CHAPTER 77
ALEXIA PALLIS
It is said that a woman is most nervous on her wedding day.
It doesn’t matter whether she has beef with one of her bridesmaids.
It doesn’t matter whether that cousin of the family she hated was going to be part of the congregation wishing her a happy marriage.
It doesn’t matter whether your groom and your family hate each other.
I didn’t have beef with any of my bridesmaids.
I don’t think I have met all my cousins to know which one to hate.
Mom is going to walk me down the aisle and I know she still hates Christian after months of trying to get to like each other.
But all that doesn’t matter.
What matters is this…my wedding.
My wedding?
And those two words work in my brain sending all sort of weird nerves in all parts of my body.
I’m excited.
More than that, I’m nervous.
Which should be okay, the article I read about ‘How not to have cold feet’ said it would feel like this.
To want to throw up but to want to grin so hard your cheeks hurt.
My blue eyes gaze at me from the mirror.
Gleaning, mellow, brighter.
I have never seen myself glow like this.
My bridesmaids tell me it’s the ‘pregnancy glow’.
I call it the ‘being in love and everything turning in your favor’ glow.
My eyelids are dusted with a light brown shade.
I’m almost unrecognizable.
My cheeks are painted with a red blush that accentuates the high cheekbones I didn’t think I still had due to the pregnancy fat occupying most parts of my face.
Pink shiny lipstick coats my lips and my blonde hair falls straight to my shoulders.
I almost want to cry when my eyes linger on the overflowing white wedding dress that hides my legs.
The dress that coupled with all the makeup and the happy eyes makes me look like an angel reborn in a world that was cruel to me years ago but has somehow changed tides and worked in my favor.
It’s a remarkable wedding dress.
Cut out on my tummy, enough to show that glowing baby bump and enough to show everyone who will be looking that the being of our love is about to be manifested, I look at myself in the mirror once more and utter.
“You did it.”
You did it, Alexia.
Escaped the matrix that was cruelty.
Got that Disney happy ending I thought was only the stuff for all those delusional women being fed fairy tale shit by Hollywood.
Guess fairy tales are real, huh?
“If you cry then I’ll cry then we’ll have to spend another hour or two getting your makeup done again and God knows, my brother will kill me”, Cat’s hands land on my shoulder.
“I won’t cry.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Is this real?”
I ask breathless.
“As real as ever, Lex”, Brenda joins from behind, looking at me through the mirror. “Jett tells me his boss is about to shoot the priest due to paranoia.”
“Oh God.”
“You’ve got the man in a chokehold, Lex so why don’t you get your ass up so we can all get you to the cathedral and watch you cuff the man of your dreams.”
“The fact that my brother is getting married before me boggles my mind, honestly.”
“He planned the wedding in three weeks, Cat. That’s how much of a delinquent your brother is.”
“Hey watch it, that’s my husband you are insulting.”
“But am I?”
He is more than a delinquent.
He’s insane.
And he’s the man I’m marrying today.
XxX
Five minutes after my bridesmaids walked before me, it’s now my turn.
Even with the veil over my face, the lilies I’m clutching in my hands; my hands still shake and I feel like I’m sweating buckets.
“You love him, don’t you?”
The woman holding me as we gaze at the huge cathedral doors, asks me.
I smile.
“Our love for one another is the only thing I’m sure of in the world, mama.”
She smiles. At least pretends to be happy for me because she has to.
I’m not backing down from this.
“I stood right here when I was about to marry your father. No one held my hand and in fact I dreaded my wedding day because your father was forcing me into it.”
“Mom-.”
“All I want to say is all I felt was anger on my wedding day for your father but you? I see longing in your eyes, Alessandra.
I see the same love I developed over the years for your father, in your eyes. And all I can do is wish my daughter all the happiness in the world.”
“Thank you, mom. Thank you.”
Because it means so much to have her here.
The cathedral doors open, the whooshing wind hits my veil and face as we start that torturous walk down the aisle.
‘O Sole Mio’ by Enrico Caruso floods the vast space of the cathedral.
It translates to ‘my own sunshine.’
A song handpicked by the man whose eyes are on me.
Every step.
Every intake of breath.
Every time my heart feels like it wants to leap out and run to him.
His eyes are on me.
And God is he the only one I see as thousands of eyes stare at me.
People don’t get cold feet or nervous because of the eyes.
No, they get nervous at the man standing at the end of that aisle, the man who has half your heart and you have his and by agreeing to be married, you are agreeing to take both of those halves and making it into one.
You are agreeing to let that man cherish and love you even better than you love yourself.
His eyes skitter to my tummy and I see his little smirk and smile.
‘Yeah, you did that, baby.’
‘You kidnapped me, knocked me up and now we are getting married.’
The aisle feels like a treadmill pushing me back from my destination instead of towards my destination.
But when I get to the end of this red carpet?
It’s like I’ve won the war against Napoleon himself.
It’s his eyes that praises me.
It’s his adoration that says he can’t wait for this to be over and we can hop into that honeymoon car that says ‘just got married’.
