Modern Romance July 2015 Books 5-8. Louise Fuller

      Bella knew, Sophie realised.

      Here there were secrets even amongst the very closest of friends.

      Her mother would probably have known and would have told Bella the truth long ago. The whole town would have been able to see what a small child could not.

      Rosa had gone and confronted Malvolio.

      A few days later she had died.

      ‘Why didn’t my father insist that they run?’ Sophie asked. She knew the answer—Rosa, with her stubbornness and pride, had been right to want to stay.

      Dead right.

      ‘Can you ever forgive him?’

      ‘Malvolio?’ Sophie scoffed. ‘Never.’

      ‘I mean can you ever fully forgive Luka for what Malvolio did?’ Bella asked, but hushed as Paulo walked in.

      ‘Their names don’t belong in the same breath,’ Paulo said, his eyes filling with tears when he saw that Sophie was wearing Rosa’s chain.

      ‘But they do belong in the same breath,’ Sophie corrected. ‘Just as I belong in the same breath as my mother. Just as I look like her and act like her at times. I’m not her, though.’

      ‘I know that.’

      ‘Even if she’s not here, I’ve learnt from her...’

      ‘The cars are here,’ Bella said.

      ‘Go,’ Sophie said to Bella. ‘I will see you at the church.’ She gave her friend a hug. ‘Good luck with Matteo.’

      She stood alone with her father.

      ‘You are your mother’s daughter. That is not always a compliment. I wanted to leave here, to get away. She told me to stand up to him, to fight for what was right.’ Sophie stood as her father shook his head. ‘So I did. I had our tickets booked to leave. I wanted to get out of here...’

      ‘You were right.’

      ‘I would rather have been wrong.’

      ‘Malvolio is Luka’s father,’ Sophie said. ‘At times they will belong in the same breath. I don’t want a marriage where there are things that cannot be discussed or names that can never be mentioned. I nearly lost Luka, not once but twice. I am not going to do that again. I shan’t make the same mistakes as...’

      ‘Me?’

      ‘As so many people did,’ Sophie said, more aware than ever how words could hurt so very much. ‘You did the best that you could for me. I know that.’

      ‘Not really.’

      ‘Yes, really.’ Sophie smiled at her father. ‘You got one thing very right—you chose the perfect husband for me.’

      ‘You and Luka belong to each other.’

      ‘We do.’

      * * *

      It wasn’t just the bride who was nervous on a wedding day, Luka was finding out.

      The groom stood at the altar when, for the longest time, he had thought that he never would.

      Luka had long ago accepted that he and Sophie were over and, given that he had known he would never love like that again, he had decided he would remain single.

      Until this morning.

      This morning he had chosen for their sakes to take the biggest gamble of his life and to reveal the truth.

      Her own father thought that Sophie could never forgive him and Matteo too was tense.

      And so he stood on his wedding day not even knowing if Sophie would show up.

      He didn’t care about the public reaction if the bride didn’t show.

      He cared only about them.

      ‘Whatever happens—’ Matteo started, but Luka halted him.

      ‘She’ll be here.’

      He had confidence in them, in the love they had found that long-ago afternoon.

      And he was right to.

      He turned around and there was Sophie, dressed in a simple white dress that reminded him of yesteryear. Today her black hair was worn down, as he preferred, and dotted with summer jasmine. In one hand she loosely held a bunch of wild Sicilian poppies and they were as sexy and as decadent and as heady as her.

      The delighted, stunned look on her face when she saw the packed church was something he would remember for ever.

      They loved her and understood too just how hard it had been for Paulo.

      He was home, where he belonged, and ready now for his daughter to leave properly.

      She walked towards him and Luka could see the glimmer of her mother’s cross.

      Guilt, fear, shame left him as her eyes met his.

      Sophie walked and then, as her father let go of her arm, she ran—those last few steps she ran—to the shield of his arms and the freedom they afforded her.

      To him.

      Luka kissed the bride before the service had even started.

      They needed that moment even if it made the priest cough.

      ‘You’re here,’ he said.

      ‘So are you.’

      ‘Always.’

      Paulo stood, even though he was offered a seat. Luka turned just once and his eyes met Angela’s and thanked her.

      She, he was sure, was the one who had told the rest of the townsfolk to give these people the chance they deserved and to forgive Paulo now, while they still could.

      Their vows were heartfelt.

      ‘I love you,’ Luka said. ‘I always have and I always will.’

      ‘I love you,’ came Sophie’s response. ‘I always have and I always will.’ Then she deviated from the priest’s words for she made a small addition. ‘And I shall try to remember that in all that I say and do.’

      No one understood why the groom laughed.

      Matteo was the perfect groomsman, even if cynicism was written all over his face, for just yesterday Luka had told him this wedding would never take place, that it was a sham.

      But for now he went along with it and handed over the rings.

      And tried not to glance at the bridesmaid!

      Luka slid on the ring and then he too deviated from tradition, for he went into this pocket and took out another ring and placed it next on her finger.

      It was rose gold and the diamond was emerald cut and stood high, and Bella stared at it for a moment, her eyes filling with tears.

      She remembered staring in Giovanni’s window and a diamond catching her eye.

      The hope that when Luka got out, that one day...

      There wasn’t time to dwell on it for now.

      They were man and wife.

      The church bells were ringing loudly in Bordo Del Cielo today and as they stepped out, it was to a true Sicilian celebration.

      The street was lined with tables and dressed in ribbons and flowers, the trees were lit with lights that would glow brighter as evening fell.

      Angela and an old friend were helping Paulo out of the church.

      ‘Dance with your father,’ Luka said.

      She did.

      And to hear him laughing and proud was the best medicine for both of them...but then she was back to Luka’s arms.

      She