Aurora looks at her wristwatch, raising an eyebrow. “Okay,so no more suspense; in an hour, the hairdressers and make-up artists will be here!She looks toward Leticia who just nods, still with a smile on her face. “We’ve decided to move to Rome to finish school here!”
“What do you mean? You’ve always wanted to study in London…”
“The reality is that we always wanted to live togetheror in the same city, study what we wanted, and be close to each other; we promised to be together during our university years.” I look at Leticia, feeling confused and overwhelmed; this was certainly not what I expected to hear. I never thought they would do it for me. I should have stopped, but selfishly, nothing in me wants to do it. “Circumstances have changed; you’re getting married, moving thecountry to be with the person you love, but the promise still stands: we always wanted to study in a country other than our own, to get out of our comfort zone, and even though Italy is your home, for us it’s undiscovered territory.”
“You don’t have to do that, I…”
I feel Aurora’s hand squeeze mine. “We want to; it’ll be goodto get to know another country, to live in another country; apart from that, we’re like the three musketeers; it was just sad to be two musketeers; it loses its essence.”
“Thank you. I can’t thank you enough; it will be good to have you around!”
“We’ll never be far away!” I smile and hug them, feeling happiness bubble up inside me.
The warm water runs down my body, and I close my eyes, feeling it relax my muscles. I hear people talking on the other side of the door, and I try to tune out the sound, knowing that they are preparing everything for my big day. I let a smile slip from my lips and feel the nervousness creep over me, the fear that something will happen, that something will spoil this moment, that I’ll wake up and it’ll all be just a dream. I getout of the shower with a bathrobe and make my way to the hairdressers and make-up artists who are already working on family members.
Everyone seems to be rushing around me, with dresses, shoes and jewelry in hand, everything has to be perfect, my mother wouldn’t accept anything less. I look at the mirror, examining my make-up, simple and illuminated, with a simple eyeliner and a little glitter, making my green eyes stand out. My hair is tied up, and a few golden locks fall around my face. I take one of the red lipsticks laid out in front of me and paint my lips with it.
“You look beautiful, honey!” I feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder, and I cover it with my own.
“Thank you!” I look in the mirror again, seeing her looking back at me.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little!” I admit, looking down at my hand, watching the manicurist finish painting my French-style nails. “I’m afraid that something will happen, that it will get out of hand.”
“Nothing will happen; we’ll make sure of that.” I nod and see her smile, and she offers me her hand. I take it and walk to the bedroom, seeing my wedding dress lying on the bed.
I get into my wedding dress with the help of my mother and grandmother. I watch myself in the mirror, feeling my mother tighten the bodice of the dress with the adjusting strings. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my grandmother let a tear fall, and I squeeze her hand, still staring at my image. The dress fits perfectly around my chest and waist, making it look slim, then loosens from that point, creating a slightly voluminous skirt and bringing with it a veil that will drag along the floor following the skirt in dramatic fashion. The off-the-shoulder neckline causes some of the fabric to hang over my arms in a charming way, leaving my shoulders bare. I run my fingers along the diamonddetails on the side of my waist, seeing the flowers created with the stones, with blue diamonds in the center of each flower. I take the simple diamond earrings and put them in my ears, my something borrowed, the earrings my father gave my mother after I was born.
I lower my head a little, letting grandma place the tiara on my hair; it is beautiful, delicate, and harmonious with continuous scrolls, interspersed with stars and trumpet-shaped flowers, a true family heirloom, the tiara that my mother and grandmother also got married with. “You look like a real princess, amore mio!” I smile, hearing her voice, looking at me in the mirror, and trying to hold back the tears. I amhappy with the result.
I look toward the door to see my best friends and siblings standing there, their eyes fixed on me. Aurora and Leticia look like they’re about to cry, and I smile, seeing them in their beautiful light blue silk dresses. My siblings don’t say anything, approaching me slowly until I feel them both hugging me from the side. I feel tears gathering in my eyes, and I look up to stop them coming down.
“You look incredible!” Lorenzo’s voice is low, and he looks at me with a loving smile on his lips. I approach him and straighten his light blue bow tie, making him smile as he sees me repeat the process with Vincenzo.
I walked out of the room and down the stairs, my arms intertwined with my brothers’, seeing my father waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me and seeming thrilled.
“My little princess is getting married!” I smile at his words, feeling a kiss being placed on my forehead. I get into my grandfather’s Rolls-Royce with my father’s help, holding his hand as the car drives off toward the Vatican.
With an escort of ten black SUVs that scream mafia following us. “Are you nervous?”
“A little!”
“Do you want to give up?” His question makes the driver look at us through the rearview mirror, and I look at my father with an annoyed look that makes him laugh.
“Of course not.” He nods, and I’m sure that if my answer were any different, we’d be back home in no time.
As soon as we enter the Vatican, I see the guards, mixed with Camorra soldiers, all dressed in black, standing out from the local guards. The car enters St. Peter’s Square, my hands tremble, and I feel my father’s watchful eye on me. The car stops in front of St. Peter’s Basilica, and I see several black cars parked all over the square; the doors of the Basilica are closed, giving me privacy to put on my veil.
“Is Luca here?” I ask my father, after he helps me out of the car, he lets out a smile and nods.
“At the altar waiting for you.”
I nod slowly, letting Aurora and Leticia put on my veil, and I look back as they spread it out, 15 meters of hand-embroidered cloth, with the image of Virgin Mary engraved on it, in honor to the Camorra oath, my own version of the oath.
I walk to the entrance of the basilica arm in arm with my dad, calmly and in apprehensive steps, afraid of falling with all the fabric on me; seeming to read my mind, he looks at me with a smile seconds before the doors open. I won’t let you fall! I smile at him and nod, watching the doors open, and the wedding march fill the room.
I look at the guests, all of them standing and staring at me, entering the Basilica. I look at the altar and see Luca looking beautiful and imposing, like a masterpiece on the altar that is considered the most beautiful symbol of Catholicism; he looks calm andrelaxed in his wedding suit. He looks at me and gives me a small smile, the kind of smile he only gives when we’re alone, and suddenly, the nervousness disappears. I walk towardhim calmly and slowly, confident steps, knowing that this is a decision I won’t regret.
