Page 146 of Effortless

Camilla sucked in a shaky breath. “A little bit, yeah.”

“But I think you also know that changes nothing for me and you. Whether it’s now, or ten years from now, I’m going to want the same thing for us.”

“We always find a way, don’t we?”

“We do.”

Camila waved a single hand over her face. “Don’t you dare make me cry, Tommaso.”

“Not your style, huh?”

“Nope.”

Except her eyes were welling with unshed tears, and she was damn close to letting them start falling down her cheeks.

“Marry me, Camilla. Be my wife. Give me forever.”

“You didn’t even have to pose it as a question. You already knew, Tom.”

“Indulge me, Cam.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she whispered.

His lips were on hers before she had even finished her sentence. He made sure to quickly wipe the few tears that had escaped from her eyes away because like she said … crying just wasn’t her style. Even if they were happy tears.

He could have done some grand show, or made a bigger speech out of the whole thing, but that wasn’t his style. His love for Camilla wasn’t for others to indulge their need for a happy ending, and this had been a long time coming.

Love didn’t like to wait.

Their love had taught him that.

Six months later …

“It’s a shame we couldn’t have had the wedding in Chicago.”

“Ma,” Tom said, giving his mother a side-long look to quiet her.

Tommas chuckled as he passed his wife by in the church’s private room. “Don’t start with that old whine again today, Ella. It’s the bride’s day, and you know it. You will have your own brides to throw the biggest weddings for in Chicago someday.”

Abriella clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes upward. “I was just saying. Then maybe more of our family could have been here for Tommaso.”

“And then where would that have left Camilla’s family?” his father asked.

“Well …”

“Exactly,” Tommas said when his wife couldn’t come up with a suitable answer. “This is the young woman’s last day living in New York—her last day of being able to wake up, and know her family is just a short drive away in any direction. I think bending to her one wish of having the wedding here is not such a big deal at the end of the day.”

Tom’s mother sighed, but still smiled. “No, I guess not.”

“You’re tying that wrong, Tommaso.”

He grumbled under his breath at his father’s correction. Tommas pretended like his son hadn’t said a word as he came over to fix the knot on Tom’s tie.

“It’s not wrong,” Tom said, “just crooked.”

His father glanced at him curiously as he worked the light gray silk into a perfect, straight knot. “You know how to tie one of these.”

He did.