three generations of Italian gold bangles on her arm, proclaiming the love between the man and wife exchanging vows. She had that. She had that man, that family. It didn’t matter how difficult some of her trials and issues were and would be for the rest of her life, or the scars both Taviano and she bore, they had this amazing love and family to see them through.
Amo kissed both of her cheeks and put her hand in Taviano’s. He closed his fingers firmly around hers as he stepped up beside her. Their eyes met, and she let herself get lost in his gaze, safe there through the ceremony that joined them together in front of their family and friends.