“My masterpiece is kicking me,” I mutter, pressing a hand to where our daughter is currently doing somersaults. “From the inside.”
Valentina laughs. “She’s excited. It’s her parents’ wedding day.”
“She’s excited to destroy my bladder, apparently.”
There’s a knock on the door and my mother slips inside. She looks beautiful in her dark blue dress, her hair perfect, and her makeup flawless. She also looks like she’s been crying for hours, which she probably has.
“Emma,” she says, her voice thick. “You look—you look?—”
She starts crying again and I wince.
They’re not the happy, joyful tears that Leo’s mother has been crying all morning.
These are sad tears.
Devastated tears. The tears of a mother watching her daughter marry into the enemy family.
“Mom,” I say gently, turning away from the mirror to face her. Valentina scurries away. “It’s okay.”
“It’snotokay,” she says, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Emma, you’re marrying aSantoro. Your father isn’t here. This whole thing is?—”
“What I want,” I interrupt firmly. “This is whatIwant, Mom.Leois what I want.”
“He kidnapped you,” she whispers, like she still can’t believe it, as if the last six months haven’t happened. “He took you from your wedding. Hestoleyou.”
“I know what he did,” I say quietly. “I was there, remember?” I squeeze her hands. “But Mom, that’s not who he is anymore. That’s not who we are. We’re—we’re building something new. Something good.”
She shakes her head, tears still falling. “Your father is heartbroken. He’s—Emma, he’s barely spoken since you told him about the wedding. He just sits in his study and?—”
“I invited him,” I say sharply. Goddamn, how many times are we going to have this conversation? “I sent him an invitation. I asked him to walk me down the aisle. He said no.”
“Because you’re marrying a Santoro!” my mom rebuts, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“No, because he still can’t accept that I made my own choice!” I snap back then stop. I force a breath and press my hand to my belly where my daughter is still kicking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t want to fight. Not today.”
My mother’s face crumples. “I don’t want to fight either. I just—I miss our family being whole. And I’m scared that after today, I’m going to lose you completely.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” I say, taking her hands again and squeezing. Her hands are ice cold. “I’m still your daughter. I’m still going to call you and visit you and bring your granddaughter to see you. Dad and Leo agreed to that and Leo’s kept that, remember? That doesn’t change just because I’m married to Leo.”
“Your father won’t allow?—”
“Dad doesn’t get to make that decision,” I interrupt. I really thought after the negotiations things would have changed, but my dad is as stubborn as ever. Old prejudices die hard. “Youdo. You’re here, aren’t you? Even though Dad told you not to come.”
My mother’s chin lifts slightly, and I can see a bit of fire in her eyes. “I told him I was coming to my daughter’s wedding whether he liked it or not.” She looks down at her hands, a small smile playing at her lips. “It’s the first time I’ve defied him in thirty years of marriage.”
I match her smile. “And how did that make you feel?”
Mom looks up at me. “Pretty damn good.”
Pride surges through me. “I’m so proud of you, Mom. So proud. Thank you for being here. Thank you for choosing me.”
She pulls me into a hug, careful of my belly, and we both cry for a minute. When we pull back, Valentina is there with tissues for both of us.
“Okay,” Valentina says briskly, her eyes also a bit glassy. “No more crying. Emma’s makeup is perfect and I’m not redoing it. Everyone out. It’s time.”
My mother squeezes my hand one more time then slips out to take her seat.
Valentina adjusts my dress one final time then steps back to look at me. “You ready?”