Tangled In Strings

Epilogue: PART TWO

Italy

"Something blue and borrowed," Maria hums, tucking a small sapphire clip into my hair. She's styled it, working her magic in less than thirty minutes. Half up, and half down, my hair hangs mid-back, grazing the bare skin above the dipped cut of my wedding dress. I've never allowed it to get this long, not wanting to deal with the hassle, but Giovanni has mentioned liking the length a few times, so I've left it alone. My morning started without him, as last night, he was forced to abide by traditions usually placed on wedding days. It didn't matter that we'd already been married for a year.

She's fumbling with the clip enough to ensure strict security when the door opens, revealing Giovanni's mother. Meeting my gaze with a demure smile, she clears her throat uncomfortably.

That describes our encounters completely.

Uncomfortable.

Both of us cordial so we can co-exist with Anna and Giovanni without fights, we try our best to stay away from one another. She hasn't warmed to me, but she seems to accept me as a permanent part of her son's life, which is progress.

Most days I can hardly figure her out.

"I have the something old with me," she announces.

She sets down a small handcrafted-wood jewelry box onto the vanity. It plays a sweet song at opening, before she rummages, searching for something particular. Pulling back the folds of crimson velvet, she produces lace, which turns out to be a delicate garter.

She rests it into my hands. "This was my mother's...Giovanni's grandmother's. She was married to my father for fifty-five years. I trust it will bring you luck, although I hardly think you need it."

Even Maria's brows rise in the reflection of the mirror at the gesture. And when Giovanni's mother turns to Maria, asking for a moment alone with me, my own brows soar as I fall into speechlessness.

"Of course. I'll go check if Rebecca's let anyone else hold Anna yet. Everyone wants to hold that angel." She cups my cheek with a gentle hand, no doubt sending me courage and willpower so that I'm able to get through whatever Giovanni's mother has to say without losing my mind. I watch her go with longing, quite unprepared for this.

His mother, dressed in a cream-colored dress, conservative around the neck and knees, takes a seat in the chair beside the vanity, scooting it closer to me. Her hat is gigantic, and adorned with white flowers.

She inhales, deeply, and stares at her freshly manicured hands in her lap.

"I've wondered how to have to have this conversation with you for months now."

I turn my legs to her. "What conversation?"

"As you know," she clears her throat, "And as I told you, I didn't want you for my son. In fact, I had so many conversations with him about how badly I wanted him to leave you. As you know, I was misusing my medications, which doesn't excuse much because in truth, the drugs didn't matter. You have been associated with the downfall of my family."

"My husband, my children are my world, and when someone is trying to destroy that world...my son is in jail, the name 'Martinelli' is tattered, only on the rise now because of Gio's talent and charm. Everything this family had strived and achieved began to crumble the moment you entered his life."

She presses her lips together. "But I blamed you for something you had no part in. My husband did what he did by his own choice. My son did, too. He betrayed his brother, countless times, and he betrayed us. And as much as I love Tony and wish things didn't go this way, I understand that he needed to be stopped."