Page 57 of Bitter Poetry
I can’t breathe.
I can’t see.
It’s like every sense in my body shuts down and then wakes to a thunderclap.
Mine.
And just like that, I know I’m going to do something really stupid.
CARMELA
The music begins, and I’m swept away into an annex where we will sign the register. Dante comes with us. But of course, he does, along with Helena, Ettore’s older brother, and my father. My vision is coming through a tunnel. The dress didn’t feel tight when I first put it on, but now I can barely breathe.
Helena’s laughter is high and bright, and she is leaning all over Dante.
My hand shakes as I sign. I pass the fountain pen to Ettore. One by one, the witnesses add their names to the paper until, finally, it’s Dante’s turn. My eyes are fixed on the blank space left for him. His hand is steady as he writes his signature, the ink sealing my fate.
The white shirt he wears underneath his suit peeps out at the cuff, revealing a distinct splatter of blood. My eyes snap to his, my heart galloping again. If he feels my eyes on him, he doesn’t acknowledge them, already stepping back, straightening out the cuff, taking the blood out of sight. Helena’s laughter grates on my fragile nerves, pulling me back to the now.
Ettore takes my hand.
“Congratulations, Carmela,” my father says beaming.
Something terrible has happened. I plaster on a smile for my father. “Thank you, Papa.”
CHAPTER 19
CARMELA
The wedding celebration unlocks a new nightmare level.
The reception is held in the prestigious Redlands Banquet Hall, which copes admirably with the large number of guests. With high vaulted ceilings and arched windows, it has been decorated throughout for the wedding with flowers and all the trimmings. Archways lead into several smaller reception rooms and bars where guests can mingle before and after the formal meal. In the center is the dance floor, and, to the side of that, a live band.
I always imagined my wedding reception would be in the garden of my home. Over the years many parties have been held there, and I loved every one. That was out of the question with the chaos caused by the huge new car garage Ettore is building. If I’m honest, and with hindsight, I’m glad the reception wasn’t there.
There are well wishes, toasts, and an overabundance of food, which I can only choke down a few bites of. My father makes his speech, announcing Ettore as the new head of the family. In Ettore’s speech, he welcomes the joining of our great families.
In the pauses between, I can hear Helena, only a few seats away, as she fawns all over Dante.
“We would make a good match,”she said.“I told my brother as much.”
I don’t consider myself violent, but I could stab that woman’s eyes out with my fork.
Then comes the songs and dancing.
I dance with my husband, my jaw aching from the effort of maintaining a smile.
Then Ettore dances with Jessica.
Dante dances with Helena.
And by some sick twist of fate, I find myself paired up with Christian. His scent is oddly familiar. His body is solid under his suit. With one arm around my waist and the other hand holding mine, there is nowhere to look but at him. There has always been a pull between us. Meeting his eyes is out of the question, so I find avid interest in his throat. The outline of a tattoo peeks out the collar of his white dress shirt, and my eyes fix on it. I don’t remember seeing it before… then again, I’ve never been stuck this intimately close to him before.
When I glance up, I find him staring down at me with the same eyes he shares with Dante. Only Christian’s are cold. I try telling myself he’s still a boy, but really he’s not. I may be a month older, but the way he handles himself, he might as well be ten years older.
“What happened to Dante?”
I instantly regret the lapse in my mental vigilance.
