Page 13 of Koroleva

The brown curls of the children fell over their beautiful organza dresses. Their smiling faces set off to make their entrance down the white carpet.

My future father-in-law patted my hand. I hadn't realized I was gripping his arm tightly. I tried to relax.

Massimo called out to someone. I saw the silhouette of a child, the same one I had noticed sitting off to the side next to the ring pillow.

"Adriano, vai," my future father-in-law urged. I couldn't see very well with so many layers of tulle in front of my eyes; I should have asked for a less dense veil. Still, I saw the gesture; the little boy lifted his chin and I felt his scrutinizing gaze on me.

He turned briskly and followed behind the girls.

"Scusa, he still has to get used to the idea that his father is getting married." The impact of that statement was like what the dinosaurs must have felt when the meteorite hit the Earth.

I blinked several times under the veil.

"What? How?" I swallowed hard.

"Didn't I tell you? Sorry, sometimes there are details I forget. I have a grandson, let's just say it's a recent development, I hope you don't mind, you look like you like children." «"Of course, at someone else's house, » I thought. "My son will fill you in, don't worry. The time has come. Are you ready?" My legs felt like jelly.

A child! A child! That was not in the contract, nor in my plans! I felt like screaming at him.

Massimo patted my hand again and started walking before I could utter the stuck reproaches in my throat. I felt bile rising and falling at the same pace as we descended the steps. As clear as the day was, I still couldn't see well through the layers of tulle. I should have tried on the veil beforehand, though perhaps it was better this way. Not seeing clearly wrapped me in a sort of bubble, camouflaging the expression on my face, which was not that of a happy bride.

I focused on not tumbling down the stairs while my future father-in-law acted as a guide dog.

There were many eyes on me, specifically four hundred and sixty. Ten belonged to my sisters and my men; the rest to the Capuletos, their family, and friends. I wanted something discreet, but Massimo said his firstborn wasn't getting married every day and that he would foot the bill for the wedding.

I couldn't even concentrate on the notes floating above our heads, the contained "ohs" at seeing the design, or the compliments on the sparkle it emitted.

The only thing I could clearly hear was the frantic rhythm of the heartbeats threatening to thrust my heart through my neckline.

The petal-laden path came to an end, as did the movement of our feet. We had just stepped onto the altar, and Massimo positioned himself in front of me, blocking any view I might have of my future husband.

I bit my lower lip and prayed he wasn't cross-eyed. I don't know why I thought of such a thing, but I did. I had envisioned a thousand faces for my enemy, and I was sure that none would resemble the man behind my future father-in-law.

The absolute silence fell as the lower part of the veil was lifted.

Was it moving slower than usual, or was it just me seeing everything in slow motion?

I squeezed my eyes shut as the veil reached my nose. I was so agitated I thought I might faint at any moment, and I had never fainted outright. Although, of course, I had never been married either.

I felt the heat of the sun on my face and two kisses again claimed my cheeks before Massimo stepped away to leave me alone with his son. I carefully parted my eyelids, and upon focusing, I almost burst into laughter.

My wicked mind had given my future husband the face of the biker I'd been with hours earlier!

I closed and opened my eyes several times, but his face remained there, serious, lacking the sparkle it had last night. It couldn't be, my mother hadn't let me have more vodka.

The one getting cross-eyed was me from staring at him so much, until I realized I couldn't see any face but his. God, he really had affected me!

I raised my right hand and slapped myself so hard that the sound echoed through the amphitheater, followed by the surprised gasps of the guests at what I had just done. I hoped they would think it was a Russian custom and not a blatant need to snap out of seeing the guy I'd slept with the night before my wedding.

My cheek burned; I hadn't been gentle. R Capuleto gave me a toothless smile and turned his face to the crowd.

"Relax, everyone, it's nothing, my future wife just can't believe this isn't a dream. She's very excited that I've shown up." «The idiot! »

Laughter rippled through the crowd. When he turned back to me, his expression was stone-cold.

"You!" I muttered. I was about to deliver the same punishment to him, or worse.

"Hello, cupcake, I almost didn't recognize you with all your clothes on, thought you were a meringue topped with glitter instead of the bride." He looked me up and down with disdain.

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