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Bronson rubs his forehead like he’s got a migraine. “What am I going to tell the Russos? I can not believe this is happening.”
Mrs. Bachman gives her husband a sheepish smile. “Really, Bronson? Not even a little bit of you can imagine me doing this?”
“Okay, you’re right. I can totally see you doing this. And Tess, now that I know what’s going on, I’m not that surprised.” Finally, he looks at me without that wicked glare in his eyes that says he’s going to kill me. “What matters now is what these two want.”
Paisley gazes at me. A beautiful smile lights her face. “We want to be together.”
Tess claps her hands with glee. “Well, why waste this beautiful wedding, let’s just change out the groom.”
“Aunt Tess!” Paisley reprimands.
“What?” Tess shrugs. “You two are a match made in mafia heaven.”
Paisley shakes her head. “First of all, that would be the rudest thing I’ve ever heard of. Promising to marry a man then dumping him at the altar and using his wedding to get hitched to my bodyguard. Not happening.”
“Just your bodyguard?” I say.
“You know what I mean,” she says.
“Absolutely not.” Bronson looks to me. “How did this day happen, anyway? Surely if your feelings were this strong you could have stopped us from the humiliation of this moment, this day, shown the Russos a bit more respect than to call it off when my daughter was standing at the altar.”
“You’re absolutely right.” I tell myself do not start rubbing the back of your neck. I reach my hand up, think better of it and shove it into my pocket instead. “I was a pathetic, spineless asshole and I didn’t face my feelings. Instead, I let your daughter,” I shoot Paisley a deep look of apology from the bottom of my soul, “go up to that altar and stand next to a man she knew she didn’t want to marry.”
Paisley offers me that sweet, soft smile and I keep going, now focused on her parents. “And I made you and your wife sit in this church, thinking your daughter’s future was settled, then disrupting it all. And of course, I’m sorry for the harm I’ve done to the family and our future security in Italy.”
Paisley puts a hand on Bronson’s arm. “Dad. I could have called it off too. I take some responsibility for this.”
“No,” I say. “You don’t, Paisley. You made it clear how you felt, moments before the wedding. The ball was in my court. It was my responsibility to take it from there. I’m sorry.”
“I’m just glad we’re here now,” she says, staring at me with eyes full of love and forgiveness.
Bronson looks pained. “And what’s the plan now. For you two? Marriage?”
I intervene. “Paisley wants to wait. Let us get to know one another more, date.”
“Like normal people.” Paisley nods.
“There’s nothing normal about any of us.” Bronson heaves a sigh.
Mrs. Bachman puts a hand on her daughter’s forearm. “Sorry, darling. It’s true. You’re not normal, honey.” She gives a shake of her head, her dark bob bouncing.
My girl’s smile shines on me like the Mediterranean sun. “I know. I’m a Bachman. And I love being a Bachman and I want to stay one. And now I get to be with one too. Someone I love.” I’m basking in her glow till her nose crinkles tastefully with distaste. “Only…”
“What is it?” I ask, with my onlookers as captivated for her answer as I am. “Do you all mind? Could we have a moment alone?”
I half expect Bronson to clock me. Instead, he takes everyone with him. “Alright, let’s get everyone out of here and give these two a minute.” He eyes his wife. “Paige, we need to have ourselves a little chat.”
“Erm, okay.” A blush rises high on her cheekbones. She shifts her weight on her high heels, clearing her throat.
“Little chat” is code for only one thing in this family.
“Thanks, Dad.” Paisley goes to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“I love you, sweetheart. I want you to be happy. Mom and I both do.”
“Of course we do, sweetheart. And that’s the ONLY reason I intervened,” Mrs. Bachman says, looking pointedly at Bronson.
He keeps his focus on Paisley. “It’s your choice who you want to be with, Katie.” Father and daughter hug, Paisley kissing his cheek again before they break their embrace. Bronson gives me a wary glance as starts to motion the last of the people in the church to leave, mumbling, “Even if the person you choose is at the top of my shit list right now.”
