Page 63 of Crowning His Innocent Assistant

CHAPTER TWELVE

THEDAYOFthe wedding dawned bright and clear, and Livia felt as if there was a storm cloud hanging over her head. She was dressed in a gown of the finest satin, a dream for the girl that she’d been, who had thought that she might have nice things one day.

This was beyond nice.

She was swathed in the fabric, which molded perfectly to her form, and billowed out around her feet. There were small, glass beads sewn into a growing cascade from the bodice down all the way to the floor, where it shimmered as if it had been put together with ice crystals.

She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful. Just as she had felt Matteo’s desperation for her last night. But she could not forget what Violet had said to her.

She had nearly told him last night, but she hadn’t the strength. Not when he had kissed her.

She had simply wanted to push everything away and be with him. Because it was better. Because it was easier. Easier than dealing with the sad reality of the situation she found herself in.

Everything. Absolutely everything was right at her fingertips except...

Matteo was breaking apart. She could see it. She could see it in the way that he had behaved last night. And she was not... She was not helping him.

She had given so much credit to the fact that she had healed him in some way, but what she’d said last night remained true.

She clearly had not healed him in any meaningful fashion, or...or he would not be so hard, not still.

But there were things that he refused to see. Things that he refused to accept. And that she could not do for him. However, she had a terrible feeling that she might be part of preventing the healing.

She couldn’t take that final step for him, but she could certainly keep him comfortable enough that he never took the step for himself.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed as his bride. Ready to walk down the aisle toward him. Ready to be everything that she had ever dreamed. His Queen. His wife.

Except his love.

She would never be his love.

And she would never know what it was to be loved. She would just be an assistant who had undergone a very fancy promotion. She would not be the wife of his heart. Not really. Not for so long as he denied even having a heart.

She took a deep breath, and picked up her bouquet. And then she saw the time.

The wedding was about to begin.

The massive chapel on the grounds of the palace was filled to capacity. Everyone inside dressed in finery. Women in hats and dresses that brought to mind an array of Easter eggs, the men in fitted suits.

And Matteo stood at the head of the altar and waited. And waited.

For Livia. Always for Livia.

His heart was like a bruised and battered thing, and had been since she’d told him of her love, and still he was here.

Because he could not imagine a future without her.

A future where you cannot give her the one thing she wants...

He was not strong enough to turn away from her.

That was his failing.

That was his shame.

And so he waited.

The music began, and then changed. But Livia did not appear. And even when he was certain that she had missed her cue, she still did not appear.

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