Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 (25 page)

The months leading up to the wedding have taken over my life. Heath and my mom decided it would be a church wedding, and with the guest list, the colossal church they picked may be large enough to hold everyone. Don’t get me wrong . . . it’s beautiful but too much for me.

My mom decided it was time to sell the house in Indian Harbor, and it’s been bittersweet to say the least. I see my dad in every corner. Silent, sitting back, watching his family. His presence fills every nook and cranny of this house, and I don’t want to say goodbye.

“Figlia.” My mom cradles my face. “It’s just brick and mortar. The memories…they are here,” she taps my head, “and here.” She places one hand over my heart. “Those never leave you, but it’s time to let this go.”

“I’ve done a lot of letting go this past year.”

“You have, and I’ve never been happier. You’ve grown and forgiven yourself. Now it’s time to make memories in your house, with your kids, so one day they will look back and feel like you do.”

“Like shit?”

“Bianca, mouth. Do you really feel like that? I look around and see happiness. Feel love.”

“Do you miss him still?”

“Ogni giorno. I wake up still expecting to see him next to me. Nights are the hardest. There were very few nights when he wasn’t here to tuck you kids in and share our bed.”

“I remember. He was a good father.”

“He is. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean his memory and lessons are gone.” She holds up my arm and points to my tattoo. “I know saying goodbye to this house is hard, but it’s time.”

“Why? You don’t need the money.”

“No, I don’t, but I want another family to share the joy this home has. Right there,” she points to the kitchen, “is where I cooked the meals to nourish my family. In health and heart. There,” she points to the living room, “is where you stood and walked to your father. Your first steps were out of my arms straight to his. Up there,” she points to the hallway in between mine and Bronson’s rooms, “is where he stood many nights as you two grew up, just staring at the baby pictures on the wall and wiping the tears on his cheeks. He’d come into the room after awhile and ask me when you both grew up. You were Daddy’s little girl, even when you had your doubts. He adored you.”

“I know. And I him.”

“So even though I won’t see these spaces anymore, I’ll never forget them. You’ll have that soon with Heath.”

“I have it now.”

“That you do.”

I take a look around, committing to memory my childhood, whisper a goodbye to those years and my dad. It’s never truly the last goodbye, because I draw on his knowledge daily. He shared so much more than his love for us. He taught us valuable lessons that we use everyday in life. “Papá, you’d be proud.”

“Bianca, he is proud. He’s the type of man that long after he’s gone, he’s still watching.”

Chapter Thirty
-
Three

Bianca

Everything was smooth sailing today. Make-up flawless, hair curled, and dress survived my pulling and tugging. The ivory tulle hugs my curves and sweeps the floor as I walk. Deep breath. Everything about this day is what dreams are made of, and standing here waiting to walk down the aisle to the man who has held my heart even when I didn’t want to acknowledge it . . . one journey is ending and another one is beginning.

Getting here wasn’t an easy road. It wasn’t a path traveled lightly for the faint of heart.

Struggles.

Tears.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Anger.

All those played a part in our relationship. The most important factor of all, the one which got us here . . . was love. Callie and Bronson were right. It
is
that simple. Realizing it was like jumping without a parachute. I had to trust he would be there to catch me.

Trust. That didn’t come easily. It was earned, broken, and it took us starting at zero to get here. We allowed our mistakes, our belief in one another, to cleanse us. I’ve learned the hard way that perfection is all in perception. What is perfect to me, won’t always work for someone else, but I don’t have to live with his or her expectations. I live with my realizations.

Bronson offers me his arm. “Ready?”

“I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this day.”

“In a way you have. I’m proud of you. It wasn’t the traditional route, but you clawed your way here, and you deserve the happiness waiting for you.”

“Traditional is overrated.”

“Let’s get this show on the road. I’m sure your groom is restless.”

I bend down to slip my shoes on and gasp. Along the back, two pendants have been attached, and they each hold a picture of my father. The first is him holding me the day I was born. The love radiating from his protective hold and his weeping eyes are my undoing. My make-up be damned. I look to the left shoe and remember that day. It was the last picture I remember taking with him. Prom night. He was so uncomfortable with his little girl all dressed up, and the looks he shot Dakota had him trembling in his dress shoes. I can’t stifle the giggle or muffle the sobs.

“Bronson, did Callie do this?” It’s beautiful. A way for my dad to walk me down the aisle at my wedding without him being here.

“No,” he smiles at me. That one word has me rushing out the door, dragging Bronson so I can get to my future husband.

“Wait.” He pulls me back. He takes a tiny microphone out of his pocket and pins it on my dress. “This isn’t on yet.”

“That is a decision they are going to regret.” Because of the guest list and the size of the church it took to accommodate us, my mom and Heath thought microphones would be necessary for everyone to hear our vows. Dumb move.

“If they don’t, you haven’t done me proud.”

“Challenge accepted, big brother.” We fist bump and continue walking.

The doors open, and my eyes take in everything. The pews are full, associates from the family standing proud and watching me. It wasn’t a conventional family and one I rebelled against many times but they were formidable.

Strength.

Cohesion.

Faithfulness.

I look to the front and lock eyes on him. His smile blinds me, his love draws me to him, and his devotion seals my fate. It’s Heath. Since he bribed me on a date, it’s been him. I begin the trek toward my ending, the one I never thought would happen. It surpasses everything I hoped for, everything I thought possible. Against all odds, we’re here.

