Page 22 of Till Death Do Us Part

“I’m glad you were honest with him.” She widened her eyes. “And he took it well. Think what Rocco would have said.”

I shook my head. “Rocco would have been furious because it was sex with him I hated.”

“Do you think Aléjandro’s going to expect it anyway?”

“My world of experience is Rocco. With that as my guide, I’d say yes, he’ll expect it.”

“It could be better with him,” she encouraged. “I mean, he seems fitter than Rocco.”

The memory of Aléjandro’s solid body beneath his shirt the night he proposed warmed my circulation. I sighed. “I feel like I’m going to be comparing the two for the rest of my life.”

“That’s normal,” she said. “I mean, it seems normal.”

Standing, I let my hands fall, slapping my thighs. “At least I knew Rocco when we married. I’d known him for as long as I can remember. I don’t know much of anything about Aléjandro.”

“Maybe that’s better,” Giorgia said. “You two can learn about one another. He proposed. That’s a point for him.”

“It is. Rocco never really asked me. The deal was done.”

“Aléjandro knows he’s not marrying a scared virgin.”

My stomach twisted. “No, he’s marrying a terrified nonvirgin.” Walking to the windows that overlooked the ocean side of their house, I glanced down at the terrace, seeing the guests taking their seats. If only I could concentrate on the scene below and block out how awful sex had become. I’d come to dread it. Not only was I never sure when Rocco would demand it, but I had long since stopped being attracted to him, making the act itself painful even when he wasn’t in an abusive mood.

Something caught my eye. “Oh my God, there is a mariachi band down there.”

Giorgia stood and walked to the window. “Oh, if only Uncle Vincent could see this.” Her navy-blue dress was a darker version of mine. Dario had said the wedding would be small. Even so, he agreed to let Giorgia stand up with me. I’d been told Reinaldo would stand with Aléjandro. Giorgia was the closest person I had to a sister. I supposed I could have requested Catalina, but we only knew one another slightly better than I knew my future husband.

“I should have asked Catalina more about a traditional Mexican ceremony.” My stomach twisted. “It can’t be that different, can it?”

Giorgia’s eyes were big. “I don’t know. I will say, your future father-in-law is a little scary.”

Jorge Roríguez.

El Patr?n.

Drug lord.

“Every man here is, and I don’t mean only on the cartel side. At least I’m not as concerned about a famiglia-slash-cartel war as I was at Dario’s wedding.”

The bedroom door opened, and Mom entered. She looked radiant in a dark blue dress. Apparently, a daughter’s wedding was an acceptable excuse for forgoing black attire. Her exemption was on a time clock: black was only spared for last night and today. Mom was enjoying her reprieve. In some ways she looked younger and happier as a widow than she ever had married to my father.

“Are you ready?” Mom asked, before stopping, scanning me from my head to my toes, and smiling. “You’re beautiful, Mia. Aléjandro is a lucky man.” She came closer and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m going to miss having you at home.”

“I’m going to miss you, too,” I said honestly. As much as I didn’t want to move to the mountains after Rocco’s death, sharing our mourning with one another was comforting. I’d originally moved away when I was young and starry-eyed. Coming back as a woman put Mom’s and my relationship into new perspective.

I looked at my cousin. “I’m going to miss Kansas City.” It wasn’t enough that I’d agreed to marry a stranger; I also had to leave the only place I’d ever known, a place with all my friends and family.

Mom pulled back, straightening her shoulders. “Dario is ready.”

Of course, my brother was walking me down the aisle—what aisle there was on the Ruiz terrace. “I was thinking,” I said, feigning excitement. “I made six thousand dollars by selling my old wedding rings. Maybe instead of walking down the aisle, I could call a cab and head to the airport.”

Mom’s lips pursed. “Mia, stop that.”

I shrugged. “It was a plan.”

“Aléjandro would hunt you down,” Giorgia said.

“Not because he loves me. If I ran, his pride would be hurt, and men can’t stand for that to happen.”

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