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I positioned my wheelchair closer to the table as Mom signaled for us to sit down for dinner. Sofia sat beside me, and Danilo was beside her. I insisted she sat beside me because I didn’t want to bear Mom’s admonishments all evening. Samuel sat down on my other side, and soon, his parents and my mother took the remaining seats.
Samuel’s father rose to his feet when all the guests found their seats. As Underboss and the father of the groom, he’d give a little speech first before Samuel would open the dinner.
The attention shifted to Samuel and me as he mentioned how happy he and Ines were about our bond.
“We can’t wait to become grandparents and hopefully have a grandson who will continue the Mione legacy.”
Samuel’s lips tightened, and I noticed how Ines nudged her husband under the table and sent him a warning look. His confused expression told me he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.
To be honest, it was a pretty standard thing to say for a patriarch at his son’s wedding. I’ve heard a similar phrase at countless weddings. But with the continued rumors about my infertility, a comment like that only added fuel to the gossip fire.
At many tables, people exchanged looks or even whispered, but Samuel shoved to his feet and clanged his knife against his wineglass with a bit more force than necessary.
“Let the feast begin. I’m sure we all need a drink and good food.”
He sank back down and gave me a tight smile.
When the service crew streamed in with the appetizers—deviled quail eggs with caviar and more champagne to go with it—Sofia leaned over to me. “I’m sorry for what Dad said. The men in my family can be horribly insensitive.”
I gave her a small smile. “The men in my family as well.”
She followed my gaze toward Danilo, who regarded the tiny appetizer with disdain. “I hope the portion sizes increase.”
Mom gave him an indignant look. “We have six more courses. I didn’t raise you to be a barbarian.”
I stifled my laughter.
Samuel wasn’t as restrained. He let out a dry chuckle. “I guess you haven’t seen Danilo’s barbaric side very often then.”
“No talk about business at the table,” Ines said firmly. “This isn’t wedding talk.”
Sofia and I exchanged a look, both trying to stop ourselves from grinning. I had to admit I was sad that Sofia wouldn’t be in Minneapolis. She and I would have bonded even more over time.
I worried about making friends, especially as good and loyal as my bestie Giorgia. I searched the ballroom until my eyes settled on her beside her brother. She met my gaze and raised her eyebrows comically as she took a delicate bite of the tiny egg.
God, I’d miss her.
After dinner, the dance floor was prepared for the following festivities. My stomach tightened with nerves. This was actually the part of the wedding I was the most nervous about—maybe not the most… that was the wedding night. But I worried about how Samuel and I would master our dance. Of course, I could move to the music in my wheelchair—I had done so often with Giorgia when we’d partied to our favorite songs in our rooms—but I’d never dancedwithsomeone while in a wheelchair. Samuel and I had never practiced doing so, and I feared rolling over his feet while trying to dance with him. Mom looked ready to combust with nerves. She was probably even more worried than me about all the possible things that could go wrong.
When everything was set up, Samuel leaned toward me. “I’ll carry you toward the dance floor, and if you think you can do it, I’ll help you through the song.”
I swallowed and gave a nod. “If you hold me up, I can do a song.”
“All right,” Samuel murmured and rose to his feet. Everyone’s eyes settled on us, but I ignored them. I wanted this moment to be Samuel’s and mine. I didn’t want other people’s judgment to ruin this for me. I motioned at my heels. I doubted I could stand a single moment on them. My balance was too impaired. Samuel understood and got down on one knee in front of me. Heat shot into my cheeks when he touched my ankle and carefully slid my heels off. I couldn’t feel his touch, but I still felt a flood of tingles shoot through my body. Samuel straightened once more and picked me up as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed my other hand against his chest, not because I needed to steady myself but because it felt good to feel his steady heartbeat and strength.
When we arrived on the dance floor, Samuel carefully put me on my feet, but he held most of my weight until I found my balance. Yet even then, he still firmly held on to my waist. “Ready?” he asked in a low voice, his blue eyes locking on mine. A low murmur had picked up among the guests, but I still didn’t look. I only had eyes for Samuel, my husband. It was still difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that I was a married woman now.
“Yes.”
My heartbeat was racing, and my mouth was becoming increasingly dry. Samuel gave a sign to the band, and they played the first notes of the slow waltz. I’d danced the waltz often before but never like this, not once since my accident. Samuel began swaying lightly to the music, and I did the same. For a moment, I was sure my legs would slip away, but Samuel tightened his hold around my waist.
We swayed to the music for a long time, my hands resting on Samuel’s strong shoulders. Samuel held my waist. From theoutside, it probably looked as if he was simply touching me, but his hands were the reason I could stay upright for so long. My fingers clutched his shoulders, and his hands supported me. He carried most of my weight as we danced. I didn’t mind that we couldn’t do a waltz. This back-and-forth swaying was more than I’d dared to hope for, and it filled my heart with so much joy and gratefulness that I had trouble keeping the grin off my face despite the strain I felt in my legs.
I peered up and gave Samuel another grateful smile. His expression, as usual, was emotionless, controlled, and on the verge of brooding.
“Am I getting too heavy?” I asked with a hint of worry. I was much smaller than Samuel, and he looked and felt really strong, but I imagined it wasn’t easy to dance with so much additional weight.
He gave me a small smile. “I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.”