Mom hugs me, going back to take her seat in one of the pews in the front row where everyone is seated.
The man of my dreams stands in front of me stretching his hand out for me so we can stand side by side, say our vows and be married.
Maybe I should have taken his hand earlier.
Maybe I should have cried so I could ruin my makeup and I could be delayed from coming to the wedding by an hour or so.
Maybe I should have never showed up to the cathedral.
Maybe…maybe…so many maybes.
Because it all happens in a blur.
I don’t even get to blink.
Because that’s how evil lurks. It barges right in.
The sound of a bullet getting shot in mid-air shrieks like a banshee in this holy place of God.
You know what I see and hear when my fairy tale comes crashing down like a house of cards?
‘Tesoro.’
One word.
One whisper.
Then the love of my life falls into my arms as the chaos around us turns non-existent.
I can’t hold him.
He’s too heavy. He’s too heavy.
My back meets the ground with a thud. My dress might have broken my fall but the crushing weight of Christian on top of me, not only hurts me, my tummy, my accelerated breathing but everything else too.
People scream.
My voice quakes.
‘Christian? Christian, wake up.’
‘Wake up, please. Baby please. I can’t…can’t breathe…can’t…can’t…’
Can’t scream.
Can’t do anything but watch as blood trickles around his neck falling to my face in rivulets.
Can’t do anything as his blood smears me.
He was shot. He is shot. I can’t do anything but listen to his heartbeat slowly dim out of existence.
I can’t do anything as I lay on the ground feeling all his life pour out of him.
At some point, I hear someone call my name but the pain is too much.
Too much to enable me to shout for help. Too much to…
Everything turns black.
XX
It’s not the beeping of hospital machines that gives it away that I’m in a hospital.
It’s that sickening smell of blood that clutches onto my skin that tells me where I am.
I open my eyes and pain stings me all over.
At the same time a familiar head of blonde hair comes to sight as she closes the door behind her.
“Mom?” I hiss but she’s already left the room.
I grab the wires connecting me to the machines and the IV and yank them away from my skin.
I’ve gotta see Christian.
My wobbly feet make it up to the door as I open the door.
I catch sight of my mom again taking a corner down the hallway.
Gripping the walls, trying to stay hidden from the nurses who’ll ask questions as soon as they see the blood dripping where the wires were connected to my hand, I lay low following my mom as quiet I can.
I don’t think I have the energy to shout.
My mouth feels dry.
Whatever sedatives they gave me have me feeling sleepy.
I struggle to walk.
Slow and steady.
Slow but trying to be fast.
Mom disappears in another wing before she enters in one of the rooms.
Christian must be there.
From the same room, some doctor walks out talking on the phone like his life depends on it.
I don’t pay him no heed when he disappears in the opposite direction.
No, my eyes are on my mom who walks out of the room.
Then at the woman who is being held by two men from collapsing to the floor.
Why is Cat crying? Why do Maximo and Demetri look like that?
“M-mom?”
I call.
Everyone notices my presence and their faces go blank.
Cat’s too devastated to even speak. All she does is sob and I near where they are. I near the room.
My legs shake. From the sedatives? From what is happening? I don’t know.
“Alessandra, no. You…you have to be in your room. The doctor…”
“I need to see Christian.”
“Alessandra…”
“Where is Christian? I need…I need to see my husband.”
Mom tries to hold me but I don’t want to be held by her.
I want my husband.
I push her off of me then with every bit of strength, I walk into the room they just exited.
The sight that greets me draws me to a halt.
“W—where is Christian?” I ask.
“Ale-.”
“Where is Christian? Why is there…why is there someone covered by a white cover…where is my husband…”
“Alessandra…”
I move into the room, my feet telling me to get out and go back to my room.
Christian is probably waiting in my room for me. Yes, he’s in my room. He’s in my…
My hands don’t stop. I reach for the white cover concealing the dead body on top of the cold metallic stand and I pull it away.
“Christian?”
No.
I lean to his face.
No breath.
No breathing.
My hand clutches his heart, the same heart I slept on most nights listening to it beating.
No heartbeat.
No pulse.
Gone. Dead. Life snuffed out of him.
“It’s not Christian!”
“Alessandra.”
“No, my Christian has been through worse! He survived a bomb for me, he got shot twice for me…he has survived worse mom!”
“Alessandra, he is gone.”
“No, he’s not! He’s not gone because he promised… he promised to stay forever. He promised to take the kids to school every day… he promised to be here when I need him! He’s not…he’s just sleeping, he’s messing with me… he likes joking. Ask… ask Kat, she’ll tell you… he likes joking. He’s joking.”
“Honey, you have to-.”
“I need to wake him up. If you love me, help me wake him up. We are getting married; we are going to our
honeymoon-.”
“He’s dead.”
“No! No! He is not. Baby, prove her wrong. Wake up.”
“Alessandra…”
“Prove her wrong and wake up!”
“Alessandra…Maximo? Maximo, she’s bleeding!”
I feel the blood trickle between my legs as my will to live fades too.