Chapter 3 - The Man Who Came to the Wedding
At seven forty-five Saturday morning, Sophia decided the entire idea had been a mistake.
At seven fifty, she decided it was definitely a mistake.
At seven fifty-five, she considered telling Dominic Lily had a fever.
Then Lily ran into the room wearing a pale yellow dress and announced, “I'm ready for my new daddy.”
Sophia nearly dropped her hairbrush.
“No.”
Lily stopped.
“No what?”
“No new daddy.”
“You said Mr. Moretti was coming.”
“As a friend.”
Lily considered that distinction for half a second.
“Okay.”
Sophia knew that tone.
“Okay what?”
“Nothing.”
“Lily.”
“Nothing.”
Mr. Whiskers stared from the bed with his crooked eye.
Sophia pointed at the rabbit.
“And don't you start.”
Lily giggled.
Despite the anxiety pressing against Sophia's ribs, she smiled.
Then a knock sounded.
Sophia froze.
Lily ran for the door.
“Wait—”
Too late.
She opened it.
Dominic stood outside.
And Sophia forgot every sentence she had prepared.
He wasn't wearing black.
That alone was unsettling.
He had chosen a dark navy suit, white shirt, and understated tie. No visible ring. No overcoat that looked as if it had been tailored specifically for intimidation.
His hair was slightly less formal.
He looked—
Normal.
Almost.
Lily stared.
“You look different.”
“So do you.”
“I have a wedding dress.”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
“Isn't the bride supposed to have that?”
Lily sighed.
“Mine is yellow.”
“Then we're safe.”
Sophia stepped forward.
“You're early.”
“Five minutes.”
“You're usually surrounded by people.”
“Your rules.”
“Where is the car?”
“Outside.”
“One?”
“One.”
“No security?”
Dominic hesitated.
Sophia folded her arms.
“Dominic.”
“They are staying in Manhattan.”
That answer was technically true.
Marco had arranged something else.
Dominic had refused the follow car.
He had not refused having a man already in Pennsylvania.
Sophia did not need to know that.
Not yet.
They left the mansion.
Dominic drove.
That surprised Sophia almost as much as the navy suit.
“You drive yourself?”
“Occasionally.”
“I assumed someone did it for you.”
“Someone usually does.”
Lily climbed into the back seat.
“Can we listen to princess music?”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
“What is princess music?”
“You're about to regret asking.”
For the first forty minutes, Lily sang.
Loudly.
Badly.
With absolute commitment.
Dominic endured it with the expression of a man surviving interrogation.
Sophia tried not to laugh.
At a traffic light, Lily leaned forward.
“Do you know any songs?”
“No.”
“Everyone knows songs.”
“I know songs.”
“Sing one.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That isn't a reason.”
Dominic glanced at Sophia.
Sophia smiled sweetly.
“She has a point.”
Dominic realized he had been outnumbered.
By a maid and a four-year-old.
It was unfamiliar.
Strangely, he did not hate it.
Two hours later the city had disappeared behind them.
Pennsylvania opened into rolling fields, old farmhouses, white churches, and roads edged with trees beginning to turn.
Sophia became quieter.
Dominic noticed.
“Nervous?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“About me?”
“My family.”
“Why?”
“Because they love me.”
“That seems positive.”
“You've never been loved by people who ask questions.”
Dominic thought of Isabella.
“I have.”
Sophia looked at him.
He kept his eyes on the road.
“They'll want to know how we met,” she said.
“Your daughter recruited me.”
“No.”
“It's memorable.”
“No.”
“We work together.”
“That sounds worse.”
“Why?”
“Because you're my boss.”
“I thought I was in import and logistics.”
Sophia sighed.
“Tell them we met through friends.”
“Which friends?”
“Imaginary ones.”
“Dangerous. They might ask names.”
“You've lied to federal investigators.”
Dominic glanced at her.
Sophia's eyes widened.
“I mean—people say things.”
“Do they?”
“Forget I said that.”
A smile touched his mouth.
“Friends, then.”
Lily suddenly spoke from the back.
“I'll tell them.”
Both adults turned.
“No,” Sophia said immediately.
Lily frowned.
“But I know the truth.”
“That is exactly why you aren't telling them.”
They reached Bellwood shortly after eleven.
A hand-painted sign welcomed wedding guests to a family farm outside town.
Cars lined a gravel lane.
White ribbons decorated fence posts.
A large barn had been transformed with flowers, lanterns, and long wooden tables.
Sophia's hands tightened in her lap.
Then Lily shouted.
“GRANDMA!”
Margaret Carter sat on the porch of a white farmhouse beneath a knitted blanket.
She looked smaller than Sophia remembered.
That fact hurt immediately.
Sophia opened the car door before Dominic had fully stopped.
She crossed the yard quickly.
Margaret stood with help from a cane.
Sophia embraced her.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Margaret pulled back.
“My girl.”
Sophia smiled through sudden tears.
“You look good.”
