Chapter 20: The Night Before

Gemma's POV

The night before the wedding, my father's house smelled of starch and lemon oil.

I stood in my old bedroom looking at a dress.

Ivory satin, a column, an open back, thirty covered buttons. It hung on the closet door.

I had ordered it for Renzo.

That was the part I kept coming back to.

I had stood in a fitting room and let a seamstress pin me into a gown for the wrong man.

The wrong man had been my road to the right one.

I was grateful for the dress and ashamed of it at once.

My phone lay on the bed.

Nico had sent a photo at nine, of a plate of the Villa cook's food.

*They're feeding me. They won't let me carry anything. Everyone is crying in the kitchen.*

I had written back: *You're not supposed to see me until noon.*

He had written: *I'm not seeing you. I'm looking at a plate.*

I was smiling at it when the doorbell rang.

My father answered. I heard his low voice in the hall, and then his step on the stairs.

"Mia," he said at my door. "There's a young woman. She says she knows you're not supposed to see anyone."

"Who?"

"Camilla Hayes."

I put the phone down.

She was standing in the front hall in the same coat she'd worn to the boathouse.

She wore no lipstick, and her hands were clasped in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know it's the night before."

"Come into the kitchen."

I made her tea because it gave my hands something to do. She wrapped both hands around the cup and did not drink it.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Family Stole My Wedding Day, So I Stole His Bride-to-Be from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.