Death Do Us Part

VII. Giada

Gia

     I'd hoped and prayed the whole plane ride that somehow my friends excitement over my homecoming would overshadow the giant rock weighing my left hand down, but it's hard to miss, and too extravagant and showy to be mistaken for a casual piece of jewelry.
     Their shock and confusion was to be expected. The last update they had of my romantic life was me ending things for good with my ex boyfriend before I left, and I return, engaged and hesitant to answer their questions.
     "So... you've known this guy your whole life, and you never told us about him before... why exactly?" Tara asks, swirling cheap boxed wine around her glass. I'm sat at our small kitchen table with my two roommates, and this feels a lot like an interrogation. Thinking I'd get away with basic details was optimistic.
     This is nothing compared to how hard Max is going to grill me.
     "I didn't think it was worth mentioning," I shrug. "He's just a family friend I always had a huge crush on growing up. He's... a bit older than me, so I didn't think I ever had a chance, but he asked me on a date while I was home and I said yes."
     "And that date went to well that he proposed at the end of the week?" Valerie's mouth is pulled into a firm line, her dainty features making it so clear that she's having trouble processing this.
     "Yeah," I decided on a short and simple answer. Two pairs of eyes travel from my face, to the ring, and back.
     "And is this man a Jewel Heist-man?" Tara's blue eyes bulge dramatically. "Jesus Christ Gia. How heavy is that thing?"
     "Heavy," I blush, setting my hand in my lap so it's no longer a focal point. "He's an entrepreneur." That's the fake occupation I've settled on for my Domenico. Vague enough, and it has the potential to be a perfect cover.
     "So he owns his own business?" Val cocks her head to the side, chewing her lip, deeply in thought. I get the feeling neither of them are buying this, so I may have to provide them with more information to convince them.
     "Businesses," I correct. "He owns a few of his own, and invests in new and failing businesses to help them get their start or get back on their feet." That part is true actually, saving me from  telling a complete lie.
     "Guess that explains how he was able to afford a ring to rival the Cullinan Diamond." Tara's expression goes from suspicious to impressed. "It's beautiful."
     "I'm sorry," Val sets her glass down, shaking her head at Tara like her roommate is conceding and she's disappointed. "Who cares how beautiful it. Gia, this is unhinged and I can't support it. Just last week, you told us you were going on an extended hiatus from men after Elijah. Now you're telling us you're getting married in five months?"
     "You guys I know this probably sounds so crazy to you, and I understand how shocked you must be. I myself am still- processing everything." I swallow down the lump in my throat, willing myself to be more convincing. "I don't know what else to say but that we're... in love." The words taste bitter on my tongue, difficult to force out, but perhaps with more practice, it will begin to sound real.
     I can't fool myself, but maybe I can fool my friends. It feels dirty and wrong lying to the girls I tell so many of my secretes too, but there are just some things I can't be entirely honest about, and this is one of them. I can't tell them the truth about my own family, so I can't tell them about Domenico's either.
     There's no way they wouldn't lose their minds if I told them my marriage is arranged, and that when my fiancé forced his ring on my finger earlier today, that was only the fourth time I'd ever met him. They have to believe the lie, because the alternative is too messy and upsetting to face. I'd rather them just believe I'm happy, and that this is something I chose for myself.
     "Crazy is right. You've lived here in LA for two years now, and as far as you've told us, you haven't had contact with this guy in all that time, and in one week, the two of you are in love?"
     "Val," Tara pats the back of her hand to calm her. "Valerie, let's take a step outside of the circle of judgement and remember that we are Gia's friends. It's not our job to make her decisions for her, but to listen and to offer our advice. We have to-"
     "You want my advice?" Valerie cuts in, sending back the rest of the liquid in her glass. "Don't go through with it. Give it some time and see if it's the real deal before you accept a ring from the man. A crush does not equal holy matrimony, and I'm not saying this to be cynical Gia. I'm saying this because I'd hate for you to realize that I'm right when it's already too late, and you've given your beautiful life to some guy you hardly know."
     The tears that prickle the corners of her eyes is unexpected, and sends a dagger straight through my heart. I predicted there would be questions, concerns, and even some resistance from my friends, but I didn't think my engagement would bring any of them to tears.
