Both Monday and Tuesday are silent, since Luci is most likely trying to avoid me on purpose. I catch a glance at her Wednesday morning as El arrives with her wedding dress for a fitting as I was finishing up with mine. I tried to approach her but get shooed away by El, claiming I couldn’t be near her or the dress until Saturday.
“She’ll forgive me. She has to.” I’m not sure if I’m whispering to myself, the universe, or God, but someone needs to listen. The statement has to be true. She’s mine and her resentment toward me can’t stop that.
Chapter 39
Luci
3 Days Until The Wedding
Late Sunday night I snuck into Alessandro’s bedroom, our bedroom, I guess to grab some things and hide away in the room I’ve imprisoned myself in. I saw Alessandro passed out on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of whiskey next to him. I close the shades and bring a blanket to cover him, even though he doesn’t deserve it. I desperately want to love Alessandro and seeing him asleep, obviously passed out from the bottle, makes him appear uncharacteristically peaceful and small.
I bend down over his body and kiss him on the cheek. He takes a deep breath and sighs, but other than that doesn’t stir.
“I just hope one day you can love me the way I love you.” The tear that falls from my face onto his causes him to stir and I boltout of the bathroom, carrying my small bag of necessities. I rush back to the other bedroom where Enzo is waiting to unlock the door, hoping to hide from him until our wedding.
That was three days ago.
Since then I’ve been avoiding him, dragging Enzo into it as I ask him constantly if he, Marco, or Geno are around. I know Alessandro almost caught me several times when I escaped to grab some food. When he did, I would hide in a random room until it was safe to go upstairs. The one benefit to being petite is that I have quiet footsteps.
When I’m alone, I spend most of my time crying. Not because I’m sad about Alessandro and how he spoke to me, but by thinking of the email I sent. Did he get it? Do I regret it? Do I want to leave? And by extension, is that a possibility? This place is pretty impenetrable, and I know if Alessandro doesn’t want you here you won’t be and if you are, it’s possible you won’t leave alive.
Wednesday I wake up excited for the first time in the last few days because El is coming for my dress fitting. She’s become someone I consider a friend and after being alone the last few days that’s something I need. Butterflies dance in my stomach when I think of my dress that should arrive at any second.
Finally, my phone dings and I cross my fingers that it’s El and not a ‘let me open the fucking door’ text Alessandro has been sending me. My heart rate settles when I see El’s name pop up on the phone.
El:
Hey hot stuff! I just pulled up. Come down and help me with everything????
My heart rate picks back up at the thought of leaving the room unplanned, hoping I won’t cross paths with him. El reads my mind when another text comes through.
El:
Don’t worry, the boys are locked in a room with Andrea doing their fittings. We can be in the room before the boys come out. Pinky promise.
With El’s promise in mind, Enzo lets me out and I rush downstairs to help her grab whatever she needs. Since it’s a dress fitting, I would have thought she just needed to bring my dress. Considering it’s El, I should have known better. Nothing she does is simple. My jaw drops at the amount of bags and the large rolling case she’s brought with her.
“El, what is in all of these?”
“It’s your entire ensemble for your wedding, of course.” She tosses the bags she brought into my arms. “It’s the dress, and the shoes, and the accessories, and most importantly—the lingerie.”
I almost drop everything as she tosses her keys at someone and walks through the house, the clacking of her heels echoing through the hall. Normally I think that the shorter the person, the quieter their footsteps are, but not El. I think she wants everyone to know she’s entered or exited a room.
“I’ve concluded that you think lingerie is the most important part of every outfit.”
“Duh. Alessandro needs to be worried about blowing a load in his pants every time he sees you in the right pieces.” Her casual disposition when she talks about sex makes me blush.
Speaking of footsteps, Alessandro’s signature shoes and the speed in his steps make it painfully clear he’s coming in our direction. “Oh no.”
El catches onto what’s going on. “Shit. Go, go, go. I’ll deal with him.”
I make it around the corner when I hear El telling Alessandro to go away. “Nope. I have her dress and you can’t see it. Go do something stupid with Marco.”
“But—” El cuts him off before he can get two words in.
“No! No buts. Byeeeeee!” I’m always shocked by how casually she speaks to the men around her like she’s never been afraid of someone in her life.
El pops around the corner, footsteps stomping faster to get up and away from the possibility of running into someone else. “Fretta!” With the one word, we don’t stop until we’re upstairs, locked in the room, panting at how fast we got up here. Thank God Enzo was already by the door to let us in.
