Chapter 10 - THE WARMTH OF TOMORROW
One year later.
The autumn sun was warm and brilliant, casting a golden glow across the vast gardens of Blackwood Hill. Long white tables decorated with white roses, crystal glasses, and silver cutlery lined the lawn overlooking the valley.
It was our wedding day.
I stood in front of the tall bedroom mirror in the master suite, putting the finishing touches on my attire.
My wedding dress was a masterpiece—custom-tailored ivory silk with delicate lace sleeves, fitted perfectly to celebrate every curve of my full, healthy body. My hair was styled in soft, cascading curls, and my cheeks glowed with radiant health and joy.
The door opened, and Clara walked in, wearing a dusty-rose maid-of-honor dress, holding fourteen-month-old Lily in her arms. Lily wore a tiny matching rose dress, her dark hair tied with a soft silk ribbon.
"You look breathtaking, Soph," Clara whispered, tears of happiness shimmering in her eyes.
"We made it, Clara," I said, stepping over and hugging my sister tightly. "We really made it."
"He’s waiting for you down at the altar," Clara smiled, wiping a stray tear. "And he hasn't stopped pacing for thirty minutes."
I walked down the grand winding staircase, out through the conservatory doors, and stepped onto the long white aisle laid out across the green lawn.
At the far end of the aisle, standing under a massive arch of white roses and oak leaves, stood Dante Moretti.
He looked impossibly handsome in his tailored black tuxedo. When his slate-grey eyes caught sight of me walking toward him, his breath hitched noticeably, and a look of pure, unadulterated awe swept across his face.
I walked down the aisle with my head held high, proud of who I was, proud of the full, strong body that had carried me through the storm, and proud to give my heart to the man who loved me completely.
When I reached the altar, Dante took both of my hands in his. His hands were warm, solid, and steady.
"You are my whole world, Sophia," Dante whispered softly, so only I could hear.
"And you are mine, Dante," I replied.
Under the clear blue Massachusetts sky, surrounded by our family, friends, and the people who loved us, we exchanged our vows—promising to protect, honor, and cherish each other through every sunrise and every shadow for the rest of our lives.
When the priest pronounced us husband and wife, Dante didn't wait. He pulled me tightly into his arms, dipping me back slightly as he kissed me deeply, to the wild cheers and thunderous applause of everyone present.
Later that evening, as the stars twinkled above Blackwood Hill and the music played softly across the illuminated terrace, Dante and I stood together at the edge of the stone balcony.
I rested my back against his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around my waist, his warm hands resting over mine. A few feet away, Clara, Rosa, and Matteo were sitting by the outdoor fireplace, watching Lily take her first shaky, independent baby steps across the stone pavement, her small laughter echoing through the clear night air.
I leaned my head back against Dante’s shoulder, looking up at the bright moon.
"What are you thinking about, Mrs. Moretti?" Dante murmured in my ear, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
"I was thinking about that rainy night in the supermarket," I smiled softly, turning in his arms to face him. "I was so scared, so tired, and so hungry. I thought tomorrow was just a place where bad things got postponed."
Dante looked down into my eyes, his face softened by an enduring, unbreakable love.
"And now?" he asked gently.
May you like
I reached up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the warm, steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers.
"Now," I whispered, pulling his lips down to mine, "tomorrow is the warmest place I know."
