Page 6 of Angel's Whisper

When Isotta’s feet came to rest in front of her father, she was surprised that he immediately hugged her as he meant it, as though they wouldn’t have another moment like the one they were having. Isotta relished that special moment she had with her father. She felt sad knowing that she would no longer be under her father’s protective covering. Isotta felt sad that her father was no longer the person she could look up to for advice. Francesco had to break away, or his heart would break in two. He had to remember the big picture, but it still saddened him. With Isotta positioned on his arm, they made their way to the double-door entrance. They both took deep breaths, each for their own reasons. And when the heavy wooden doors were pulled open, each one felt nervous, but they both knew they had to be strong. Francesco felt sad the closer he got to having to give his child away. He denied the weight of the decision they made on her behalf until that very moment. And after taking another deep breath, Francesco felt resolute. It had to be done for the sake of the family. It was all about the family.

Isotta was overwhelmed by the sight of all those people looking at her, faking like they were happy for her. She didn’t know them. They were associates of her grandmother and father. The men were there for business. The women were there for the fashion. Isotta knew she needed to be resolute, but she was terrified – afraid to be away from her family, afraid of what this new life had to offer with a stranger, afraid of what he expected from her, afraid of him.

She couldn’t see him when she first started walking down the long aisle. Isotta was distracted by onlookers trying to see and not see him. Isotta wondered what he was thinking. Was he nervous, afraid, excited? Was he committing to her begrudgingly? Did he want her for a wife?

A wife…

Did he want her for his wife?

There were so many people lining the aisle it was difficult for Isotta to see her affianced. Was he looking for her? Did he want to see her as badly as she thought she wanted to see him?

And then Isotta felt a warming sensation move through her. And then her eyes found his eyes fixed on her.

She froze internally, and her feet faltered, causing her to stutter step. Isotta hoped that her misstep wasn’t noticeable under the hoops and layers of lily-white damask fabric she wore. Even at a distance, Massimo’s gaze was discombobulating. Isotta felt like she felt when she looked at him in the mirror. His dashing good looks did not disguise the steadiness of his gaze. And then, as she neared, he dropped his gaze from her, choosing to look past her instead of at her.

“Who gives this woman to be lawfully wed?”

The priest’s question made everything all too real.

“I do,” Francesco replied. It struck him that this was the last time he would be kissing Isotta Conti. This was the last time she would be Isotta Conti.

Francesco lifted her veil and kissed her lovingly on the forehead. His eyes misted, but he held it together, lowering her veil and then relinquishing his daughter to the groom after shaking his hand. When they shook hands, Francesco firmly shook, eying Massimo, who didn’t back down. Isotta’s eyes darted between both men and then came to rest on her father. He relinquished.

Massimo eyed Francesco until he returned to his seat. Then, Massimo turned his full attention to Isotta. She shakily took his arm and moved toward the altar.

Chapter Four

She scarcely paid attention to the beautiful ambiance of the cathedral, the white damask silk drape that covered the ceiling, the Swarovski crystal chandeliers that adorned the ceiling, the bouquets of white roses that lined the aisles, or the long white runner adorned with white rose petals that she walked upon. Her eyes were focused on her soon-to-be husband. Just thinking those words was enough to make Isotta’s heart hurt. She found it increasingly difficult to catch her breath as they stood next to each other in front of the high polished gold arch and the priest. Massimo released her hand and focused his full attention on the minister. Isotta did the same. She still found it difficult to believe that she was actually standing next to the man she was destined to marry.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God and in the face of family and friends to join together this man, Massimo Massimodore Ricci, and this woman, Isotta Maria Conti, in holy matrimony which is commanded to be honorable among all men and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly,” the minister began. His voice was full and carried throughout the cathedral.

“Into this holy estate, these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

There was a certain amount of tension in the room behind the priest’s words. He paused, as was tradition, but the pause felt elongated. Isotta thought for a moment that her father would rescue her, that he would realize the error of his ways and step in to save her. She also thought about saving herself. But she didn’t, and when no one else spoke out, objecting to the travesty that was about to take place, Isotta stood silent.

“Marriage is the union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind. It is intended for their mutual joy and for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity. But more importantly, it is a means through which a stable and loving environment may be attained. Through marriage, Massimo and Isotta make a commitment together to face their disappointments, embrace their dreams, realize their hopes, and accept each other's failures. Massimo and Isotta will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together through mutual understanding, as this is the beginning and a continuation of their growth as individuals. With mutual care, respect, responsibility, and knowledge comes the affirmation of each one's own life, happiness, growth, and freedom. With respect for individual boundaries comes the freedom to love unconditionally by gathering together all the wishes of happiness and our fondest hopes for Massimo and Isotta from all present here. We assure them that our hearts are in tune with theirs.”

The priest instructed Massimo and Isotta to hold hands. He reached for her, momentarily looking at her, expecting that she would lay her hands in his. When she did, Massimo returned his attention to the priest. Isotta did the same.

“Do you, Massimo, take Isotta to be your wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?

Massimo looked at her, and their eyes connected. Isotta slowly lifted her eyes to meet his.

“I do.”

And then he looked away. It was rote, automatic. There was no real feeling there, Isotta thought. But what did she expect? He was as new to this arrangement as she was. He was acting out of obligation, nothing more. She shouldn’t expect anything more than that.

“Do you, Isotta, take Massimo to be your husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your hearts deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?

The room fell silent, so silent one could actually hear a pin drop. Isotta knew everyone expected her to say yes. There was a part of her that wanted to run away, to say no. Isotta felt all eyes on her in deafening silence as they awaited her reply. It wasn’t a foregone conclusion that she would say yes. Her mother, grandmother, father, and parents all waited with bated breath. And then Massimo’s eyes found hers again. He searched hers. They bore into hers. Was she willing to submit, or was she?

There was a fight between her head and her heart, her soul and her head, her soul and her heart. She had a duty to perform.

“I do,” Isotta whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Even after saying the words, Isotta still didn’t believe she’d agreed to it. But she had agreed, and there was an audible sigh heard from her side of the aisle. Content with her submission, Massimo returned his eyes to the priest. She went through the rest of the ceremony on automatic pilot.

“What token do you offer? Would you place the rings in my hand?” The priest asked.

Isotta pulled the ring from a small hidden pocket in her dress. Massimo reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he had for her. Not that he picked it himself. Picking it was his mother’s doing. They each handed their rings to the priest, who continued.

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