Page 287 of Lorenzo

“Donna’s.”

“Of course you are.”

His grin widens. “She’s nicer.”

“That is objectively untrue.”

Edoardo laughs, and even Mario’s mouth twitches as he finally steps away from me.

I look toward the clock.

Less than ten minutes.

That is when the nerves hit me.

They have been there all morning, buried beneath getting dressed, answering questions, and enduring my brothers’ opinions about my tie, but now there is very little left to distract me from the fact that in less than ten minutes, Donatella Costa is going to walk toward me and become my wife.

Edoardo must notice something in my face because his expression grows serious.

“You good?” he asks.

I look at him. “Yes.”

It is the truth, although it feels inadequate. Good does not begin to cover it.

I have spent most of my adult life believing I understood the boundaries of my future. I had Gemma. I had my sons. I had my family, my work, my responsibilities, and enough memories to fill the years ahead without needing to imagine anything beyond them. For a long time, that felt like enough because it had to be.

Then Donatella arrived and changed every assumption I had made about the rest of my life.

Alessio gets to his feet and smooths a hand over the front of his jacket. “You’re doing that thing again.”

I glance at him. “What thing?”

“Looking like you’re about to have a very serious thought.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Diego says.

“It usually is,” Ricardo adds.

I ignore all of them and look at my sons instead.

Seeing Edoardo and Alessio here matters more than I expected. They are grown men now, but part of me still sees the boys they were when it became the three of us. I spent years trying to make sure they never felt the absence of what we lost more than they had to, and somewhere along the way, I stopped considering whether my own life might ever open up again.

Alessio catches me looking and lifts a brow. “Now you’re definitely being weird.”

“I am looking at my sons on my wedding day.”

He grins, but Edoardo only watches me for a moment before stepping away from the wall.

“We’re happy for you,” he says.

The simple statement hits me harder than I expect.

Alessio’s expression softens too. “Yeah. We are.”

I nod once because anything more feels risky.

Mario checks the time again. “We should go.”