Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Amen,” Adriano calls out, making laughter ripple around us.
“But in all seriousness,” Uncle Dario continues, “There is no greater gift than standing here today and seeing my daughter receive the love she has always deserved. Rosie has carried so much with grace, courage, and a heart that never turns cold, and Enzo, you’ve become the man who sees every part of her in a way that none of us do. You love her in a way that’s so special, it brings me peace. And that’s all a father can ever pray for. Not perfection. Not an easy road. Just a love strong enough to hold through every storm, and looking at the two of you today, I know that’s exactly what you have.”
Uncle Dario begins to move away from the microphone, but then pauses and looks me dead in the eye. “Oh, by the way, you better call us Mom and Dad from here on out. None of that awkward shit with you taking eleven years to do it.”
Smiling at him, I chuckle. “You’re never going to let it go, are you?” He shakes his head, then lifts an eyebrow at me, and I say, “Thank you for the beautiful words, Dad.”
Rosie turns her hand beneath mine and weaves our fingers while leaning in and pressing a kiss to my jaw.
Then my father climbs to his feet and walks to the small podium. When he stops behind the microphone, he takes a deep breath before looking at my bride.
“Rosie, what can I say that everyone doesn’t know about you already. You’re the heart and soul of this family, but the fact that you chose my youngest son to love so unconditionally and deeply –” I watch as emotion flashes over Dad’s face. For a rare moment, he struggles to compose himself, then he shakes his head and looks at Rosie with love. “I’m in awe of you, Rosie, and I’m incredibly honored to be able to call you my daughter.”
Christ.
There isn’t a dry eye in the room as Dad stalks toward Rosie, who’s already getting up from her chair.
I have to clear my throat a couple of times as he wraps her up in a tight hug, then I hear him whisper, “I love you like my own, sweet girl. Thank you for fighting so hard.”
She brushes her hand over his back. “Love you too, Papa.”
That does it for me, and I quickly flick the tear away as it escapes.
While Dad returns to his seat, Rosie’s dad groans, “Thank God I’m not wearing makeup.” It breaks the heavy emotion hanging in the air while he dabs beneath his eyes with a tissue.
Next up is Christiano. As Capo dei Capi, he commands the room without even trying, but when he steps behind the microphone, he glances at our father and mutters, “That’s a tough act to follow.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the hall before his gaze settles on Rosie and me.
“Enzo, I’m proud to call you my brother, and I think I speak for every person in this room when I say, thank God this day is finally here. We’ve all watched the two of you circle each other for years, and tonight, we don’t just get to witness a wedding. We get to witness something all of us hoped for, prayed for, and refused to stop believing in.”
His eyes move to Rosie, and his expression softens.
“Rosie, none of us understood the space you filled in our lives until there was only silence where your laughter used to be. I hope we never hear that silence again. I hope Enzo spends the rest of his life making sure your happiness fills every room you walk into, because you are loved by all of us, cherished by all of us, and I’m honored to call you my sister.” Then he looks at Rosie’s parents. “From my family to yours, thank you for sharing her with us. We will treasure her, protect her, and love her as our own, always.”
We all raise our glasses before taking a sip of the champagne, and with all the speeches done and over with, I let out a breath of relief as the food is carried out.
I finally have a moment where I can give Rosie all my attention, and while we only eat something here and there, I keep brushing my hand over her back, or fixing a strand of hair, or squeezing her hand, or leaning in and kissing some part of her face and neck.
Her smile grows wider and wider, and when I lean in again, she suddenly hooks her arm around the back of my neck, grabs hold of my jaw, and kisses the fuck out of me.
By the time she pulls back, I’m stuck in a daze, then she says, “I get to kiss you all I want for the rest of my life. How lucky am I?”