Keeping his bride

Verona

I STAND IN front of the mirror inside the dress shop and stare at my reflection. I don’t even recognize myself in the wedding dress. I look so…different. So grown up.

“Oh my god, you look gorgeous!” the shop owner exclaims with animated hands. She’s a small, older lady with frizzy blonde hair and huge glasses that make her blue eyes look enormous behind the thick lenses. “I knew this one would look great on you,” she gushes.

Tears fill my eyes when I glance around the empty room. God, I wish my mother could be here with me. After she passed away, an empty void filled me, hollowing me out from the inside, and I wonder if I’ll ever feel unconditional love like that again.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

My father was always a stickler for rules and obedience, but my mother…she was more lenient and understanding. She made me smile, made me laugh. She was like a real-life angel on this earth disguised as a human.

And I miss her terribly, especially today.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry,” the woman says, handing me a wad of tissues out of a nearby box. “Weddings are happy occasions!”

I almost roll my eyes. She’s so oblivious to my situation that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend what I’m going through. This wedding is going to be anything but happy. I’m about to marry a total stranger. Sure, I knew Luca back when we were kids, but we were just that – children. Many years have passed since we’ve spoken or even seen each other. I have no idea what happened to him after puberty. For all I know, he could look like a potbelly pig. And smell like one too.

Cringing, I tell the woman, “Okay, I’ll take this one.” There’s no sense in trying any other dresses on. None of them will ever feel perfect to me since I’m being forced to walk down the aisle instead of doing it of my own free will.

“Are you sure? It’s the first one you tried on. I’m not saying you don’t look stunning, but I have many more styles for you to choose from,” she says while pushing her big glasses up the bridge of her tiny nose.

“I’m sure,” I tell her with a firm nod. It was the first dress that caught my eye, and honestly, I don’t even want to try any others on. It’s not like I’ve been waiting for this day. No, this was sprung on me just a few days ago through a contract that I had to sign. And it felt like signing my life away.

If Papa wouldn’t kill me, I’d buy a black wedding dress to suit my mood and feelings towards this arrangement. But I don’t need him any more distant and angrier with me than he already is. He’s the only family I have left. Love him or leave him. And I guess I’m choosing to love him.

“I don’t think I’ll need to make any alterations,” the woman says as she walks around, feeling the fabric and looking for gaps or flaws. “It’s perfect, really. It fits you like a glove.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter sarcastically.

“Now, it’s been in storage for a few months. I’ll have it steamed and pressed for you. It will be ready in two days. Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” I answer.

“I’ll be right back with some veil options, and then we can look at shoes,” she tells me before disappearing into the backroom.

I stand there, admiring the dress in the mirror. It’s a mermaid style dress full of intricate lace detail with a V neck and low V in the back and a short train. It really is beautiful. I just wish I wasn’t wearing it to a wedding that I want no part of.

“Wow, look at you,” a voice says behind me.

My eyes meet Dante’s in the mirror, and I can’t help but smile. Dante is the one who drove me here. He’s been my best friend since I was eight years old. When I was sent away to boarding school, he stayed behind to work for my father. We stayed connected through letters, and we spoke on the phone almost every night when I was allowed to make calls.

And when I went to live with my great aunt and was back in the same state as him at least, Dante came to visit me every weekend. He never missed a single one.

Dante has been my rock through all of this. Ever since I lost my mother, he has always been the shoulder I’ve cried on. I don’t know what I would do without him. And I hope I never have to find out.

“What do you think?” I ask, turning to face him.

“Bellissima,” he says with a thumbs up and a wink.

Beautiful. Of course Dante would say that. He always knew how to make me feel better about myself.

“Thank you,” I tell him as I turn back to face the mirror. I can’t help but let my gaze linger on Dante a little longer than I should as he walks around the store, his handsome face now serious as he looks for any threats to me. A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks as I check out my best friend secretly in the mirror.

Dante has definitely grown up over the years. Gone is the scrawny kid I remember so well. In his place is a tall, handsome man with dark hair, dark eyes and a kind smile. He filled out well, and working out has definitely paid off. His muscles that I sometimes spy when he wears t-shirts are huge.

When I was a teenager, I used to swear up and down that I would marry him someday. But that was just a fickle dream because, in reality, my father would never allow that. Dante will never be equal or good enough in his eyes, and that hurts. My father has no idea how wonderful Dante truly is. Dante would take care of me. I know he would. Our feelings have never crossed the friendship line into romantic, but I always wondered what would happen.

But now look where I am. Any dreams I had of marrying someone I could actually fall for went right out the window.

The woman comes back, holding several veils in her hands. “Okay, let’s see what you like best out of these,” she says.

She places the first one on my head, and it completes the look. Now I really do look like a bride. And I can’t help the frown that instantly appears on my face.

“Smile, dear,” she says with an exaggerated grin. “Just think about how happy you’ll be on your wedding day.”

The frown deepens, and I wonder if I’ll ever have anything to smile about ever again. In a few days, I’ll be Mrs. Vitale. And that scares the hell out of me.