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“We—”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks, he’s my husband and I love him, and if you love me and your grandson, then you will have to get on with Rocco,” I say, walking out of the room without awaiting an answer.
I kiss my brother’s goodbye before leaving the house, a restful feeling escaping me. This house has always symbolized my oppression, misery, and grief. Suddenly I feel like the slate has been wiped clean.
I expected to feel raw after finding out the truth about Anton, but the truth was, I felt relieved. For years, I had held on to a pipe dream about a man that didn’t even exist. I couldn’t give myself to Rocco because of the guilt associated with Anton. I felt that I had got Anton him killed when he was to blame the whole time. I finally felt free and no longer had to hold a part of myself back with Rocco, I could love him with no limitations now there were no secrets between us.
I hadn’t had time to register whether we were ready for a baby. I was so overwhelmed with happiness when the doctor told me in Chicago. I knew that with or without Rocco, I wanted the baby. At first, I was scared that he only wanted to stay with me because of the baby but day by day, we started building a foundation of trust and the baby brought us closer together. From seeing the first scan, to feeling the first kick, I could see the joy on Rocco’s face, which made me fall in love with him a little more each day.
Days later, we are in the stifling heat of Las Vegas at the Grand Pharoah Hotel, Tysen’s hotel. We had spent a couple of days just relaxing but today was the vow renewal, and I don’t feel nervous. I just feel a sense of elation that seems to consume every inch of me. I don’t have butterflies like the first time we married, I feel nothing but peace because we had reached that state of the relationship where we knew each other so well. Rocco isn’t just my husband, he is my best friend. Nobody in the world knew me more than he did, and vice-versa.
Despite Tysen referring to me as the newly revised ‘knocked-up ball and chain’, he gifted us the Sultan suite, the most expensive suite in the whole of the city. Lucia is my maid of honor, and we even spent a little longer getting ready as with my bump, everything is a process.
“Are you ready?” Lucia’s voice comes out from the dressing room.
“Yep,” I say, walking out in my dress. “I mean, it’s not white for obvious reasons.” I smile at my reflection.
I had picked a pale pink mermaid-style dress for the wedding. I hadn’t gone all out like the first time Rocco and I had gotten married in the church. It was easier and less formal this time around to be surrounded by our friends, those who we loved the most.
Lucia is dressed in a pale lavender, long flowing dress with a crisscross back, her hair back to her sandy blonde roots and styled into a chic bun. The large diamond solitaire on her finger gleams each time she makes a hand gesture, which she does often just to show it off. I look at both of us in the reflection, noting how far we have both come.
“You look good, nice and rosy,” Lucia says, smiling at me.
“Is that code for chubby?” I say, snorting.
“No, you’re just glowing, I take it you’re doing sex again?” she asks in her thick New Jersey accent.
“Please never say that again,” I say, sighing.
“Well, you are!” She shrugs.
“Yep, and it’s better than ever.”
“What if you poke the baby?” She frowns.
“Then he’ll have dimples,” I say, snorting.
“I mean, is that a real thing?” She seems horrified.
“Lucia, stop! I have a weak bladder,” I laugh, holding my stomach.
She gives me one last hug before I leave the room, I take a deep breath excited to see Rocco waiting for me.
When I leave the suite, Tysen is leaning on the wall smoking a cigar which he puts out quickly when I exit. He looks ruggedly handsome, dressed in a cream tux with his hair combed back into a pompadour style. Despite him being icily cold on the exterior, I was starting to suspect he had another side to him.
“If I hear one more thing about secondary smoke, I’m going to lose my shit,” he says waspishly.
“You’re walking me down the aisle?” I ask chuckling.
“Seeing as Rocco made Franco his best man, I have been asked to fulfil other duties,” he says, annoyed.
“Look at it as good practice for your own wedding, Tysen,” I say smiling.
“Never in a million years will I get married,” Tysen says, outraged.
“Never say never,” I say, winking at him as we walk down the aisle. He shakes his head at me like I am insane.
My heart flutters as I see Rocco waiting at the end of the aisle next to Franco. He is wearing a white tux, a change from his usual dark color palette of attire. He knows I am thinking this and gives me a small smirk. His gray eyes rest on mine as he takes my hand and kisses it lightly when I reach him. A profound feeling of love bursts through me as I take my place next to him, the only place I want to be for the rest of my life.
“In the name of God, I, Sophia, take you, Rocco, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part,” I say, meaning every word.
Rocco repeats his vows and soon, the rings are exchanged. The thick band of diamonds in the eternity ring complimenting my red engagement ring. When it’s time for the kiss, I don’t hesitate like I did the first time we got married. I look into his familiar gray eyes and kiss him with every inch of my being as he dips me romantically, just like in the movies. But this isn’t a fairytale, we aren’t perfect, we are both flawed and have our own pasts that have left us with scars, yet with every breath I take, I know that I am his and he is mine.
Sarah Amelle specializes in writing stories that captivate your heart and seduce your soul. Her books mainly comprise of men—the complicated kind with dangerous minds and even darker hearts, with just a dash of redemption, coupled with an even feistier female protagonist.
When she isn’t thinking up her next story, you’ll catch her traveling the world and sipping her favourite cocktail by the beach.
