Page 23 of His Vow
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I just want you to be sure you know what you’re doing.”
With a nod, I look down at the glass in my hand. It’s not steady at all.
Am I doing the right thing, marrying Ant?I hope so. And I lift the glass to my lips, sipping the rest this time.
***
A secret Vegas wedding still feels sad, even with the Bellagio fountain as a backdrop. It’s a beautiful setting, but the balcony with the traditional Italian-style balustrade only makes me wish for the real thing. I should have finished the bottle of champagne with Rose; then I wouldn’t be having to fight back the urge to burst into tears.
With a nudge and a nod from Gio, Antonio turns to where I’m hovering inside the doors that lead out to the terrace. He puffs out a breath and his whole body loosens.
In a few long strides, he’s in front of me and taking my hand in his. He dips, brushing his lips against my cheek. “Gorgeous,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
My breath catches.If only this was real. But I’m not foolish enough to be carried away on the romance of the moment. Straightening up again, he hands me a pure white rose. Not yellow like he sends me every year on my birthday, but white. My brow lifts.
“To our new beginning,” he says, and his mouth stretches into a warm smile.
I squeeze his hand back. “I like the sound of that.” My fear of losing my friend floats away on the soft melody of the music piped out of a nearby speaker. I’m not losing him; we’re merely starting something new together.
“Are you ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
His smile widens as, hand in hand, we walk toward the celebrant, his brothers, and Rose, who are all waiting for us.
Chapter nine
Antonio
“Ibelieve you wanted to say a few words,” the celebrant says, looking directly at me.
Lucia’s hand flinches within my tight grasp. I didn’t tell her I prepared personal vows, as that would have added a layer of panic to her obvious nervous demeanor.
As today drew closer, Lucia had become increasingly withdrawn, no longer sharing her thoughts, worries, and dreams. I hate that she’s hiding her feelings and putting this distance between us, whether deliberate or not.
I turn fully to face her so I can hold both of her hands and reduce some of the trembling in her fingers.
“Luce?” I whisper, to lift her gaze to mine, and when our eyes lock, I begin. “Just like when we were kids standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump into the water far below, today I’m asking you to take a very different leap of faith. One that’s probably a lot scarier because it’s hard to know where we’ll land. But just like then, when you trusted me to keep you safe by holding your hand, I promise I won’t let go now.”
My chest squeezes tight as her eyes become watery pools, and I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the lump stuck there. “Before you agree to be my wife, I wanted you to know that I’m right here beside you every step of the way. We’re in this together, and I promise to do my best to never let you down. I’ll be your support when you need lifting. Your safety net when you’re feeling unsteady. And most importantly, your best friend, just like I’ve always been.” Her eyes drop to our joined hands, and I give hers a light squeeze. “I want you to be happy and able to fulfill all of those dreams for the future that you’ve shared with me.”
Her eyes flicker up, and a single tear slips down her pale, flawless cheek as she whispers, “Grazie.”
The celebrant leans forward. “Now you will each make your formal vows.” He turns to me. “Antonio Romeo Barbieri, do you take Lucia Francesca Romano to be your lawfully wedded wife? To protect, respect, and cherish from this day forward? For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?”
“I do.” My response is strong and heartfelt, even if the words we agreed on weeks ago sound hollow without love. I do love my friend, but Lucia insisted this was a fake marriage in every way but legally, and that it would be disrespectful to the institution to pretend otherwise.
The celebrant turns to Lucia, repeating similar words.
“I do,” she whispers, her green eyes filled with more unshed tears, and the breath I was holding releases audibly, though not as loud as Gio’s beside me. I glare at him, while on his other side, Nico coughs out a laugh.
“Excuse me,” Gio mumbles into his hand, before dropping his gaze to the carpet.
Until Lucia said those two little words, it seems I wasn’t the only one who worried she wouldn’t go through with it.
The celebrant continues, “Lucia and Antonio will now exchange rings as a symbol of their commitment to their marriage.”
I fumble in my suit pocket for the ring box, and Lucia’s eyes widen when I pop the lid open. Inside, on a bed of black velvet, sit two eighteen karat gold wedding rings. One is a simple thick band, but it’s the other smaller one that glitters brilliantly, even in the low light. When I saw it, I knew it was the perfect one for Lucia—a large square-cut emerald that sparkles like Lucia’s beautiful eyes and is surrounded by French pave diamonds.
