Summer Of Vows

The Choice

Elena flinched. And immediately hated that she did.

“Especially not me” she echoed. Arms crossed. “Relieved we agree on something.”

Matteo finally looked at her. Eyes dark. “This isn’t about you.”

“Could’ve fooled me” Elena said.

“It’s about the house” he said. “I’m not using marriage to keep a dock.”

“Good,” Elena said. “Because I’m not using marriage to keep a kitchen.”

Nonna sighed. “You both think you’re being noble. No. You’re being stupid.”

“We’re being honest” Matteo said. “I don’t do business with people’s lives.”

“You do business with boats” Nonna snapped. “This is the same thing. A contract. With benefits.”

“No benefits” Elena said quickly. Face hot. “Separate rooms. He said it himself.”

Matteo didn’t deny it. “Separate rooms” he repeated. Like it hurt to say. “Ninety days. Then it’s over.”

“Over” Elena agreed. Too fast. “So we both say no. Problem solved.”

Nonna picked up the papers. “If you both say no, Marco gets the house in sixty days. He sells it to developers. Blue shutters gone. Bougainvillea cut down. My height marks plastered over.”

Elena closed her eyes. That kitchen. That wall. Nonna’s shaky handwriting at 1.6 meters.

“I won’t let him” Matteo said quietly.

“Then what will you do?” Nonna asked.

“Fight him with no money and no legal standing? He has lawyers. You have a boat.”

Matteo’s jaw worked. He looked at Elena. Really looked. Not scowling. Not assessing. Just… seeing her. Tired eyes. Same as his.

“I’m not asking you to want this” he said. Low enough only she could hear. “I’m asking if you’d rather lose everything or lose ninety days.”

Elena wanted to say she'd rather lose everything. Wanted to be noble. But the thought of Marco in Nonna’s kitchen made her sick to her stomach.

“I need to think” she said. Voice small.

“You have until tonight” Nonna said. “Lawyer arrives at seven.”

Matteo walked out without another word. Door closed soft. Like he was trying not to slam it.

Elena stayed at the table. Stared at the papers until the words blurred.

Chiara found her there an hour later. “So” she said carefully. “You heard.”

“Did you know?” Elena asked.

“Not the marriage part” Chiara said. Sat down. “Just that Nonna was scared. She asked me not to tell you until she had a plan.”

“A plan” Elena repeated. “Marriage isn’t a plan. It’s a trap.”

“It’s a contract” Chiara said. “Matteo hates it too”

Elena didn’t answer. Went upstairs instead. The room above the workshop felt smaller now. Like the walls knew.

At 6pm there was a knock. Not three raps. Just one.

Elena opened the door. Matteo stood there. Clean shirt. Hair wet like he’d showered. He didn’t come in.

“Lawyer arrives seven” he said.

“I know” Elena said.

“I’m not doing this to trap you” he said. Rough around the edges. “If you say no, I’ll find another way. I swear it.”

Elena believed him. That was the problem. “And if I said yes?”

“Then we do it my way” he said. “Rules. Separate rooms. No questions. No touching unless we have to. Act married in public. Nothing else.”

“No kissing” Elena said. Threw it out like a shield.

“No kissing” Matteo agreed. Didn’t blink. “Ninety days. Then we annul.”

Elena looked past him, down the stairs, at the kitchen where Nonna was humming like she wasn’t asking them to change their whole lives.

“Why did you say ‘especially not her’?” Elena asked.

Matteo went still. “Because this isn’t fair to you” he said. Honest. “You left to get away from this town. From obligations. From me, probably. I’m not going to be the reason you get stuck again.”

Elena swallowed. “You think I’d get stuck?”

“I think ninety days is a long time” he said. “And I think you run when things get too heavy.”

That hit. Because it was the truth.

“I don’t run from contracts” Elena said.

“Good!” Matteo said. “Because this one will be heavy.”

Downstairs, Nonna called “Matteo! Elena! Lawyer’s here!”

They both flinched.

Matteo stepped back. “Your choice, Elena. I’ll do whatever you decide. But I won’t lie to you. It’ll be ninety days of hell.”

“Ninety days” Elena repeated. The words tasted like tears and fear.

She followed him down. The lawyer was already at the table. He smiled like this was routine.

“Sign here” he said. Pushed the paper over.

Elena picked up the pen. Her hand didn’t shake this time. She signed because blue shutters mattered more than pride. Because Nonna’s height marks mattered more than fear.

Matteo signed after her. Name sharp. He didn’t look at her.

“Congratulations,” the lawyer said. “You’re married. Your ninety days starts now.”

No 'you may kiss the bride.'

Just silence and papers and the sound of Elena’s heartbeat in her ears.

After the lawyer left, Matteo stood. “Remember” he said “Separate rooms. No music after ten. We act married when people are watching. Nothing else.”

Elena nodded. Couldn’t speak.

He walked out. Up the stairs. Door closed.

Elena stood in the kitchen with a ring that felt like a brand and eighty-nine days left on the clock.

Nonna touched her hand. “You did good, tesoro.”

“I don’t feel good” Elena whispered.

“I know” Nonna said. “But you will.”

Upstairs, Matteo lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He could hear her moving above him. Back and forth. Back and forth.

He pressed his fist to his mouth to stop the word that wanted to come out. Not 'wife.' Something worse. Something he wasn’t allowed to feel.

Ninety days. One paper marriage. Zero choice.

The question wasn’t if they’d survive it.

The question was who would break first.