The priest clears his throat before saying, “Please, exchange wedding rings.”
Adriano lets go of my hand and pulls a velvet black pouch out of his pocket and shakes two gold wedding bands into his palm before holding the bigger one out to me to take.
I notice an inscription, and my lips part when I see the letters A & L engraved into the gold.
He takes my left hand and gently pushes the wedding band onto my ring finger. “Laurie, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
What love? He should’ve added insanity instead.
Just because it’s expected of me, I say the same thing while pushing the ring onto Adriano’s finger.
Then the priest announces, “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
What witnesses?
I glance over the empty pews and only see Little Ricky and the other two men standing by the open doors.
Still trying to come to terms with what’s happening, I feel like I’m stuck in a twilight-zonish-daze.
The priest gestures toward a small table beside the altar where a thick leather-bound book waits open beside a stack of papers. “Please sign the register.”
Adriano’s hand settles against my lower back, nudging me forward. Even though his touch is light, it feels like a controlled move.
As I stop in front of the table and stare down at the register, I notice how old it looks.
It’s filled with rows of signatures of people who probably got married because they loved each other, instead of being tricked into it.
My chest tightens when I spot our names already written neatly beside today’s date.
Adriano Rizzo. Laurie Barnes.
Dear God.
The priest first hands the pen to Adriano, and he signs without hesitation. Then he holds it out to me.
For a second, I just stare at him while panic crawls up my throat.
There’s nothing you can do. You already signed your life away. This is just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s.
Adriano leans closer, his voice deep and rough. “Sign, Laurie.”
I swallow hard before forcing my fingers to close around the pen. My hand shakes as I write my signature.
When I finish, Little Ricky strolls over, looking way too entertained by all of this as he signs as a witness, followed by one of Adriano’s men.
That’s it.
No family. No flowers. No music. Just an old cathedral, an even older priest, signatures, silence, and the terrifying realization that I legally belong to a man I barely know.
When I aim to head back to the room so I can change, Adriano grabs my arm to hold me back.
“Paulie, bring Laurie’s clothes and handbag from the room,” he orders while tugging me down the aisle.
The guy at the door jogs toward the hallway, and when we step out of the cathedral, the sun is so bright, I squint.
I hear tires screech, and an angry shout cuts through the air, “Rizzo! Today is the day you pay for killing my brother.”
My sight adjusts in time to see a man storming toward us, a gun in his hand, which he aims at Adriano.