Page 66 of Italian Weddings

EPILOGUE

A ND SO IT WAS, that three months later, Emilia Valentino married Salvatore Santoro.

It was a quiet ceremony, at town hall, with their only witnesses being the couple scheduled to marry right after them.

They returned the favour of then witnessing their ceremony, before going to—where else?

—The Plaza for a private celebration lunch.

Their honeymoon took them all over the world, and finished in Singapore, at the home Salvatore had bought whilst in the depths of depression and pain, at a time when he could never have imagined living this kind of happy future.

Having seen the absolute hell Salvatore had fallen into, without his beloved Emilia, the Santoros quickly realized there was nothing for it but to support their son in his decision.

Of course, it wasn’t enough simply to support Salvatore: they had to build a bridge with Emilia, to hope and pray that they could eventually show their regret so that she would understand how wrong they’d been.

Suffice it to say, once the Santoros put their collective mind to something, it was almost impossible to resist. Each sibling and cousin was pushed into service, turning up unexpectedly with food, or gifts, asking for advice, or just wanting to spend time with the couple.

Invitations for the family pizza nights came thick and fast, though Salvatore approached the situation with hesitation.

He appreciated their apologies, and their obvious desire to include Emilia and get to know her, but he found it impossible to forget the pain their initial rejection had caused.

It was Emilia who ended up being the more receptive of the peace overtures.

She was as unwilling for Salvatore to lose his family as he had been in reverse.

Besides, decades of conditioning towards her family made it easier to accept their love—family really was everything.

What mattered most, in Emilia’s opinion, was their willingness to correct things.

Because of the closeness she’d once felt for her brothers and parents, Emilia found it hard to forgive them, even when they also tried to make amends.

Once she and Salvatore were married, there was no escaping the permanence of this relationship.

The Valentinos were faced with the reality of accepting Emilia’s decision, or losing her forever.

They couldn’t bear the latter, and so they began trying.

Emilia, though, was wary. At the happiest point of her life, she couldn’t bear to be reminded of the worst. She didn’t want the bubble she and Salvatore shared to be burst by proximity to her family, who wouldn’t love him like she did.

She kept them at bay for a long time, refusing to visit, to see even her parents.

It broke her, in new and different ways, even when she was, at the same time, the happiest and most complete she’d ever been.

Strangely, it was Dante Santoro who broke through her barriers, once and for all.

“I’ve been talking with Andie,” he said, one afternoon, on the terrace of the Santoro family property.

Once upon a time, Emilia might have thought of this as ‘deep in enemy territory’, but only months after Salvatore’s hospitalisation, her view had completely changed.

“Andie?” she prompted, naturally confused.

“Your sister-in-law.”

She almost dropped her soda glass. “What?” She leaned closer. “Why?”

“She says your mother has been calling. That you don’t answer.”

She glanced away, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m not ready.”

He was quiet for so long, she presumed he’d dropped it. “I know a fair bit about second chances,” he said, after a while. “About pushing people who love you away, because that’s easier than accepting how complicated and messy love can be.”

“Love?” she closed her eyes on a familiar shard of pain. “What they did wasn’t love.”

“Wasn’t it?” he asked, but with sympathy in his tones. “You don’t think they were protecting you from a future they thought was wrong? Isn’t that a parents’ natural instinct?”

She shook her head. “They closed me out. They pushed us away.”

“Yes. According to Andie, that’s something they have come to regret. They’re desperate to fix this, Emilia.”

“Did she ask you to talk to me?”

“Yes.”

Emilia sighed. She wasn’t surprised. Her sister-in-law was incredibly proactive with whatever she wanted in life.

“I don’t need to remind you what she lost. She is seeing your mother suffer, while knowing she would do and give anything for more time with her own mother.”

Emilia made a sound. “That’s a low blow.”

“I’m just the messenger.”

Emilia bit into her lower lip, returning her gaze to the view.

“You’re in Italy for the next week, right?”