     Valerie is the most emotional and passionate of my closets friends, so I suppose if any of them were to have this reaction, it makes sense that it would her. Raised by a single divorced mother, her aunt, and her grandmother, Valerie is a strong advocate for women's rights, a feminist through and through.
     "Val please don't cry. If you cry, I'll cry."
     "And then I'll cry right along with you both," Tara nods, rubbing her shoulder in gentle circles. "How about none of us cry?"
     "I can't not cry. I'm upset," Val sniffles. "Gia, I told you that you had unprocessed trauma from your on and off relationship with Elijah. If you had taken the number of the therapist I gave you-"
     "I promise I don't need therapy. I'm fine," I assure her. "This isn't a rebound, or a mental breakdown. I'm just... I've always wanted to be married. It's my dream." The lie weighs heavy in my chest.
     Valerie rubs her nose with the back of her hand and scoffs. "Funny you've never mentioned that before. I think there's another person who might be even more against this than I am, so another word of advice...you better find the most delicate way to tell Max this news?"
     No sooner has she said this, than the door to our apartment swings open. Max stands in the doorway with liter of coke, and a bottle of Jack Daniel's in her hands. Her boyfriend Tate stands behind her in the hallway carrying two plastic bags of Mediterranean takeout.
     "Tell Max what news?" She saunters in, her leather boots squeaking against the wood floors. Her raven colored hair is tied up into a high ponytail, bright red lipstick making her look particularly fierce and scary today.
     "Gia's engaged," Valerie answers lethargically, moving to kitchen counter to fill her glass up with more Franzia.
     "Valerie!" Tara scolds her for divulging a secret that wasn't hers to tell. So much for telling her in a delicate way. I guess that advice was only reserved for me.
     "What?" Max laughs, shaking her head. "Shut up. No she's not." Max looks to me, grin still plastered to her face like she's waiting for me to tell her that her chain is being yanked.
     "Oh yes she is," Valerie grimaces. "She's got the meteorite on her hand to prove it." Maxine's eyes burn a trail to my lap, where said meteorite rests.
     "Giada, what is that?" She points her index finger to the sparkling gem.
     "A ring."
     "Right... may I ask what the hell it's doing on your finger?"
     "I'm keeping it warm for a friend."
     "Clever," she narrows her gaze, moving closer to get a better look. "Gia, this better be your idea of a really elaborate prank, but I'm telling you now, this is not funny." From his spot behind the kitchen counter, Tate attempts to peer over at the ring.
     "It's real," Val confirms, lifting her glass of wine into the air. "Cheers everyone." She sinks the glass like it's a shot, while Tara looks on with concern, mumbling to her about slowing down on the wine.
     "No," Max says, shaking her head. She makes a little X symbol with her hands and begins pacing. "Absolutely not. No no no no no no no. You left us a single woman Giada dear. How can you be engaged my love? This doesn't make any sense. Please tell me how you're engaged, or better yet, when exactly you lost your goddamn mind?"
     "Maxine," Tara uses her best attempt at a stern tone. "Valerie already gave her the spiel, and it's already done. Let's not-"
     "Tara," Maxine waves her off. "We don't need a mediator right now. We need an intervention, or an exorcist."
     "And here I thought you guys would be dramatic about this. Silly me," my eyes roll around in my head.
     "Gia, listen to me," Maxine kneels before me, taking my face between her hands. "You cannot marry him, okay? I know you think he's some hotshot that's going to make it, but let's be real, his band sucks. You'd have to support him, and then I'd have to kill him for ruining your life. I love you, but you have to let go of this codependent relationship once and for all. I know in the beginning we all liked him-"
     Tate clears his throat, cutting her off. "Actually I'd like to go on record and say that I've always been team fuck Elijah. You guys liked him." Tate leans over the counter, already munching on an open container of food. "Let's just get that out of the way," he says, shoveling rice into his mouth.
     "Tate, shut up and your lamb kabob." Maxine still has my face in a vice grip. "I don't know how he convinced you to say yes, but I will-not-let-you-marry-Elijah." She shakes my head between each word, scrambling my brain.
     "I'm not marrying Elijah," I scoff, pulling my face from her hands. "Jesus Christ, get a grip."
     "Who then?"
     "Look, it's a long story okay. I'm really tired, and really hungry. Let's just sit down and eat, and I'll tell you everything." Max narrows her eyes to slits, slowly rising back to her full height.
"Fine, but I want every last detail. I also want a name and an address so I know exactly who to track down if this shit goes south."
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