“Sweetheart, don’t drink too much water,” Francesca said without looking at us. Her tone wasn’t cruel, but it carried no warmth either. “You won’t want to be running to the bathroom once you put on this gown.”
“Alright,” I whispered, taking one careful sip.
The drive felt too short. I didn’t want us to arrive, but the car eased to a stop in line with the others outside the building. Savina slipped out first, opening the umbrella before I stepped into the drizzle. Excitement rippled through the relatives as they hurried toward us, their voices bright with chatter.
My eyes caught Vincenzo standing near the entrance, blending with another crowd who seemed to have a wedding of their own. His eyes found mine across the distance, and that single look rattled me. He turned and disappeared inside.
“Okay, I have everything. Let’s go,” Francesca said. We all moved inside, my steps dragging heavier with each one. I scanned the lobby, searching for something or anything that might tell me Dmitri was here. But all I saw were people rushing around, each consumed by their own celebrations.
We had settled on a wedding here because of the weather. At first, they wanted a garden ceremony, but the rain drowned thatidea.
Voices buzzed everywhere, discussing the venue, who was needed where, and what still needed to be arranged. Francesca, with two other women, led me toward the dressing room on the third floor. An employee guided us through the halls until we reached the one reserved for me.
I excused myself and slipped into the bathroom. Francesca’s voice trailed after me with instructions about what must be done.
In front of the mirror, my reflection betrayed the storm inside me. I leaned forward, scooping cold water into my palms and splashing it over my face. The chill didn’t chase away the dread.
The only way to know if Dmitri was in position was by walking down the aisle. So I straightened up, took a deep breath, and left the bathroom.
“Come, we don’t have much time.” Francesca pulled me toward the chair in front of the mirror.
The two other ladies worked in rhythm around me, one sweeping over my face with brushes, the other combing through my hair. Now there was nothing left but to let them turn me into a bride.
They focused, moving around me with practiced dedication. I sat still, scheming in silence, replaying Dmitri’s promised signal in my mind.
When they seemed satisfied, I slipped behind the curtain and stepped into the gown. It was beautiful, everything a bride should wear. Too bad it was only for show, worn on the wrong day for the wrong man.
Stepping out, Savina’s face lit up first. “You look beautiful,” she said, her pride warming for a moment like the glow of a friend. She had become a friend I never thought I needed.
Francesca, balancing her phone between her shoulder and ear, circled me and tugged at the zipper. She spoke dismissively. “Ican’t talk right now. You should be here already. This is an important day for Vincenzo.” She snapped her fingers at Savina, signaling for something while she listened to the phone. But I noticed her hands still, she straightened and continued, “What do you mean she is dead?”
My stomach dropped. I turned to her, curiosity clawing deeper than I wanted to admit.
“No, that can’t be. Did you confirm? That’s absurd.” Francesca’s own panic was plain now, breaking through her polished mask. “Don’t say that. Where are you? Are you with anyone?”
A knock came, and we all turned to the door. It creaked open, and another lady in a beautiful sky-blue dress slipped inside quietly.
Francesca began pacing. “Okay, I’m coming. Don’t tell the police anything until I arrive. Did you call Uncle Leonid?” She grabbed her bag. “Alright. He was supposed to arrive yesterday, but he never did. I’m coming. Not a word, you hear me?”
She hung up and stared around as though she could barely remember what she had been doing before the call.
“Is everything okay?” I asked carefully, though the answer was already twisted in my gut.
“Yes. No. Hey, she is ready. Check if there is anything else she needs. You have ten minutes.” Francesca snapped, then swept out of the room without another word.
The lady in the blue dress clapped her hands once. “Alright. Everyone is already settled. You two, go ahead and inform the others. Savina, you’ll stay with the bride, fix her dress train as she walks inside.”
The two other ladies left. Savina moved behind me, carefully arranging the fabric while the lady lowered the veil across my face.
This was the moment.
We stepped into the hallway. My pulse raced as each step dragged me closer to the ballroom. Behind the veil, I hid fear, tears, and whispered prayers no one could hear.
At the massive door, two men swung it open, and the sight stole the air from my lungs. The room glowed in dim light, the aisle drenched in flowers. At the far end, Vincenzo stood on the ceremony platform, facing the officiant. His black tuxedo cut a perfect figure, even though I couldn’t see his face from here.
Seeing him standing tall and poised felt wrong, a weight pressing down in my chest. He wasn’t supposed to be part of this, yet here he was, obeying his father’s plans, moving exactly as expected, even when the man himself hadn’t bothered to appear.
Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t risk missing the signal. I wasn’t even supposed to reach the platform where Vincenzo was.