Page 133 of Made to Sin

If possible, she was a bigger bridezilla than I was, and I was the actual bride. Apparently, she hired a very expensive makeup artist when I told her there was no budget for this wedding, so itwas considered a crime if my makeup was ruined before the congregation got to see it.

I sniffled in the last of the emotions. “Thanks, Em.”

In the end, she successfully got me into the nickname trend. She said if I didn’t, the friendship wasn’t real. Since I couldn’t afford to lose any friends I had outside of my staff, I conceded.

“Just doing my job as your MoH.” I rolled my eyes at her going overboard, shortening whatever she could. Her grin widened to bug me more. “Now, let me give your hair another spray, and we should be good to go.”

I didn’t need more hairspray, but I let her do it anyway if it made her happy. My hair was loosely curled with a ludicrous amount of pins and hairspray holding the complex braids together. It was a miracle the strands hadn’t fallen off my head from the tortures of beauty.

Following an intense round of coughing from the dramatic fumes, I was ready to walk down the aisle. Anxiety tumbled in my stomach as I hyper-fixated on the ticks of the clock and paced around the room.

Luciano’s cousins started arriving at the bridal suite with their dresses and makeup done at home. My bridesmaids wore green silk gowns while the groomsmen wore green ties with their black suits. I also had green of my own, but that was only for my future husband’s eyes.

Although I was hesitant about the bold color in the beginning, Maria talked me into making it the main theme. I was starting to think it was her favorite color more than because it related to the color of my eyes. She chose it each time there was a vote, and I knew it was because she knew that the emerald long-sleeved dress she wore flattered her.

When I mentioned it, she acted unfazed, saying it was something random from her closet, but I knew she had bought it specifically for my wedding. Reminded of her sacrifices for mesince six years ago, I went over to give her a peck on the cheek. Nobody could replace Mamma, but Maria was the best second mother I could have wished for.

And the other person who stuck by me, Arnold, was the best fill-in father to walk me down the aisle. The man didn’t have kids, but I knew he would have made a wonderful father. He was already a better father than my own.

He knocked a minute later, halting my jittery pacing, and told us it was time to commence the ceremony.

My palms grew clammy, curling into small fists as I looped my arm through his. I’d already done the whole wedding thing once, but it didn’t calm the nerves any more than normal.

We waited by the hall as the bridesmaids took turns pairing up with partnering groomsmen to walk out into the church. My stomach churned to a higher rhythm as each couple left.

Emily was the last one to go, paired with Sylvio, Luciano’s best man. Once they reached the front, the grand pianist cued my turn with her initial loud note.

Merda, merda, merda,this was really happening.

I shouldn’t have let Luciano convince me to do such a public wedding. Love made me blind, and the regret was building.

Arnold squeezed my hand for comfort, and we made our appearance at the church’s doorway. People stood and gasped at my entrance, welcoming the bride with enthusiasm.

I tried to make eye contact and smile with as many of them as I could, but nausea filled my throat. If I kept thinking about the pairs of eyes on me, I was going to send myself into a panic attack.

Suppressing the antsiness coursing through my veins, I focused on my husband-to-be. The sight of him with his charcoal-colored tuxedo, slicked-back hair, and smoothly-shaven jaw was breathtaking. I’d seen him wear multiple attires, tuxedo included, but none of them compared to how he looked when he was standing at the alter waiting for me.

He caught my gaze and winked. The swirls of anxiety were gone as butterflies took their place. Every step I took toward the altar was driven by a visceral force to be closer to him.

Reaching the front, Arnold passed my hand to Luciano, and, like magic, the rest of the nerves disappeared. It was only us at the moment, and everyone else was stardust.

My future husband mouthed, “Stunning,” as we waited for the pastor to recognize our marriage. I flushed red, the compliment making me shy.

Too captivated by him and our silent conversation, I almost missed the most important line at the end.

“I do,” I said, never more sure of anything in my life.

“If nobody has any objections, I officially introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Beneveti. You may kiss your bride.”

Without wasting another second, my husband grabbed me by the waist and slammed his lips on mine. Claps and hoots erupted from the crowd, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

Itthumpedfor the life I lived.

Itthumpedfor the life I escaped.

And, especially, itthumpedfor the life I started.

Moving one hand off his shoulder and onto his chest, I felt a similar rhythm in his. Warmth spread through my body as I realized our hearts beat for one another. Maybe theCosa Nostradid have its happily-ever-afters in the end because he surely was mine.

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