At the after wedding party, I bounce my shoulders to the music, glancing around subtly for him. At the end of the Mass, he'd gone along with Chas to get dressed for the reception. Since I watched them leave, I haven't been myself. Strangely, I crave his touch. It sends ripples of warmth and excitement all over me. Just like the other weddings I've been to, I was pretty much convinced this one would go by without me finding the right one. It's a wish I never blurt out loud since I'm known to be so tough and always put up a bold front in the face of my nightmares. I never let anything or anyone get through to me easily. It's always been this way since Nonna died. She had so much hope in love that moonlight nights were spent cradled on her bosom beside the fireplace as she recalled how she me
