Page 54 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
‘Yeah, everything’s fine – or it will be.’
She was distracted by Alessandra tearing out a piece of pizza and shoving a third of it into her mouth, collapsing into the rearmost pew with a dramatic sigh. Carla and Mattia shared a conspiratorial smile that punched Kira in the gut.
‘I can’t vouch for the quality of the pizza, but it was the only place open and we had to pass the South Pole on our way,’ Mattia said with a satisfied huff.
‘You’re my hero, Matty,’ Alessandra cooed.
‘Carla too,’ he said affably. Glancing at Kira, he added, ‘I didn’t dare go alone in case someone had to call for a rescue.’
Confused about a message he seemed to be trying to send her with his eyes, she asked, ‘Who would you have called?’
‘You?’ he said hopefully. ‘Are you hungry? Do you want some pizza? I got party size.’
‘Look!’ Alessandra cried all of a sudden. Pointing one manicured nail at the door of the church, she finished chewing and continued, ‘You’re under the mistletoe. You know what that means. Let me get my phone. I want to capture the first mistletoe kiss at my wedding!’
Kira’s stomach sank to her toes. It was unfortunately true: Carla and Mattia stood in the doorway of the church, just beneath the little bunch of bright green leaves with white berries.
They seemed to have bonded over the pizza. Despite what had gone wrong with their relationship, Carla seemed to be a nice person – friendly and a little shy, but that would be perfect for Mattia. They knew each other well, wanted the same things. They made sense together. Surely he would be starting to realise that.
‘Eh…’ His throat bobbed with a swallow. ‘I don’t think?—’
‘If you don’t kiss, then neither of you will get married for the next year. I’m sure I read that somewhere.’
Kira stifled a snort at the weak threat, but Carla looked stricken. She bit her lip and glanced up at Mattia.
Kira gritted her teeth. ‘Oh, just kiss her. As soon as you’ve finished eating, I think we should call Norbert and head back up to the chalet.’ She turned away, fiddling with one of the bows at the end of the pew, hoping they interpreted her behaviour as contemptuous and not ragingly jealous. When she accidentally unravelled the bow, she snatched her hand back.
Behind her, Mattia cleared his throat and there was a muffled ‘hmph’ followed by a deep sigh.
‘That was a poor excuse for a kiss,’ Alessandra grumbled, Kira’s cue to turn back around – to find Mattia’s unnerving gaze on her. ‘But I suppose you have an audience. Are the boys already up at the chalet? I suppose we’re finished here until Ginny brings the mistletoe.’
‘Um, Alessandra…’ Kira trailed off, hesitating over the explanation. Leaning closer to where the bride was looking up expectantly, her second piece of pizza heading towards her mouth, she whispered, ‘Joe’s drunk.’
‘What?’ Mattia bellowed behind her.
Shit, she’d forgotten about his superhuman hearing. Alessandra held up a quelling hand in his direction.
‘Perdio!’ she exclaimed. ‘The day before our wedding! He’s lucky he didn’t break his leg! Or maybe I’ll break it for him!’
‘I don’t know that he—’ Kira sighed heavily. She wasn’t even sure why she was defending him. ‘He might have sobered up by now anyway. They’re in the van in the car park waiting for us.’
Alessandra threw the crust of her pizza slice into the box and meticulously cleaned her fingers, before rising with a long breath through her nose. Stuffing her arms into her enormous, puffy jacket, she lifted her chin and stalked towards the door.
‘I’m going to talk to him,’ Alessandra declared, her voice wavering.
‘If you just wait—’ Kira began, that I’m going to ruin this wedding feeling solidifying inside her again.
‘I’ve had enough of him not taking this seriously. Nobody is forcing him to marry me and if he doesn’t want to, all he has to do is say it!’ She swung open the door, flinching at the howling wind and swirling snowflakes, but she sailed through it and even managed to slam the door as an extra exclamation point.
When Mattia didn’t move, Kira gestured frantically at him. ‘Go after her! It’s a freaking snowstorm out there!’
‘What about you?’
‘I don’t need you to hold my hand while I cross the road,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll help Carla bring this shit back to the van.’
She expected him to hurl back a gritty Fine! and stomp angrily to the door, as people usually did when she pushed them away. But he simply studied her, for long enough that she started to worry he could hear emotions.
‘Go,’ she repeated, but her voice had lost its belligerence and sounded alarmingly like pleading. ‘I’ll call Norbert to pick you all up. He can come back for the rest of us.’
