I nodded quickly before my courage could leave me.
Dad held out his arm and we headed toward the wide double doors. The moment we stepped through them, I held my head high and smiled coolly. The nervousness I’d expected didn’t come. No jittery or fluttering belly. I was calm, almost eerily so. I felt detached, as if it wasn’t me about to marry.
Surprise flashed on many people’s face at my choice of dress. It wasn’t the classic piece many had expected. Mrs. Clark looked positively offended as if a skirt-line ending above the knee might as well end the world.
I got a strange kick out of it.
Clifford looked posh in his dark suit and smiled mildly. It was impossible to gauge his feelings regarding the dress. He’d not only grown into his tall frame and wasn’t as lanky anymore, he’d also learned to mask his emotions. He wasn’t the quirky boy anymore, but he wasn’t Santino. My eyes searched the church quickly as if Santino might have miraculously woken from his coma and come here. And for what, really? He’d hate every moment of the ceremony and I’d wish every second of it that he’d stop the damn thing.
I shoved those thoughts aside and turned my focus on Clifford when I arrived at the front and Dad handed me over to him. Clifford lightly closed his hand around mine. It felt softer than Santino, not roughened by years of weight training and gun handling. And his touch was unfamiliar. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would be tonight but the thought of actually being intimate with me let me panic briefly and so I shoved it aside as well.
“You look beautiful,” Clifford said appreciatively.
“Thank you. You look good in your suit.”
We turned toward the priest, and I tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling our short exchange had given me. This kind of public pleasantness might very well be the way we’d interact in private too. Maybe I could stand it for a year or two, but eventually I’d explode. I had a temperament that simply couldn’t always be tamed. A fact Santino loved about me.
Clifford glanced my way and I smiled quickly.
Bea carried the cushion with the rings toward us, looking absolutely adorable with her blonde hair in French braids, and in a cute mint-colored dress. The priest fixed me with his old eyes and motioned at the cushion. I picked up the ring.
When Clifford said yes, loud and clear, I tensed, realizing it would be my turn next. I pushed the ring on his finger and cold settled in my bones. I avoided his eyes, not sure I could keep up the lie.
It was my turn and I watched with trepidation as Clifford picked up my ring from the cushion.
The priest nodded then fixed me with his gaze again.
“Will you Anna Cavallaro take Clifford Maximo Clark to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Clifford gave me a smile. It was nice. He was nice. He was also ambitious and intelligent. He was everything I should want. I swallowed. I should say yes.
I glanced at my parents. I loved them so much. I wanted to make them proud, but I also needed to follow my heart. Dad’s expression shifted as if he could see something on my face.
God. This would be the scandal of the year.
But Mom’s eyes anchored me. They were full of understanding. They gave me permission to follow my heart before it was too late.
And then another thought rushed through my head. What if Santino didn’t want me anymore? I’d led him around for so long…
And what if he never woke?
It didn’t matter. I didn’t love Clifford, and I never would. I couldn’t live a life like that.
The priest repeated his question, a hint of impatience tinging his words.
I opened my mouth. “No.”
“She won’t,” Mom said at the same time, her clear voice echoing in the church.
Silence reigned in church. Everyone stared at me and Mom.
I couldn’t believe Mom would have stopped the wedding if I hadn’t said no. Or maybe she’d seen on my face that I was about to say no and wanted to show her support.
A boulder seemed to fall off my shoulders and I couldn’t help but smile, for the first time today, in earnest.
Then my eyes met Clifford’s and guilt crushed down on me. He still held the wedding ring but slowly lowered his hand and then dropped it to his side, balling his hand to a fist.
“I’m sorry, Clifford. So sorry. I should have said something sooner, but I really thought I could go through with marrying you.”
He smiled bitterly. “You make it sound as if I’m a punishment.”
“No! That’s not how I meant it but I’m in love with someone else.”
“Of course. Santino.”
I swallowed. The shocked whispers were picking up around us.