She sighed softly. Dante knew she was—it was the launch of the charity she and Salvatore had created. This time, no one would remove her from the work she loved. She was embedded into the foundation, and always would be. “Yes.”

“You could go see them.”

She closed her eyes on a wave of yearning. To walk in the front door of her home and hug her parents, like she always had. To be home. But home with Salvatore at her side…it was the only way she’d ever consider going.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not without my husband.”

“So take him,” Dante pushed. “And see what happens.”

She’d already done that, though, and their reaction had broken her. “I’ll think about it,” she lied.

She’d thought the conversation was over, but evidently, he’d had the same exchange with Salvatore, because two days later, after much arm twisting, they were pulling up outside her family home.

Emilia’s insides were a jittery mess, but all it took was one touch from Salvatore, a glance at his face, and his reassuring words, “Whatever happens, we’ve got this,” as he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there.

Butterflies overtook the tension in her stomach and she nodded, finding her smile natural. “You’re all that I want.”

“Then think of this as the cherry on top. Ready?”

She wasn’t. She hated the thought that they might be rude to him, or reject him outright. There was only one way to know for sure, though.

This time, her parents, thankfully, did surprise her.

From the moment they opened the door, it was clear that their estrangement from Emilia had completely changed their thoughts about the situation.

Her mother’s apology was the first words she spoke—and she repeated it often, tearfully, throughout the afternoon.

Her father was like his usual self, talking to Salvatore as though he was any man off the street, rather than a Santoro.

Starting fresh. Giving him a chance, just as Emilia had begged them to.

“Darling,” her mother found Emilia in the garden to the side of the house, after lunch.

Emilia startled, then turned slowly. “I was just remembering how much I used to love sitting out here, on a sunny morning.”

“Always picking flowers and making them into chains,” her mother said, a tear sliding down one of her creased cheeks. She came to stand directly in front of Emilia, her lips moving as though she was trying to speak, and not able to.

Emilia waited, her heart hurting for her mother, for their past, for what both the Santoros and Valentinos had put them through.

“When you are a mother, you’ll see,” she said.

“It’s not easy. Parenting is a constant chain reaction of decisions.

We’ve tried. We’ve always tried. With Leo…

not telling him he was adopted…it came from here,” she pressed her fingers to her chest. “Because we loved him, and we just wanted him to be happy. With you…you are my daughter. You have been my best friend from as soon as you could talk. You have followed me around, my little shadow, and I have always been so proud of you.”

Emilia closed her eyes against what was coming. The disappointment her mother had felt, when she’d fallen for a Santoro.

“That afternoon, when you brought him here, all I could think was that I’d lost you.

And to the Santoros. I couldn’t see any future where you and he could be happy—I saw him only as one of them.

” She shook her head. “I wanted to protect you. To force you to choose us. I didn’t realise…

I didn’t trust…that you were capable of making the decision that was right for you.

It was the worst mistake of my life. I thought you would come to your senses, that you would miss me as much as I was missing you, and it would force you to wake up and realise you didn’t want to lose us, for him. ”

She sobbed then. “I didn’t want to lose anybody.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. I was blind that afternoon. Blinded by surprise and concern, by my fears and what I thought your life should be. The day Leo and Max told me he’d gone to them, to beg them to give him a chance, that he loved you as much as we could ever have hoped your partner to.”

Emilia nodded. “Yes.”

“I tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t take my calls. You wouldn’t see me.”

“I was dying inside. I couldn’t bear to see anyone, let alone…”

“The people who’d caused your misery,” her mother murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

Emilia blinked quickly. She didn’t want to fight with her mother. She didn’t want to fight with anyone. And strangely, it was Gianni Santoro who came to her in that moment, Salvatore’s father, with his Famiglia é tutto idiom, that he said so often.

“We were wrong about him. He might be a Santoro, but he is still one of the best men I’ve ever met. And he worships you. I could not have asked for a better husband for my beautiful daughter. The same could not be said for her mother,” she finished, bowing her head then on a sob.