“I look like death dressed for brunch.”
“Mom.”
Margaret smiled.
Then she looked past her daughter.
Dominic had stepped from the car.
Lily held one of his fingers as she walked beside him.
Margaret's eyes widened.
Sophia whispered, “Please behave.”
Margaret ignored her.
“That him?”
“Mom.”
“What? I'm dying, not blind.”
Dominic approached.
Sophia began introductions.
“Mom, this is Dominic Moretti. Dominic, my mother, Margaret.”
Margaret studied him.
Not rudely.
Thoroughly.
Dominic extended his hand.
“Mrs. Carter.”
Margaret took it.
“You the boyfriend?”
Sophia nearly choked.
Dominic's expression remained calm.
Lily answered first.
“Not yet.”
“Lily!”
Margaret laughed so hard she began coughing.
Sophia rushed forward.
Dominic reacted just as quickly.
He steadied Margaret's elbow.
When the cough passed, Margaret looked at the hand holding her arm.
Then at Dominic.
Something in her expression changed.
Not approval.
Not yet.
Interest.
“Well,” she said.
“You're prettier than the last one.”
Sophia turned red.
Dominic looked at her.
“The last one?”
“There wasn't a last one.”
Margaret grinned.
“Come inside. I want coffee, and I want the truth.”
The morning became a parade of introductions.
Aunt Emma cried when she saw Sophia.
Emma's fiancé, Ben, shook Dominic's hand and immediately asked what he did.
“Import and logistics,” Dominic said.
Sophia watched him carefully.
Ben nodded.
“What do you import?”
Dominic paused.
“Various things.”
Sophia coughed into her hand.
Uncle Robert slapped Dominic on the shoulder hard enough that several men in New York would have considered it a suicide attempt.
“You play cards?”
“Sometimes.”
“Good. You're on my team tonight.”
A cousin asked whether Dominic followed football.
Another wanted to know which part of Manhattan he lived in.
A third asked how long he and Sophia had been dating.
Dominic gave increasingly vague answers.
Sophia watched in disbelief.
A man who controlled conversations for a living was being dismantled by friendly relatives holding paper plates.
And somehow—
he was surviving.
More than surviving.
He helped Margaret down the steps without making a show of it.
He carried chairs when Uncle Robert asked.
He let Lily decorate his jacket with a tiny flower.
He listened when Emma described wedding problems that clearly did not interest him.
At one point Sophia found him standing beside a lemonade table while three elderly women questioned him about marriage.
He looked at Sophia with silent desperation.
She walked away laughing.
For the first time in months, she felt light.
Then she noticed Dominic's expression change.
He was no longer watching the relatives.
He was watching the road.
A black sedan had stopped beyond the last fence.
Too far from the wedding.
Too clean to belong to a farmer.
Dominic's posture changed.
Not dramatically.
But Sophia saw it.
The easy version of him disappeared.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Become someone else while telling me nothing is wrong.”
Dominic looked at her.
Before he could answer, the black sedan continued down the road.
He watched until it disappeared.
Then he took out his phone.
Sophia stepped closer.
“You promised.”
“I promised no business near your family.”
“And?”
“That was not business.”
“What was it?”
Dominic met her eyes.
“I don't know yet.”
Across the farm, Margaret watched them.
Her smile faded.
She had lived long enough to recognize fear even when a man hid it beneath an expensive suit.
Later, as guests prepared for the ceremony, Margaret caught Sophia alone.
“That man loves control,” she said.
Sophia nearly laughed.
“You met him four hours ago.”
“I met your father in nineteen minutes.”
“That doesn't qualify you as an expert.”
“No. Thirty-eight years of marriage did.”
Sophia helped adjust the blanket across her mother's knees.
“He isn't what you think.”
Margaret looked toward Dominic.
“What do you think I think?”
Sophia didn't answer.
Margaret reached for her hand.
“I'm not asking whether he's safe.”
Sophia looked at her.
“I'm asking whether you feel safe with him.”
Before Sophia could answer, someone shouted from the barn.
A moment later, Dominic appeared in the doorway.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
“Everyone should stay inside for a few minutes.”
Sophia stood.
“What happened?”
Dominic looked toward Lily.
The little girl was playing beneath a table with Mr. Whiskers.
Then he turned back to Sophia.
“Someone left something on my car.”
“What?”
Dominic didn't answer.
He walked outside.
Sophia followed despite his instruction.
On the windshield of Dominic's car sat a white envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
It showed Sophia leaving the Moretti estate three days earlier.
On the back, four words had been written.
SATURDAY WAS A BAD CHOICE.
Dominic read it once.
Then his hand closed around the photograph.
Behind him Sophia whispered:
“This is because of you.”
Dominic turned.
He wanted to deny it.
But for the first time in his life, telling the truth frightened him more.
Because a hundred yards away Lily was laughing.
Margaret was waiting to watch one daughter's wedding.
May you like
And someone had just announced that Dominic's world had followed him into theirs.
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