The wedding
904 Words
~ Eleanora's POV ~
I cried in the bathroom for twenty minutes before I let anyone in.
Not because I planned to.
I sat on the edge of the bathtub in my dressing gown, looked at the wedding dress hanging behind the door, and suddenly I couldn't stop.
The dress was ivory silk. Beautiful. Expensive. Chosen by strangers for a wedding I had never agreed to.
That was what finally broke something open in me.
Not even the marriage itself.
The fact that someone had already chosen my dress without ever asking what I wanted.
After twenty minutes, I washed my face, stared at myself in the mirror, and said quietly:
"Okay. Enough."
Then I put the dress on.
~ * ~
My mother fixed my veil with shaking hands.
Neither of us acknowledged it.
She kept starting sentences and abandoning them halfway through.
"You look..."
"Nora, I just want you to know..."
But the words never arrived.
For a while, she focused entirely on the pins in my hair.
I wanted to be angry with her. I tried.
But she looked almost as lost as I felt.
Dad knocked at half past ten.
He stood in the doorway in his suit and looked at me for a long moment without speaking.
I looked back at him and realised something uncomfortable:
I still meant every terrible thing I had said to him two nights ago.
And I still loved him anyway.
"The cars are here," he said finally.
"I know."
He offered me his arm.
I took it.
~ * ~
The church was grand, crowded, and full of strangers.
Dark suits. Expensive perfume. Faces turning toward me as I walked down the aisle.
I kept my eyes forward.
I had decided before we arrived that I would not look frightened. I would not look down. I would not walk into this church looking defeated.
So I kept moving.
One step. Then another.
And then I saw him.
Vincenzo stood at the altar with his back to me.
Even from a distance, he was difficult to ignore - tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black like the entire church belonged to him.
When he turned at the sound of the music shifting, I got my first real look at him in daylight.
That did not help matters.
Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Grey eyes that settled on me immediately and did not move away.
His expression revealed nothing.
Not nerves. Not warmth. Not even curiosity.
Just attention.
Calm and absolute.
I reached the altar. My father placed my hand in Vincenzo's before stepping away, and suddenly it was just the two of us standing beneath the church lights while the priest began to speak.
Vincenzo's hand was warm.
For some reason, that unsettled me more than coldness would have.
The ceremony blurred past after that.
I answered when required. My voice stayed steady.
His vows sounded precise and controlled, delivered with the calm certainty of someone signing an agreement already decided long ago.
Then the priest spoke softly in Latin and gestured between us.
Vincenzo leaned closer.
I expected a formal kiss against my cheek.
Instead, his mouth brushed near my temple and he said quietly enough that only I could hear:
"You are braver than you know."
A pause.
"I see that."
Then he straightened again like nothing had happened.
I stared ahead at the altar and forgot how breathing worked for several seconds.
I did not know what to do with those words.
Part of me still doesn't.
~ * ~
The reception lasted for hours.
I smiled until my face hurt.
Vincenzo stayed beside me the entire evening - attentive when necessary, distant the rest of the time.
The drive to his estate afterward passed mostly in silence.
The villa was enormous. Beautiful in the cold, intimidating way museums are beautiful.
Not a home.
A housekeeper named Giulia showed me to my rooms on the opposite side of the house from Vincenzo's.
That told me enough about the kind of marriage this would be.
Twenty minutes later, he knocked.
He stood in the doorway with his jacket removed and his sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, looking more like a man finishing late office work than someone who had gotten married a few hours earlier.
"There are things you need to understand about this house," he said.
Straight to business.
"Go ahead."
So he explained the rules.
His study was private when he worked. His meetings were not open for discussion. Publicly, I would attend events beside him as his wife.
Everything else I needed would be provided.
Money. A driver. Full access to the estate.
"And that's it?" I asked when he finished. "That's the arrangement?"
"Yes."
I studied him for a moment.
This man had whispered something unexpectedly gentle to me at the altar.
Now he sounded like he was reviewing company policy.
"You said something to me in the church."
Something flickered briefly across his expression.
Barely there.
"I say many things."
"Not to me, you don't."
Silence stretched between us.
Then he stepped back into the hallway.
The door closed softly behind him.
A few seconds later, his footsteps disappeared into the quiet of the villa.
I turned toward the window.
You are braver than you know.
I see that.
Like he had already been watching me long before today.
I told myself it meant nothing.
I almost believed it.
- Writer
