Page 144 of Fix You

After shooting me one last look of disgust, Edoardo slid his gun back in his jacket pocket. Nodding his head at the priest, he instructed, “All right. Marry them.”

As I exchanged places with Leandro, I clapped his back. “I’ll never forget this, brother.”

With a wink, he replied, “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

The priest then restarted the service. Some of the people who’d run out with the gunfire came back in. After saying their vows and exchanging rings, Leo became a married man, and Drea Caruso became Drea Neretti just with a different husband.

As soon as the couple walked down the aisle and into the sunshine, I made my way through the crowd to find Kellan. He didn’t appear too surprised to see me hunting him.

When I cocked my brows at him, he replied, “She’s at the Sacred Heart.”

I sucked in a harsh breath. “Where Caterina was?”

He nodded. “I wanted somewhere no one would think to look for her.”

“She’s not…taking vows or something, is she?”

With a roll of his eyes, Kellan replied, “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s volunteering with the mission, doing some online classes, and trying to find herself–those were her words, not mine.”

I clapped his back. “Thank you for telling me. I could’ve gotten Gianni on it, but it would’ve taken time.”

“You’re welcome.” The corners of his lips quirked up. “Now go get on a plane and bring our girl back home.”

“With pleasure.”

Chapter Thirty-One: Maeve

As the sun’s rays came through the mission’s centuries old windows, I tried to will myself out of bed. It was almost noon, yet I found myself still tangled in my sheets.

I hadn’t been in bed past sunrise since I’d arrived at the Sacred Heart mission three weeks ago. Normally I rose with the sisters and made the walk with them to the church for morning prayers. But this morning I found myself weighed down by sadness and suffering.

Today was Rafe’s wedding day.

With my chest clenching in agony, I turned over and buried my head in my pillow. Just when I thought I didn’t have anytears left to shed, they once again streamed down my cheeks and dripped onto the pillowcase.

When I ran away, I’d wanted to disappear somewhere Rafe wouldn’t think to look for me. Or I suppose I should say where he wouldn’t have Gianni track my digital footprint.

I also didn’t want to go anywhere I would have to see couples in love or happy families. I couldn’t bear the daily reminders of what I didn’t have and perhaps never would.

Just as I had before, I’d gone to Kellan to help me disappear. After the original safe house in Catania, he’d worked it out for me to stay at the Sacred Heart–the missionary religious order that Caterina had been a part of before Callum kidnapped her into marriage.

Considering the state of my love life, I had honestly debated joining up with the sisters. The vows of obedience and poverty would be a piece of cake, and in my present sexless state, I didn’t think the vow of chastity was looking too bad either.

But in the end, I knew my heart would never truly be a nun.

So, I’d spent the last few weeks doing my coursework online. I earned my keep by cleaning the church attached to the mission as well as working in the food pantry. I also volunteered my services to do the bookkeeping for the food outreach program.

Of course, I couldn’t convince Sister Antonia, the Mother Superior, to allow me to integrate a computer for the record keeping. Instead, she wanted to keep the pen and paper method that had been in use for hundreds of years. Sometimes it truly felt like she was as old as the 1800’s building that housed the Sacred Heart.

I managed to keep myself busy during the day, but the nights were pure hell. My thoughts were always with Rafe and the life we could’ve had together. When my emotions got the better of me, I’d sneak in a bottle of wine from the local village and drink my sorrows away.

Last night, I’d downed a bottle and a half after making the mistake of googling Rafe’s name and seeing his and Drea’s rehearsal dinner pictures splashed across Page Six. Being hungover was also keeping me in bed.

A knock came at my door. “Yes?” I called.

Sister Lucia poked her head in the door. She was only in her thirties and much friendlier than Sister Antonia.

At the sight of me disheveled in bed, she frowned. “Are you all right, my dear?”

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