Chương 13
Neither of them seemed pleased by the understanding.
Alessandro said, “That explains some things.”
“It excuses nothing.”
“No.”
Vittorio looked almost relieved that Alessandro had answered that way.
“She needs help.”
“Yes.”
“She’ll hate hearing that.”
“Probably.”
“She’ll say I’m blaming her.”
“Probably.”
Vittorio looked at him.
“You’re not going to be the one who tells her.”
“No.”
Another silence.
Then Vittorio held out his hand.
The engagement ring rested in his palm.
Alessandro looked at it.
The diamond flashed beneath the ballroom lights with the same cold precision it had under the vanity bulbs.
He had spent nearly a month choosing it.
He had worried that the setting was too ornate.
Bianca had cried when he proposed.
Livia had hidden behind a restaurant planter because she was supposed to photograph the moment and became nervous.
That memory arrived without warning and hurt in several directions at once.
“Take it.”
Vittorio’s voice softened.
Alessandro closed his fingers around the ring.
It felt heavier than it should have.
“I’ll put it somewhere safe.”
Vittorio nodded.
Then he walked away.
Alessandro remained near the aisle with the ring in his palm.
His mother appeared beside him again.
“I heard none of that.”
“You were six feet away.”
“I am respecting privacy.”
“You leaned forward.”
“My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
He looked at her.
She sighed.
“All right, I heard some.”
He slipped the ring into his jacket pocket.
His mother watched the movement.
“Are you going upstairs now?”
“Soon.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I need to make sure people leave without bothering Bianca.”
His mother’s expression sharpened.
“You are protecting her?”
“I am preventing a public spectacle.”
“She created one.”
“That doesn’t mean I need another.”
His mother studied him.
Then she nodded once.
“You sound like your father.”
“I thought you hated when I did that.”
“Depends on which part.”
She adjusted the sleeve of her navy dress.
“Your father was very good at cleaning up after disasters.”
“He was also good at causing them.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward Vittorio.
“Men of that generation had range.”
Alessandro laughed despite himself.
A few guests approached then.
Not close friends.
The awkward category of people who knew him well enough to feel obligated but not well enough to know what to say.
There were handshakes.
A murmured “Sorry, man.”
A woman touched his arm and told him she hoped Livia was okay.
He thanked her.
Another guest started to ask what happened and stopped after Alessandro’s face answered for him.
Then one of Bianca’s cousins approached.
She was young, perhaps twenty-five, and visibly angry.
“You humiliated her.”
Alessandro’s mother moved.
He touched her wrist without looking.
The cousin stared at him.
“You stood up there and made yourself sound noble.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You said you had doubts.”
“I did.”
“And somehow that makes everything fine?”
“No.”
“She has been planning this for a year.”
“I know.”
“She quit her apartment.”
“I know.”
“She changed jobs.”
Alessandro frowned.
“What?”
The cousin stopped.
His mother looked at him.
“What do you mean, changed jobs?”
The young woman’s anger faltered.
“She turned down Chicago.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“What Chicago?”
The cousin’s face changed.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
For the first time since stepping into the ballroom, Alessandro felt the ground shift beneath a fact he had never seen coming.
The cousin looked suddenly as if she wished she could put the words back.
Alessandro stepped closer.
“What job?”
She glanced toward Bianca’s side of the ballroom.
“It was a position with the design firm she used to freelance for.”
“When?”
“January.”
His mother said, “January?”
The cousin winced.
“She interviewed before Christmas.”
Alessandro kept his voice low.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I thought she did.”
“She didn’t.”
“She got the offer.”
His stomach tightened.
“And turned it down.”
The cousin nodded.
“She said she was staying here.”
His mother’s expression changed.
The cousin folded her arms, defensive again.
“She was good enough to run their new hospitality division.”
Alessandro looked toward the ballroom doors.
“Did she say why she turned it down?”
The cousin gave him a tired look.
“Because she was getting married.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“She said you couldn’t move.”
“I could have discussed it.”
“She said Livia couldn’t.”
That stopped him.
His mother’s lips pressed together.
The cousin continued.
“She said she wasn’t going to ask you to uproot your daughter.”
Alessandro looked at the carpet.
Something uncomfortable settled beside the anger.
Not forgiveness.
Not even sympathy exactly.
Evidence.
Bianca had given up something important and apparently believed the sacrifice was too dangerous to admit.
The cousin shook her head.
“You really didn’t know.”
“No.”
“She cried for two days.”
His mother looked at him.
Alessandro said, “Thank you for telling me.”
The cousin seemed disappointed that he did not argue.
“She did love you.”
“I know.”
“Then maybe act like it mattered.”
He nodded.
“It did.”
That took some of the fight out of her.
She left without saying goodbye.
His mother remained beside him.
“You’re going to talk to Bianca.”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“And then Livia.”
“Yes.”
She sighed.
“You finally choose difficult days to become sensible.”
“I inherited poor timing.”
“From your father.”
“Obviously.”
She looked toward him.
“Not all of it.”
He met her eyes.
Then he touched her shoulder and headed for the elevators.
Bianca’s mother was sitting on a chair outside the dressing room when he returned upstairs.
She had removed her shoes and placed them neatly beside her feet.
Her mascara had smudged beneath both eyes.
“She’s still inside.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Alessandro.
“I’m angry with you.”
“I know.”
“I’m also angry with her.”
He nodded.
“That seems fair.”
She rubbed her palms together.
“She told me what she did.”
Alessandro said nothing.
“I don’t know what to say to my own daughter.”
“You don’t have to know today.”
May you like
Bianca’s mother gave him a strained smile.
“You sound very wise after ruining a wedding.”
