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Everything was the same because I’ve always been his. Everything was the same because our souls were married for two decades.
“My Grazi.” His voice vibrated through me. “My wife.”
“I’m your wife.”
“You’re my wife.”
We spoke the words into existence.
“What now, Sasa?”
“We’re Italian,Tesoro. Now we eat.” I glanced to the dining room to see that Totto and Salvatore’s chef had put together a table fit for a royal banquet.
“Will you dance with me,husband?”
“Dance with you?”
“No pointe shoes, don’t worry.”
He laughed. I haven’t seen him so truly happy in a long,longtime.
“I will dance with you, Grazia, but first I need to make a phone call.”
“Now?”
“I need to call Giovani and let him you’re my wife.”
A little arrow of worry and sadness made its way into our bubble. My father would be angry but my brothers? Sure, they’d feel anger too, but also betrayal that I’ve excluded them from this moment. It was the price I had to pay for getting the man I love.
I doubted the fact that my feelings for Salvatore were right for many years. I feared to feel all the love I had for him because I didn’t want to put my family through this, but after what happened when I came back from Milano, there wasn’t anything that I was surer was right. For my father, I was last in line, coming right behind his mistress. I knew my brothers loved me just as I loved them, but they had wives, and problems, and a crime family to run.
But here? For Salvatore I was the only one, just like he was for me. I would never regret what we did today. I was Grazia Fiori, and I was damn proud to stand by my husband. I just hoped that my family would have a teaspoon of compassion for me and one day we’d be able to look each other in the eyes again.
“Ok, Sasa, let’s make that phone call.”
“I can manage, Grazi. You don’t have to be there.”
“Yes, I do. I have to be the one to tell him. I owe them that much.”
“You don’t owe them…”
“Salvatore, please.”
“Anything.” His lips touched my forehead. “Anything for you,Tesoro.”
Chiara and Pietro offered to walk out the priest while we retreated into Salvatore’s study. He sat in the chair behind the desk and I settled in his lap. I knew Giovani’s phone number by heart, so I just dialed, not willing to lose any more time.
“Caputo.” He answered briskly.
“Gio, it’s me.”
There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. I heard the mumbled voices in the background dialing down, so he probably walked somewhere private.
“Grazia, I swear to all that’s holy, when I put my hands on you…” he stopped to catch his breath. “Sorella, I know what happened with Father. Garon told me everything, and I understand. You had to get out of there.”
“Yes, I did. He was with Ariana, Giovani. Ariana! He took my childhood friend in his bedroom to have sex with her.”
“Trust me, Father and I had a screaming match about it. He knows he’s in the wrong.” He sighed. “You should have come to me, Grazia. When you walked out the house, you should have come straight to my place. I don’t know what devil has pushed you to go exactly the opposite way,on the other side of town, but it was a very bad move.”