Bronson hands me over, and we take our positions in front of the priest. I don’t hear a word he says until it’s time for vows. “Heath has decided to go first in his devotion to Bianca.”

His hands steady, he cups my face and gently kisses me. “I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that our future wouldn’t come easy. I also knew you’d be worth it. Your eyes showed your pain, your demeanor was your armor. But your heart . . . it knows love like no other’s. I also knew I was the man to chase away the demons that haunted you, the man to mend you. Your strength was evident, your beauty emitted from your soul and wound around me, capturing me. I knew in that moment if given the chance, I’d love you and never stop.” He pauses to wipe the tears falling from my eyes. “Every day I promise to make you laugh. Make you feel love. I promise to have coffee ready for you in the morning and never give you reason to doubt my fidelity to you.” He smiles at me, wipes a few more tears, and kisses my forehead.

“And?” I ask. My voice echoes through the church, and I fix him with my best take-no-prisoners stare.

“What?” he tries to whisper, but it’s caught on the microphone. Didn’t I say this was a dumb move?

“You’re forgetting something.”

“I love you.”

“Awe, I love you, too, but that’s not it.”

He’s staring at me, shifting from one foot to the other and nothing is coming to mind.

“Airheads,” a shout calls out. Doc came . . . all the validation I needed to prove I’m his favorite.

“And Airheads. And chocolate.” He beams. He thinks he has it all covered.

“And no pumpkin sh-crap in the house. Ever.”

“No orange vegetables allowed.”

“Deal.”

“Now am I done?”

“Say you love me.”

“I did.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“Bianca Agosto, soon to be De Luca, I love you. I love your crazy antics and your smart mouth, and I look forward to all the years ahead.”

“God be with you,” my brother chimes in, but his isn’t caught on microphone.

“Mom, Bronson’s being mean.” That was caught on microphone.

“Bianca Rose, this is your wedding. Please act dignified,” she hisses from the front pew.

“You’ve always told me to be myself, now you want me to act?”

The entire congregation laughs as my mom is busy making apologies to those closest to her.

“I’m proud of you,” Bronson mouths. I wink at him.

“My turn,” I declare.

“Your turn, beautiful.”

“Heath, in a life where nothing is guaranteed, I will strive to be the wife you deserve. You make everything absolute. It’s because of you that I’m able to be the best version of myself, one worthy of your love. You’ve been my constant, making every moment with me count, and I vow to always love you, stand beside you, support you, and make you feel the immense love you show me. I fell in love with someone who lets me rest my head on their chest just to be calmed by their heartbeat. I fell in love with someone who loves my attitude and lets me laugh, and he laughs with me. I fell in love with someone who loves to kiss me in public, never ashamed of his feelings for me. I fell in love with someone who not only accepted but embraced my flaws, yet thinks I’m perfect. I fell in love with someone, and that someone is you.” I take a deep breath and watch my reflection of love shine through his eyes. I hear the sniffles around the room, and I can’t feel an ounce of anything but elation. Overwhelming, blinding, unbridled happiness.

The priest clears his throat, “Do you, Bianca Rose Agosto, take Heath Giovanni De Luca to be your wedded husband?”

“Does the tin-man . . . kidding. But it would have been a good one. I do.”

“Tell me later . . ." Heath winks at me.

“Do you, Heath Giovanni De Luca take Bianca Rose Agosto to be your wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

And he does.

Chapter Thirty
-
Four

Heath

Bianca De Luca. That girl takes me on a ride every single day. It’s a ride I gladly climb aboard and don’t hold on. I want to feel every turn, every loop, every beginning, and every ending. Our history is one that both nightmares and dreams are made of, and our future is unwritten. It’s endless, and many pages will be filled.

I wanted Lynsey to enjoy the wedding, so we got a D.J., but I did request she sing the first song. I pull my wife to me as the chords begin; ‘Angel Eyes’ by The Jeff Healey Band fills the reception hall, and I hold her as we sway to the music. Her head resting on my chest, her fingers gripping my side, and her heartbeat in sync with mine. We are the perfect harmony.

“Are you happy?”

“Does the tin-man have a sheet metal cock?”

“That’s what you were going to say in our vows wasn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“God, I love you.”

“That’s because I’m awesome.”

“And my wife.”

“Soon to be Molly’s mom.”

“No Molly. Wait, are you pregnant?”

“Nope, but I want a girl first.”

I roll my eyes, “Baby, you know we can’t determine that.”

“We can. We’re in control of our destiny.”

“Me. You. Us.”

“Molly. Chris.”

“Destino. But I saw your note that night. No Molly and Chris.”

“I’ll call them that when I want to piss you off.”

“You will confuse our children on a daily basis.”

“Eh, it’ll build character.”

“Having you as a mom will be all the character they need.”

“Hey, that’s mean.”

“No, it’s the truth. But I want to start working on the kids soon.”

“Is tonight soon enough?”

“Forever isn’t long enough. I love you.”

The song ends, and I lead her over to our friends and family. A tall man walks up and she giggles at him. “Glad you could make it.”

“And I brought a present.” He hands her a large package.

She rips it open, “I’d ask you to help, but this isn’t for both of us. Heath this is Dr. Adams.” I shake his hand and watch her tear into this thing.

One bag of Airheads. Two. Three. Four. A bag of mints. “Not funny, Doc.” She tosses those behind her. “My very own . . .” she holds up a frame of some sort. She flips it around, and inside is a diploma.

Bianca Rose Agosto