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Tristano

This woman is nearly hyperventilating at my side. What’s the big fucking deal? Just say I do and move on so we can get the hell out of here. I have so much work to do.

I notice her fingers shaking as she holds my hand, while the old lady in front of us reads us some bullshit about loving me through thick and thin.

Yeah right.

“Do you, Cipriana, take Tristano to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Her breath shakes, and I can feel everyone around us getting nervous that she’s going to do something crazy. Hell, I’m nervous she’s going to do something crazy. Like a lit firecracker.

The brief silence between officiant and Capri drums up tension in the musky room.

Someone open a window. Dammit, there are none.

“I do,” she exhales.

I’m shocked that her words weaken my chest a bit. I mean, I know it’s a bullshit arrangement concocted by the fucking Glove, but still. That hit me.

I squeeze her hand to tell her it’s alright. No idea why I did it, but it just happened.

“Do you, Tristano, take Cipriana to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Yep,” I say, and receive a swift elbow to the gut, which makes everyone chuckle. “Yeah, I mean,I do.”

“Speak now if you’re being held against your will, handsome.” The old lady raises her eyebrows, playing to the mood of everyone.

More laughter erupts from my father and the others.

This is a fucking nightmare.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Capri turns to me, and I see the disdain in her face. Her eyes scan me so viciously, but it’s not all hate. They soften for a second – like she’s combatting heaven and hell in her mind. Good thing her lips are sent from the former.

I lean into that hate we share, and give her a passionate one-second kiss to remind her what we have under the fire.

When I pull away, her eyes take a second to reopen, lips parted.

“Woo!” My father claps like he just won a million bucks. “Welcome to the family, Rocco. Look at our kids. Look at ’em.” He laughs through a raspy cough.

“That was some kiss.” Rocco claps reluctantly.

Capri lets go of me, remembering her anger, wiping all of my horrid mafia grime off of that white dress.

Hard part’s over, I guess.

“C’mere, kid.” My father opens his arms for Capri, who reluctantly folds into a hug. “What’s the matter? I know it’s not big chandeliers and high ceilings. How about this – when things simmer down with the families, me and this big guy over here will throw you the big wedding you deserve.” He pats her back and breaks the embrace. “If I’m not around to see it, least I know it’ll be in the works, alright?”

“Okay, Mister DeMatteo.” She smiles sadly.

My father talking about his death irks me to no end. The old bastard’s too tough to die. He better be. My lips tighten. Seeing him so happy is odd. Usually he’s commanding the room or scheming. But right now? He’s more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him. He’s like an old cat in its dying years – clinging to everything close to him.

Fuck,that thought hurt.

“Congratulations, Trino.” Rocco holds out his hand, doing his best to seem genuinely happy. We can relate.

“Thanks, Rocco. Your daughter is beautiful. I’m lucky to have her.” Whether I’m being sarcastic remains to be seen. I don’t let it show in my voice though. And I’m damn sure to say it low enough so Capri can’t hear.