“Oh, mama,” Emilia cried, shaking her head and reaching out, wrapping her crying mother into her arms and drawing her to her chest. “Stop, stop. It’s done.

It’s in the past. I hate what you all did, I hated being apart from our family, but it’s over.

Seeing you and dad with Salvatore today—it’s meant a lot to me. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t have to thank us for this. We should have?—,”

“No,” Emilia interrupted, pulling back so she could look sternly into her mother’s face.

“No more apologies, no more regrets. We’re here.

We’re family.” And then, in a split second decision, she told her mother something she hadn’t even told Salvatore yet.

Something she’d been saving for after the opening of their foundation.

“And in about eight months, you’re going to be a nonna again… ”

The launch of their foundation was monumental for many reasons, not least because for the first time in generations, every single Santoro and Valentino were in the same location, and no threats were issued, no blood was spilled.

Even Raf was there, though he had a scotch glass in hand and a brooding expression on his face.

He was still there, and that was more than they’d come to be able to rely on, lately.

Everyone was on their very best behaviour.

It helped that both families had faced the reality of what their meddling had caused.

They’d seen the damage their reaction had done to two people they adored, and would never risk causing harm to either Emilia or Salvatore again.

Leandro was particularly contrite, when he and Max found a moment to speak to Salvatore, away from anyone else.

“You don’t know me,” he said, eyes glinting as they met Salvatore’s. “My world has been shaken, in the past couple of years. I’m sure Emme’s told you about my adoption.”

Salvatore tipped his head once in silent confirmation of that.

“And then, I met Andie. Has Emme mentioned what happened with her and Harps?”

Salvatore frowned, shaking his head slightly.

Leandro looked at Max, then back to Salvatore.

“She’d come out of a bad relationship. It was dangerous.

I thought I’d lose her, and Harper.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“I guess it made me hyper-vigilant. Overnight, my sole purpose in life became protecting the people I loved, and I was too stupid to see that Emilia really didn’t need protecting from you. ”

Salvatore didn’t visibly react, even as inside something was thawing.

“The way you were, in the stairwell. Looking back, it was so obvious. You didn’t just protect her, you encouraged her to speak for herself, to be her own advocate.

You had her back, but only if she needed it.

” He shook his head once. “You understood my own sister far better than I ever did.” Leo closed his eyes then, on a wave of obvious regret.

“But you’re a Santoro, so I’ll never really like you, obviously,” he finished, with a flick of a grin.

Salvatore arched a brow as he held out his hand. Leandro put his own in it immediately and said, “I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

“Yeah,” Salvatore nodded once. “But as I said to Emilia at the time, I would have reacted in the same way, if it was my sister.”

Max cleared his throat. “This is all very touching, but she’s about to start speaking.”

Salvatore dropped Leo’s hand and turned to Max as the oldest Valentino extended his own. “Don’t hurt her,” he said, simply.

Salvatore’s eyes narrowed as he extended his hand to Max.

“I could say the same to you.” Then, he was cutting through the crowd, to the side of the stage, where his beautiful wife was standing and addressing the crowd, all sparkly eyes and enthusiasm for the first charitable initiatives their foundation would be working on.

He listened in awe, captivated by her enthusiasm, intelligence and passion. Captivated utterly and completely, by her.

He was not alone. It was as if Emilia, in speaking, was casting a spell.

The entire room was transfixed by her. When Salvatore could bring himself to tear his eyes away, and look out over the crowd, he easily picked his own family, staring back at her with proud smiles, and then, her own family, equally puffed up and beaming.

His heart clanked heavily in his chest. Never, in a million years, had he thought this was possible, but she had. She’d fought for this all along. And even without their families, she’d always said: he was enough. She’d been right. Together, they were unstoppable, and always would be.

THE END

I hope you adored Salvatore and Emme’s star-crossed lover story as much as I did. Catch your breath, because Raf’s story is next, and it is going to rock your world…this good-boy-gone-bad finally meets his match in THE BILLIONAIRE’S BABY SURPRISE .